Here is my story. Feel free to share it, but if you could leave my name out, I'd really appreciate it :) Here goes:
It all started when I was about 4. My preschool bus driver molested me and a few other little girls I rode the bus with. I still remember what he looks like, and I'm now 33. From the ages of 7-11, I was molested by my father. I lived with my mom (my mom and dad divorced when I was little), and my mom was never around much, so I was with my dad a lot. He'd molest me while I was with him on weekends. While I lived with my mom, she had a boyfriend we moved in with. He, too, molested me around the age of 10. He'd sneak in my room at night while I was asleep. When my mom found out, we moved out of the house, and I transferred schools.
By the time I was 19, I was very promiscuous, and I was into drugs and alcohol. I went to a party one night with my step sister, and I was raped outside the house on the back lawn. I kept saying no, but he didn't stop. I felt I deserved it because I had already had sex with another guy at that same party. That party ended, and we went on to another one, where again, someone forced himself on me. I told him to stop, but he didn't listen either. Of course, I drank and continued to do drugs. A couple of months later, I was at another party, where a man forced me into the bathroom and raped me from behind. I was crying and said stop, but he didn't care. He must have told his friend (whom I thought was my friend also) because that "friend" offered me a ride home because I was too drunk to drive. He stopped the car because I needed some fresh air. While outside of the car, he forced me on to the hood of the car, where he raped me. I screamed, but no one heard.
Any relationship I ever had after that, I was always the one who initiated the intimacy. I figured, "take control before he controls you". I used sex as a weapon all the time because I figured that was one thing I could control. I sure as hell couldn't control anything else going on in my life.
I would struggle everyday with my self esteem and self worth. I don't know if it was by the grace of God or what, but one day I just stopped drinking to excess, and I stopped doing drugs.
When I was 25, I married a man who was fourteen years older than me. He was abusive both mentally and physically, but I did get a son out of it :) My son was born in December of 2005, and I divorced my husband in 2010 after he shoved me down in front of my son and broke my wrist.
For years, my thoughts were "Why am I even here? My only purpose in life is to be a man's sex slave or punching bag, I have nothing to live for, no one cares about me, I am damaged goods and no one will want me around, so I may as well kill myself" However, I now know why I'm still around. I was blessed with a beautiful son, I have great friends who are like sisters to me, and God must have other plans for me. The pain of what happened to me will always be there, and I'll never forget it, but my son's smile and the relationship I have with my best friends tell me why I never carried out that suicide. There is hope after sexual abuse/assault, and there is life again. I'm so glad I made the choice to keep fighting against this. If I hadn't, I wouldn't know the good things I have in my life too. I am a survivor.
-Anonymous
"I'm so proud of you for moving on, and seeking healing from the past. Like you said, you have a son to think about now, and I think God DOES have more planned for your life. I think one of those plans is you sharing your story like you just did, not only to help in your own healing, but when we post it, to help someone else too :)"
-Kylie (Founder)
NOTE: If you feel the need to share your story, you can send us a private message on our Facebook. We will not post it without your permission. Sharing your story is the first step to healing, and should you choose to let us post your story, you could be helping someone else in your situation realize that they are not alone. You might even save someone's life.
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