I am sharing my story for every girl who lives in silence, and for every person to understand that all life has value and is worthy of protection.
I was conceived in father/daughter rape-incest. My mother, Becca, was molested by her father throughout her childhood and was 15 when I was born. She was offered an abortion by a doctor who had asked her if she had been a "bad girl," to which she responded that she had not, because she really had no understanding of what her father had been doing to her.
This doctor completely failed to help her break free from the molestation. In fact, Child Protective Services also failed to protect my mom, even though they were called by the school authorities, and while at school my mom told them what was happening. Nevertheless, they ultimately sent her home to be abused for several more years.
Continue reading below...
Despite the pressure to abort, once my mom knew she was pregnant, she understood that a life was growing inside of her which she could not kill, and so, she refused the abortion and chose to bring me to birth.
When I was born, she said she loved me like a baby doll, but did not know how to care for me. As a result, her parents, Ruben and Rosa, raised me as their own until I was around 4 years old. At that time, Becca told me that she was my mom. Since I didn't believe her, I asked Ruben and Rosa if this was true, and they confirmed for me that it was indeed true—they said that what Becca said was correct and that she really was my mom. I remember feeling confused, and to help myself deal with the confusion, I would call Rosa mom or mamma, and Becca, I would call Becky or mother. I remember feeling weird in public because Becca was my sister to the public. Overall, I still saw Becca as my sister and friend, even though I knew she was my mom.
My earliest memory of abuse is as a baby. My father, Ruben, started to physically and sexually abuse me from around one year of age until I was 10 years old. In one instance, my grandmother Rosa even caught him and threatened to divorce him if he ever did it again, but I was too scared to tell her what was happening. I knew what he was doing was bad, though I didn't know the name for it. I knew that he was bothering me and I didn't like it. He was a big man (350+ lbs) and he was violent, so I was terrified of him. I felt so dirty, defiled and ashamed. There are so many memories of the sexual abuse and a great deal of pain in recounting any of them.
My young mom did her best to protect me. One of my memories of her protecting me was around the age eight or nine. My father was upset with me about not doing a chore right, so my mom (Becca) told me to hide under the sink and be real quiet. I did, but felt guilty because I knew what he would do to her. Sure enough, he gave her my beating. I could hear it and see from a small hole. Other times, she would ask me if he was "bothering" me. I know I would tell her both no and yes. She would ask me if I would want to go or stay if she ever left, and I would tell her that I definitely wanted her to go! Finally, on November 16, 1988, she secretly took me out of school with the help of our oldest sister, Rachel. My mom and I ran away with family friends to Plainview, TX, and it was about seven years before I saw my father or my grandmother again.
Within a couple of months after moving, my mom told me the truth—that my father had sexually abused her as well, and that I was a result of that abuse. It didn't shock me because I had a feeling he had been doing the same things to her, but I definitely felt confused, gross, ashamed, and worthless, and wondered how my mother could really love me.
Plainview was supposed to be a new start, but unfortunately, we ended up in an abusive cycle again. My mom met my step-father at church, and he was a charmer. He swept my mom off her feet. I don't remember exactly how I felt about him, but I do know that I wasn't happy that he was taking my mom away. Shortly after my 11th birthday, he talked my mom into letting me spend the night with him and his girls, and she took his youngest son. That night, my future step-father sexually abused me. I tried to tell my mom, but the church we were going to gave her bad advice, and they blamed me. After that, I felt alone and trapped as the abuse continued over the next five years.
At age 13, I became pregnant by my step-father, though hadn't realized at the time that I was actually pregnant because I didn't understand what was going on with my body, and now that I've experienced four miscarriages in my life, I realize that I was pregnant by him, ending sadly in miscarrying the baby. He had told me that if I ever got pregnant, he would force me to have an abortion.
Until after my sixteenth birthday, I was trapped in a very destructive relationship with my step-father. He was completely warped and told me strange things such as that he wanted to marry me and wanted me to raise my younger sisters and brother. I prayed for a way out! I thought that I would suffocate from the inside and out. My way out was close, though I didn't know that at the time.
My family started going to a new church. This church would be the path to freedom that God used to end the abuse. One day, in June of 1994, my mom walked in on my step-father raping me. The feeling of doom was so thick, I was smothered by it. I was sure that my mom was going to send me away, but the next day, she went to our pastor and told him what happened. This time, the pastor called the police. Finally, my cage door was opened!
No comments:
Post a Comment