My Story: Breaking my Silence
I was afraid to come forward and say what happened to me because I was so young and I didn’t think anyone would believe me.
How I grew up
I was born in a small town in Northern California. I am the youngest of my siblings, with an older sister and two older brothers. My dad never had a job, and my mom was always working to support our family which meant that she wasn’t home much either. I felt like I was just always at the mercy of my siblings who would often leave me to watch him while they did their own thing. In school, I was bullied for being different and didn’t have any friends to confide in when things got worse. It is no surprise that I always felt out of place.
What my life was like
I went through a really tough time after the death of my mom. I was just 8 years old and I felt like I had to take care of my dad and siblings all by myself because nobody else would help. Words could not describe how lost and alone I felt back then and for a long time. The household chores were such a burden on me that I began neglecting them. The stress at home made me so tired that even going to school every day really didn’t help much, so I stopped going to school altogether. What started as a few days at home quickly turned into months and then years until people stopped looking for me. At 12 I tried to rebuild my life. Start anew, but.
Why I wanted to break my silence and tell my story
I didn’t know I was born to an abusive father and it never occurred to me that I could ever leave. The only way out was death. Sometimes, I dreamt of killing him and waking up with people surrounding my grand bed, curtains grand and white and open, and the sweet scent of coffee brewing in the kitchen. It all felt like heaven; but I would wake up hungover from dreams about the horrifying reality to find myself, broken inside and out.
I was sexually abused by my father for many, many years. It has taken me decades to get up the courage to tell anyone about what happened. I still find it difficult to talk about, but I knew I needed to share my story in order to reach out to other children in my situation and let them know that they are not alone. As a kid, I never realised what was happening to me. With so much going on I thought this is normal. It was only after 6 years of abuse I got to know I was a survivor of domestic abuse and sexual assault.
When I was 10-years-old I was exhausted with the work at home and started falling ill regularly. It was then that a doctor diagnosed me and a nurse made me aware of what had happened. I was still too young to understand. I was sent to a foster home at 11 and when I turned 12 I decided to re-start my life from scratch.
It was until I turned 22 that I shared the horrors of my past. It was more than just a story to me, it was life-changing and something that had to be told.
The benefits of telling my story and the challenges that come with it
It has been a long journey for me to get comfortable with telling my story. There are many benefits that come with it, but there are also challenges that I have had to face. The hardest part is trying to remain true to myself and the things that mean the most to me while protecting other people who are still suffering in silence.
For me, telling my story was liberating. I felt like the weight of it all lifted off my chest, and I could breathe a little bit more. But I also realized this is something I will have to deal with for the rest of my life. This is not a burden that will disappear on its own.
I was raped by someone I knew. I was raped by my father. My story is not an easy one to tell, and it took years before I could be honest with myself about what happened to me. But the benefits of telling my story and the challenges that come with it made all of the pain and anguish worth it.
I wanted to break my silence and tell my story because I want people to understand that even when someone is being abused they can still have a happy life. No matter how hard the abuse was, they can still have a future for themselves.
The author wanted to remain anonymous.
