So yesterday was about sharing your status as #metoo if you were a victim of sexual abuse/assault. Now today is a new day...I pray those stories didn't fall on deaf ears. I have a #metoo story, unfortunately. I was sexually abused by a family member from 8-12. He told me no one would believe me and that I would be the one that would look bad if I told, so I remained silent, until one day I decided I couldn't go on anymore, I wanted to die, so I attempted suicide. That was when my silent cries were finally heard.
And he did exactly what he said he would do, blamed me. I was no longer allowed to visit my dad's house because my abuser also lived there. I was shunned from that side of my family until I was about 18. They made excuses like I must have misunderstood what was happening, but it was so real...every touch was real. It stayed brushed under the rug and not talked about. In my twenties, I was polite to him, I kept up a face for needed appearances, as he was seen as a wonderful man of God, so he "couldn't look bad"
I only spoke to him if it was necessary, but I could never hug or embrace him. I stayed my distance ....and then one day I got the call that he passed away and it was a lifting feeling like I didn't have to smell that Old Spice cologne anymore or feel that bushy mustache he had ever again. I was a step closer to freedom.
Fast forward to today, it made it hard for relationships, as I had zero self-esteem, which is probably why I married a mentally abusive narcissistic man and stayed with him for almost 17 years. I had no voice, but those days are now my past and my future is bright. I slowly but surely started to find my voice.....and it is beautiful.
And he did exactly what he said he would do, blamed me. I was no longer allowed to visit my dad's house because my abuser also lived there. I was shunned from that side of my family until I was about 18. They made excuses like I must have misunderstood what was happening, but it was so real...every touch was real. It stayed brushed under the rug and not talked about. In my twenties, I was polite to him, I kept up a face for needed appearances, as he was seen as a wonderful man of God, so he "couldn't look bad"
I only spoke to him if it was necessary, but I could never hug or embrace him. I stayed my distance ....and then one day I got the call that he passed away and it was a lifting feeling like I didn't have to smell that Old Spice cologne anymore or feel that bushy mustache he had ever again. I was a step closer to freedom.
Fast forward to today, it made it hard for relationships, as I had zero self-esteem, which is probably why I married a mentally abusive narcissistic man and stayed with him for almost 17 years. I had no voice, but those days are now my past and my future is bright. I slowly but surely started to find my voice.....and it is beautiful.
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