I was only 5...only 5 years had I been living my life in the world. Only knowing how to play, laugh, spell my name, counting, and my ABCs. I was like any other 5 year olds until the day that I was robbed from my childhood and lost my innocence. My Mom met a guy who lived next door and they later starting seeing eachother. I like him at FIRST, I looked up to him as the father I never had. But, then things changed for the worse and I resented him...I HATED him. I remember it so perfectly...perhaps because it was one of the scariest days in my life. My Mom, my little brother, him, and I were all watching t.v in my Mom's room on her bed. Later, my Mom went off to do the dishes and my little brother went off to play. I was about to get up, but was directed other wise as he lifted up my night gown. I remember my heart pounding and not knowing what he was doing. I knew it wasn't right because of the way he so secretly and carefully went about it. He pulled down my under wear and inserted his finger into my vagina. I remember looking out into the darkness with the light off and the door shut..which it makes no sense to me how it got that way. He proceeded to licking my chest, backside and vagina. Afterwards he told me not to tell because my Mom wouldn't understand and it was our little secret. He continued to molest and sexually abuse me almost everynight and lots of times during the day. I remember when I was about 6 I went to my friends house to spend the night. Our Mom's were best friends and my brothers went along also since my friend also had brothers their age. I fell asleep to her dad watching t.v and awoke to her dad molesting me. I pretended to be asleep..that was my way of dealing with it..I guess it made me feel less ashamed and not so dirty then if I looked aware of it. I remember thinking and crying inside wanting to know what I did so wrong to deserve all this. I told my Mom when I went home and she told me it was most likley a dream. I walked away feeling hurt and knew that it was not a dream but reality...perhaps this is one of the reasons I never told her about what her boyfriend was doing. Back home I was continually abused every night. If he was home I would lose sleep by staying awake praying to God asking for him not to come tonight...but I always knew he would. I Would here the door squek and feel him pulling down the covers. I never once had my eyes open when he came into my room to do his sick business. I knew he always knew I wasn't asleep, but I refused and just couldn't have my eyes open and to acually see and be fully aware of what was happening. He would kiss me and practice oral sex on me and I would leave and go off into my own world while my body stayed and my heart cried. I would lay there after he had gone and would cry my self to sleep. I started to wear shorts and a shirt to bed so it wouldn't be so conveniant for him to touch me and so that he might leave me alone because he would be afraid that someone would catch him and it would be harder to cover me back up if I had shorts to pull up instead of a night gown to be pulled down...it never worked, he would still hurt me. I hated him for hurting me so badly and making me feel so guilty. He put me through such pain, physically, emotionally, and mentally. I remember sitting on the couch watching t.v with my brothers and he would come and sit next to me. He would lay a blanket over our laps and make his way down my shorts and finger me. Sometimes it would hurt so bad that I would start to get up so of course he would take his finger away so no one could see. I couldn't believe that he always did that...he was abusing me while my brothers and lots of times my Mom were right there. I also remember him standing in the hall way standing in a position so only I could see him from where I was sitting and no one else could, he was always completely naked and would be jerking off wanting me to watch. It totally disgusted me and I wanted so badly to disappear. I will never forget this one day...I was about in 3rd grade and I had stayed home from school because I was sick. My Mom said I should go to school for the rest of the day since I was feeling better. She asked her boyfriend if he could drive me and I freaked. All these thoughts running through my mind of him raping me. I figured that it would be the perfect chance for him to rape me since it would only be me and him in his car somewhere on the way. He could never get that opportunity at home without getting caught. I was so scared and prayed the whole time I was with him...luckly he went straight there and dropped me off. Along the way I always thought about telling, but stopped myself figuring that my family would be mad at me for not telling at the start and that they wouldn't believe me. Apart of me also blamed myself for being pretty. He would always tell me how beautiful I was and how he was going to marry me when I got old enough. I figured that if I was ugly and not pretty it would have never happened. When I was 12 he moved out of state and I haven't seen him since. I am now 15 and have this deep, dark, heavy secret buried within. I have only told my story over the internet...which in a way has took some of the weight off my shoulders. Someday...maybe someday I will tell my secret to someone.

Ali

Hello. My story isn't completely an unusual one. It happened a long time ago. The worst thing about it, is that it was allowed to happen by two different people trusted. My first real boyfriend and second. I was sixteen, and not a day passed tht I didn't think of him. He was from nother country, and soon to leave for a month. He used that excuse to get to see me one last time, and try his way with me. he convinced me to go driving with him. I had snuck out of my house to meet him, so my parents had no way to know that I was gone. He met me at a small supermarket at night. I stupidly went with him. Well, as you could imagine, he drove to a field, and my anxiety grew. I was so glad that he ddn't stop there however. he came back to town with me. Just as I thought my rendevoux was over, and glad about it, he stopped at the side of a lonely road. There were houses near by, but I guess he didn't feel threatened by that. I trusted him so much that I thought he wouldn't dare try anything. We hd talked several times about waiting for sex. He kept trying to convince me, but it had seemed he respected my wishes. This night was to end my trust however. He quickly stopped the car, and got on top of me. I tried to pull away, and as he talked calm to me said to just let him do it. I tried to refuse, but he was already in me. My clotes were ripped half way down, and I was in pain. He hurt me inside and wouldn't stop. I begged him, and when he finally got off, he told me that I was going to be pregnant, and a mother. He told me he would take care of me. The crazy thing is, I thought I loved him. He told me never to tell anyone, and that he would take me to live in L.A. with him. I almost went even ough I was scared of him. I was afraid to be with him, and afraid to be without him. I wasn't pregnant though, and that's a good thing. He went to his country, and I sent him a letter to break up. I met a new guy shortly after. He seemed to be really sweet, and he was friend to alot of young people. He was 27. We started dating, and after a short while he started asking to visit me. When he came,my mom was there, so he was cordial. My mom didn't trust him a bit. He came to my house when my mom was gone, and talked me into letting him in my room. I told him we couldn't stay there, so I tried to leave. He forced me back in, and kissed me harshly. I tried to keep him from getting to me, but he did. He was teribly harsh, and it felt like he ripped me in both ends. He did Anal sex with me. I was in shock, and I felt like I dreamt it. I was too terrified to stop him though. I had trusted him too. The mistake was, I had told him confidentially about the other rape, so he knew I was vulnerable. He told me I was a whore, and that it was too late. I was a terrible person. I guess he knew that I already believed that myself, so he just decided to reinforce that thought. He left soon after, and I cried for a long time. he called me later and begged me not to tell, and to run away with him. I was so scared tht I was pregnant, that I did. I went with him. I was caught, and my mother told him he either better marry me, or I couldn't stay. thi was two days after I ran away. My mom had thought I was with my frend Araceli. I never told her what happened or she would have put him in jail. I endedup marrying the jerk, and living a hellish 10 years of physical and mental abuse with him. I cried every day about. I had four children by him, which I love dearly. I left him in 1989, and started over. I'm in school, and I'm going to get my Associates Degree in Science this May. I have earned 30 units over that, but it is finally going on paper this year. Who says we can't recover. Yes...I hve anxiety and Depression and PTSD, but it is well managed, and I do alot of things that keep me hppy. I haven't been brave enough to find someone though. I don't know if I ever will. I do have on guy that I have been having a crush on though. I do think he's a good guy. The problem is, he might not even consider me. I have been trying to get to know him safely. In my recovery, I am working on making sure I know which guys are safe, and which aren't. I saw my pattern of picking the wrong kind of guy, like my father who was abusive. I'm also finding out who I am, what there is to love about me, and how to respect myself. I hope to learn and get the best out of life. Thank you for reading my story. it has been very cleansing to me. I know these tings that happened weren't my fault, and that I couldn't really control them. Now is wen I have some control.

Kim

When I think of what I've been through, and compare it to the stories I've read here, I realize how lucky I am. While the things that have happened to me hold a lifelong effect on my emotions and for some part, my actions, I think I've reached the point in my life where I am almost completely healed. It took me twenty years to get here, and it feels damn good.

When I was three years old, my mother and father lived in a small, two bedroom apartment. I can't remember how many times it happened, or exactly what went on, but sometimes at night, my father would come into my room and touch me. He never raped me -- at least I don't think he did, and despite what did happen, doubt it went that far. He was gentle about it.. it didn't hurt really, just felt weird, and very wrong. I was too young to really understand what was happening, so I never said anything.

My parents seperated when I was four. My mother had been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis before I was born and the medication she was on to keep the disease in remission made her act like a real bitch more often than not. Eventually, my parents would fight so much that I actually ran away when I was four, calling up my grandmother and telling her to come pick me up before I packed a bag and (though not so hard since I wasn't that strong) slammed the door in my parent's faces. It was then that they realized we couldn't live like this, and each one went back home to their parents. I went with my mother.

I'm not sure how old I was when my mother found out. Since I didn't live with my father, I would often go and spend the weekend at my grandparents and visit all of them. I don't know if the molesting kept happening or not, but one day, before I went out the door to get into my grandmother's car, I hugged my mother and told her that I hope "daddy didn't play with my peepee again". She looked more shocked than I have ever seen her and she slammed the door, telling me I wasn't going. When everything was over, I wasn't allowed to be alone with my father and his visits were shortened to a day or two, rather than a few. He was never put in jail, and I'm assuming that since my mother was so family oriented that, despite his mistake, she didn't want me to grow up without a father. Maybe she thought that she could protect me.

My mother died the day before my tenth birthday, and my grandmother (her mother) died two months later. I had been staying with my aunt and uncle for the past two weeks and when my grandmother passed away I was given the choice of either staying with them or living with my father and my other grandmother (by then both grandfathers were dead also). I wasn't scared of my father, so I chose to live with him and except for one time he attempted to grab my breast (I jerked away quickly and he knew better than to try again) I thought the whole ordeal was over. I had never confronted him about it, never mentioned it, and never planned to.

I was twelve when my best friend, who often stayed over at my house, told me that my father had molested her on more than one occaision. He would come into my room after I was sleeping and touch her -- whether or not she was awake. She was so scared that she even tried to lock her pajamas one night. We didn't know what to do.. I didn't tell my grandmother because I don't think she ever believed it in the first place. I felt responsible to keep my friend safe, so each night, we would lock the door and barricade it. Blankets, toys, chairs.. everything we could was put up against the door so it wouldn't open. Finally, it stopped. Eventually, my friend told her mother, but she promised not to tell anyone else.

Again, we thought it was over. A year ago, a girl I knew from work was kicked out of her house and my grandmother agreed to rent her a room. We live in a four bedroom house and since my father has moved out (he lives with his girlfriend now) we had more than enough room. Since she was going to live there, I felt I had to tell her about what had happened. I told her to be careful and watch how she dressed in front of him. A few months ago, he made a pass at her. Fortunately, he was unsuccessful.

The time had finally come. The three of us, along with his girlfriend, sat him down and confronted him. I was twenty-two years old, and had never been more scared in my life. Well.. not scared but.. upset. It was honestly the hardest thing I've ever had to do. We convinced him to go to therapy, and doubt he'll try it with anyone else, now that it's so open. I feel bad for him in a way.. he's so loving, so devoted to the people he loves. I honestly think that for that split second before he does something he can't tell right from wrong.

One thing I have to say.. I haven't felt better. I'm planning on seeing a therapist, just to get everything out and clear up anything that still needs to be cleared. I love my father, and he would do anything for me. Maybe he really does feel sorry for what he's done. I think what will punish him the most though.. is knowing that no matter what, he'll never be trusted to be alone with my children when I have them. I think in a way, that will serve as better punishment than any jail sentence could have.

I'm really glad I'm sharing this. And as I said before.. I feel really lucky. My heart goes out to all of you who have suffered more than I could ever imagine. My e-mail box is always open. Thanks for listening.

Kelly

I'm not really sure if this is rape or not, but it happened when I was 12, and my uncle-in-law was living wit us, it was my aunt,him, his two brothers, and their baby. Anyways, I always liked him. He was always able to make me laugh and everything.

One night, it was late, and I was downstairs wit him, and he started poking me form the side, trying to tickle me, but that was innocent, cause he did that with my aunt also, but anyways, he kept on doing that,and I'm extremely ticklish, so I jumped everytime he did that, and he seemed to be enjoying my reaction each time. So once everyone was upstairs, he closed the downstairs door, and turned off the light, I was a little surprise by that,cause he was just watching t.v., but didn't think too much of it, I was on the computer, wit my back towards him, and he kept on poking me, then he did something he never done before, he wrapped his arms around me, around my chest area. I was surprised, and let me tell you, I developed very early in life. Heasked me if it was ok if he did that, and I thought nothing of it, so I just nodded my head. It's sorta blurry, then he went a step and started touching my breast, asking me if it was ok, and I wasn't so sure, cause my mom has always taught me not to let anyone touch my breast, esp. guys, so I didn't say yes, and I didn't say no either, he continued touching it, taking a step further each time, like reaching under my shirt, going under my bra, and he even grabbed it really hard, then he asked me if he could touch my privates. And I didn't want him to, so he was like "why not??" and I didn't want him to touch me, and by this time, I was already thinking what a pervert he was, I never thought a thing like this would ever happened to me, but he stopped for that night. I was acting really weird, like I was so ashamed of myself, I couldn't even look him in the eyes without feeling embarrased, I felt hopeless, like I was really dirty, well the next night, he did the same thing again, accept this time, I was trying to get away from him. so I went into my uncle's room, and tried to lock the door, but he was holding the doorknob, so I couldn't lock it, he kept on tyring to push it open, and I kept on pushing it closed, but he is stronger than me, so he got the door opened, and he started touching my breast, I din't want him to, so I tried to push him away and get out of the room, but he blocked my way, and pushed me in even farther. He approached me and tried to take off my pants, and reached in there, but i wouldn't let him, but he kept on. I started screaming, and that made him stop, and I got out as fast as I could, and ran for my other uncle's room, and this time he was too slow to hold the doorknob, cause I already got it locked. I stayed in there for probaly 30 minutes, and then I heard music going on, so I went into the living room, and I saw my aunt, and I knew it was safe, so I left the room, and went upstairs to my parents room, they had a bathroom in there, so I locked myself in, but he, for some strange reason able to open the locked door, and there was no key, I pushed it closed when I saw his face through the crack, and felt so scared, it was like he had magic, to open locked doors, all I could think about was how much of a pervert he was and how my aunt could have gotten married to him. That night, I couldn't sleep, all I could think about was him and his perverted ass, and I decided to myself that it would stop. The next night, he started to do the same things once again, but something different happened, I actually had the courage to tell him to stop, a courage I never knew I had. Here's what happened, he started reaching under my bra to feel my breast, but I stop him, and covered it with my arms across it, but he kept on trying to do it, so I was like, If you don't stop, I'm gonna tell my grandma, and he didn't believe me at first, so he continued, this time, I got mad so I got up, and opened the door, but he blocked my way, and I tryied pushing through him, and I susceeded. I opened the door, and he kept on pulling me back, so I yell out for my grandma, and that's when he finnaly left me alone, I felt so relieved. He hasn't touched me since, but what gets on my nerves is how he could go around acting like nothing ever happened, sometimes, I feel like smacking, punching, kicking, whatever to hurt him, I try not be in the same room wit him bymyself, but all I know is, if he tries to make a move at me again, I know that I have the courage to tell someone, no matter how embarrasing it would be. I know that many of the stories here are much more serious than mine, I don't even really consider myself to have been raped, cause it happened for like 2,3 days, and I was able to tell him to stop, and he did. So that's about all, i know this isn't much, but to me, during when he was molesting me, I felt so hopeless, like what did I do to have something like this happen to me. Well anyways, thats about all, and God bless to all. Luv ya'll ~~~~~~~

i was the kind of girl that staid home with the family.the kind that didn't care to hang out with friends or go to house parties.or do anything independently.a child forever.

i met him when i was 13.the day before my 17 b-day we started dating.mar.'97 i lost my viginity.i blame myself.the shame and guilt made me hurt myself.

2nd time:he wanted to try anal.i didn't know...i didn't.i was on my stomach.he put it in.i gaspped,begged him to take it out.every breath in my body was sucked out of me.i could barely force the word "no" past my lips when he told me he was putting it back in...the pain was so immense i felt my body go limp to avoid any further pain.

3rd time:we went to a friends house.call him 'J'.his dog attact me so i jumped on my boyfriends back.he carried me into a room.shut the door.locked and barracaded it.again on my stomach.i kept pushing away.he cursed.told me to move my hands.said he'd stop if i moved them.as i slowly did he gripped my wrists and pushed them into my back.he thrust himself into me.i screamed.cried 'you promised!'he covered my mouth.told me to "shut-the-fuck-up." then he smothered me with a pillow.i paniced .struggled harder.i could hear 'J' telling him to stop.after,i asked why----"because it feels good"

4th time:at another friends house he picked me up off the sofa and carried me towards a room.i held onto the doorway .yelled out to the guy---"tell him no.i don't want to." but he laughed and turned up the tv.my fingernails bent back as he ripped me away from the door.i resorted to letting him the 'regular' way rather than the other.

2nd to last:i don't know how often i just didn't want to fight anymore.i was walking home.he said his mom would take me the rest of the way.we got to his house.it was empty.he got my overalls off but i kept 'slipping' away.i had little shorts on.the phone rang.i ran.as the door cracked open i heard him.suddenly i was crushed into the door.he locked it,flung me back into the other room on the floor.we faught there for a moment.i don't remember being hit.all i can see is me flinging my arms at him,digging my nails into his neck,seeing his arms comming at me but not feeling them.eventually...i lost and i was on my stomach again.he wanted it 'that way' no other way .and i cried out louder than i ever had.it hurt the most.i cried out for help.someone please.but no one heard or no one wanted to.he said---"God damnit--shut-up.why do you have to be so loud someone could hear you." i told him that was what i wanted---"well they won't!the neighbors aren't home!"---he told me "just till the song ends." i continued my anguished cries.it must have been the longest song in the world.

i don't know why i staid with him so long.i think back and say to myself i should have left him after the 1st time,how could i let him over power me,why was i so weak,why did i let him belittle me!i think i was afraid no one would want me after that,after him.he told all his friends about how i 'let' him 'give it to me' anal.towards the end he told a guy "i'd nver force a girl if she didn't want to" turning to me---"right" elbowing me in the rib.

the last time,he tried to get me pregnant because i left him.he wanted to MAKE me stay.'J'was there again.they'd come to my house.as 'he' tried to hurt me again 'J' went outside,so he wouldn't have to hear.when they were leaving 'J' said --"you ruined his life!if he kills himself tonight it's your fault!"---the pathetic little scratch he had on his arm was nothing compared to the wounds i'd given myself.not even my weakest scarr was as half hearted as his.mine were months of torment spilling out thru blood his was ONE night of regret brought on by himself!

i told my boyfriend after him,6 mos into the relationship. he told me i should have faught harder.he asked who else i told.my best friend.he said that was stupid.some secrets are better kept.a month later he left me for 'a virgin',as he put it.he said if i wanted to keep a guy i'd better not tell him about what happened. so i decided to tell anyone i dated right away so i wouldn't have to waste any time on them if they were going to be stupid and insensitive about it.i have felt,ashamed, guilty,at fault but no one has the right to tell me i was or make me fell that way.

none of the people ever really heard what i was saying.they said "wow really" then never talked about it.it's not that i wanted them to dwell on it but it would have been nice if they at least cared.but ever since the 1st boyfriend i trusted and told i've always just mentioned it kind of matter-of-fact..."oh,by the way i was raped and sodomized." that way i wouldn't cry.i can't bring myself to talk to my mom about it.i know i couldn't take it.she tried to help me once,but i denied it.

it'll be 4 yrs in 2 mos.'he' called once.he said "but it was so long ago" i don't think he even realizes what he did.he couldn't understand why i left him.my own causin said that to me too,"but it was so long ago" i thought she'd understand,she was molested.yet she doesn't.i guess it's not quite the same.

well i have a loving husband who understands,he's supportive,he cries and has helped me to let the tears fall if they must.......

purple_wingz@hotmail.com

machele