Though I’m sure I experienced some type of sexual abuse as a child younger than 6, I cannot recount those memories. I do recall being overly sexual by the time I was 6 years old. I do, also, recall hating being around my aunts boyfriend (who I later found out molested my cousins). By the time I reached 9 years old I was already in training bras. At 12 years old I clearly remember the first moment I was molested. I went to ask my mother for something. She was laying in bed with her boyfriend with her back turned towards me. Her boyfriend reached over her, grabbed my arm and pretended to tickle me but in actuality was grabbing my breasts as I tried to free myself from his grasp. After that, I never wanted to be alone with him. From that single moment I hated my breasts. To this day, I can’t tolerate my breast being grabbed from that particular angle. I was raped for the first time at 17. I was out with two friends (one male and one fem ale). My male friend took us to his friends house. From there we all went out to get drinks and party. Upon ending our night I was blacking out. I remember bits and parts. The male friend I was with left me at his friends house so he could hook up with my female friend. His friend raped me. I still clearly remember trying to push his tongue out of my mouth, but I had no strength from all the alcohol. I was helpless. I remember trying to force my mouth shut and push him off of me. I failed. I woke up the next morning with no bra and no panties. I quickly put my clothes on. My male friend returned. I acted as if nothing happened. I felt disgusting. I still remember the guy who raped me saying, “she smells”. I smelled because at some point before the rape I had thrown up all over myself. That didn’t stop him. I ended going back to his house two weeks later and slept with him again. My attempt at gaining back some type of control. I should have went to the cops. I eventually told my male friend. He beat the guy up. That didn’t change the way I felt. At 18, again, I was drinking with friends I had grown up with my entire life. One male friend noticed I was stumbling so he laid me down in a room and locked the door behind him as he walked out. I heard a knock. Drunk I opened it. It was a different male friend. He began to kiss me. I told him to stop. He didn’t. I remember losing control of body and him holding up my legs to have sex with me. The next morning he went to my house and even asked me “so how was it? Do you even remember what we did?” I told him to leave. He did. I contemplated going to the cops but I felt guilty for drinking. I felt guilty that I had let myself be raped twice. I gave up drinking, I gave up sec. I got into a relationship 6 months after the second rape. We waited for 4 months to have sex. He was very understanding. He didn’t pressure me to have sex I told him what had happened to me . At this point I felt like my sole purpose was sexual.. That’s all I was good for. I lived recklessly for awhile drinking to numb the pain. I got into another relationship.My boyfriend stood by silently through all my mistakes. The rapes and sexual abuse I experienced deeply affected my relationships. I did what most survivors do, I studied my pain. I went on to study criminal justice with a focus on juvenile justice. My favorite class being Crimes Against Children. I psychoanalyzed myself. After having my first child, a boy, my purpose changed. I experienced sexual harassment at work at 24 years old. I put my foot down. I’m not this sexual object not this victim not this female to be used sexually. No. I’m somebody’s mother. With the support of my boyfriend, I reported the harassment to management. They weren’t very discreet about it but he did get fired. To my surprise he had done this to 5 other employees including a social worker. I was the first person to report him. My Mother stood by my side but my anger towards her for the molestation surfaced. I blurted out the incident on an emotional ride home. She blamed herself. Now with my second boy on the way, I look at sexuality completely different, family different and myself as a person different. My body is beautiful and can be admired but not violated not used. The rapes the molestation and the harassment weren’t my fault. It was their fault their wrong wiring that caused me so much pain. Pain that still comes back from time to time. I forgive them for myself. I’m here for so much more. I’m here to raise my boys into compassionate men. I’m here to be a good mother and protect my children. Because of my experience I’m more keen to red flags. I know I can’t always protect my boys but I have no problem speaking up when I notice red flags. I forgave my mother for it wasn’t her fault.. She never knew. I never felt comfortable telling her which is something I will carry with me as a mother. I want my boys to feel comfortable telling me anything. Now I’m stronger than I’ve ever been I’m strong for myself and for my kids.
— Bianca, age 25