I lived with my grandparents until I was 7 years old. My mother met a man in a 12 step program. She decided that she would like for myself and my 2 younger siblings to go live with them. The mans ex wife made an effort to warn my mother that he had sexually abused her child, as well as a teenage girl before her daughter. My mother chose to ignore the warnings that she had been given. The sexual abuse started when I was 8 years old. He would come into my room at night and touch me. He would also walk around in his underwear when she was not home. He would come in with his penis out of the hole in the front of his underwear to ask me if I was going to come help with my baby brother.
My little sister was finally brave enough to tell my mother. She made him leave, but let him come back. Eventually he was made to leave for good, but my mother decided that she didn’t want us and sent us back to our grandparents. My uncle began to sexually abuse me shortly after that. I was 11. This lasted until I was 17 years old. He use to just come into my room while his girlfriend was sleeping, perform sexual acts oral sex, things like that on me, he would put my hand on his penis. I never fought back. I didn’t see the point. I had already been put on trial once. That isn’t how it should be, putting the victim on trial, but the sad truth is that is how it is.
When I was 17, the molestation escalated to rape. All I really remember about the night I was raped is looking at a picture on the wall, I was crying and asking him to stop. He asked me if I was crying because I liked it too much. I told my sister what had happened. She told my aunt. My aunt and sister were supportive. My grandmother was as supportive as she could be. My mother held me down, choked me, called me a liar, told me that she would kill me for lying on her brother. There was enough evidence to convict hi m. I eventually dropped any charges due to the scrutiny I received from my “family”. My family doesn’t talk about it, not ever. I tried to talk to my aunt not long ago and I was told not to because she has to love him too. I have never talked about any of the abuse. I have no real support system.
I started doing drugs and drinking. I went from being a straight “A” student to skipping class and dropping out of school eventually. I am in a relationship now where I did disclose what has happened to me. I told him because I felt he deserved an explanation for why I flinched when he would try to touch me. I still do. The man who abused me first is now dead. My mother did however still sleep with him up until he was shot by police. He told his son, my brother, the truth about what had happened. That made it easier to forgive him.
My uncle still denies that he ever did anything to me. He now has a daughter. I worry for her all the time. I hope with all of my heart that he doesn’t do anything to her. I do not know how to forgive my uncle. I have to see him at family holidays, I have to talk to him. Forgiveness is hard to find.