When I was almost 10 years old my father started molesting me. He would come into my room and pretend he was there to help me fall asleep but all he was doing was touching me. I’m crying right now just remembering how scared, dirty, defenseless I felt every night. For eight years I felt like this. I was always afraid to go to bed because I knew that he would follow me. I never told anyone but I am sure my mom knew what was going on.
I remember one day when I was 11, my sister and I were sick and we fell asleep in my parents bedroom watching tv; I was woke up in the middle of the night by my am dad touching me. This is how I know my mom knew, she was in that same bed!
As I grew old enough to know the situation and to understand that what he was doing was not right; he used to tell me that he did it because he loved me. How could he do this to me? My own father!! I started going to bed really early and locking my door so he couldn’t come in, He would come every night and knock on my door, some days he would get really mad because of the door being locked. I always pretend I was asleep and I never opened. I think as time went by he realized that I was not that little girl anymore and that he could not do those things to me anymore.
Time went by and I moved out to go to college. My senior year in college my younger sister, 18 at the time, confronted him about him molesting her. I guess when he realized he couldn’t get to me anymore, he moved onto my little sister.
I felt and I feel so guilty, because I could have stopped him. If I would have say something about it…
I was so proud of my little sister; she had the courage I never had. My sister speaking gave me the courage I needed and I told my mom, She pretended she didn’t know and she acted surprised, but I know she knew. And the proof of that is that she is still married to him, even after she found out what he did to us.
I am now married and with a little daughter of my own whom he does get to see. I do not have a relationship with him anymore, we haven’t spoke in 8 years. He said that everything is a lie, that we got together and made these stories. So not true, my sister and I were both unaware of the other’s situation. We both were ashamed of telling. My dad, a name that he doesn’t deserve, every time I used that word to refer to him I feel sick inside. He even pretends to be sad and disappointed by his daughters.
I have never confronted him. I just told my mom. I know this site is about being brave, but I am not. I never had the courage, almost evey night I think about confronting him. I think about what I would say. I think about telling my younger brothers who were too young when my sister and I told our mother. I want them to know who he is.
One day I hope I can be brave. One day I hope I can stop feeling ashamed. One day I hope I get the courage to tell my husband. One day I hope I get the courage to confront my mom for not being there for me. One day one day I will be brave and confront my father face to face. One day I will tell him how much he hurt me. And I know one day I will not suffer anymore.