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Parental Incest Is Rape

I was 13 when my mother took off with her new boyfriend. I told her that I was afraid of him. She told me not to worry. He was strong and he was going to take care of us. She told me that I was the product of an affair and the dad who raised me was not REALLY my dad and he did not love me. Over and over. Eventually I believed her.

We moved from place to place over the next two years. They were very secular in front of me. He would not let me have friends. I was never allowed to date. I was confined to home and school only. I NEVER questioned them. I did what I was told. The summer I turned 15, we lived in a small house in Pleasant Grove, TX. It was hot and we had no air conditioning. The boyfriend’s name was Richard. He was working in a gas station as an auto mechanic. That summer, my mother started telling me that I could just wear bra and panties around the house because it was so hot. She’d say I was flat chested and Richard wouldn’t look at me “that way.” Well, it was all a set up. They planned to “make me a woman” before I “slutted myself out to some teenage boy.”

My mother participated in the sex. It went on all summer. They kept saying that we would stop any time I wanted to. She kept telling me not to say anything because they would have to send me back to my dad. She kept telling me my “dad” did not love me.

At the end of that summer, I finally said I did not want to do it anymore. We stopped and then, my mother turned vicious on me. I was a slut that tempted him. She said Richard didn’t want her anymore. I stayed with them for two more years. I still was not allowed out except for school. I still never told a soul. My mother used a belt on my legs when she got mad at me. Richard used his hands when he got mad at me.

One week before my 18th birthday, I walked out and never looked back, to her. I lived with my older sister for awhile. I went delinquent. My dad called me in El Paso, TX. He asked me to come live with him and at least finish high school. I loved my dad. So I did go back to him and finished high school. He saved my life at that point. He did love me.

It turns out that my mother had confessed to my older sister what had happened. She told our dad. Apparently he could not believe that our mother would have done that to me. My father asked me one night, if Richard had ever done anything wrong to me. I LIED AND TOLD HIM NO, BECAUSE I WAS ASHAMED. I discredited my sister. I never told my father the truth and I never apologized to my sister, who was just trying to help. I was so ashamed.

Fast forward 16 years. My wonderful husband and I had a good sex life. But we had problems. I found a Christian based counselor who saved me / us. I told my husband about my mother and Richard, because he didn’t understand why I never called or visited or talked about my mother. On the very first visit, deep into the session the counselor asked me if I had been involved in incest. Or if I’d been forced into sex against my will. “WHO, ME?” I told him “No!” The next session I came clean, and told the truth. He gently broke it to me that I WAS incested by my own mother and her boyfriend; and that constituted RAPE. I was 34 or 35 years old, and had never admitted to myself that my mother raped me the summer I turned 15 years old. The counselor was kind, thorough, persistent and right. He moved away after about 6 months of treatment. I worked with several other therapists over the following 5 years.

I’ve read countless books, articles and heard dozens of accounts from men and women. My mother eventually married and then divorced Richard. She apologized countless times to me. She confessed to HER sister. My mother said that she told Richard’s parents. Maybe.

Now, I am 62 years old. I am no counselor, and I do not tell about my experience very often. Sorry to say that I meet so many women who tell me they were incested by a brother, uncle, neighbor, and never told. I have read countless articles and books about this. I can almost “guess” when I see grown women who are flirty with their brothers or fathers, or much older men. Like at work.

I never forgave my mother. She was married 3 times more after Richard. She took up housekeeping; and she died in a house where she was working. Just for the record: two of my brothers, my sister AND I brought her to live with us (between husbands), and she ended up leaving, dissatisfied with our ways of life.

My life with my husband of 40 years is good. I love him. We still have fun sex. My advice to anyone, especially young girls, is TELL TELL TELL. Your incest perpetrator will threaten or frighten you. That’s what they do. THEY are the evil ones. Save yourself. Don’t protect your rapist. TELL SOMEONE. ANYONE. YOU CAN BE STRONG.

— Linda, age 62

1 comment

  • Alissa Ackerman

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