I Will Stay Strong

My mother used to cry because she always thought my father was seeing another woman and that he loved the other woman more.  I always wanted to scream and yell at her, "I am the other woman! I am my father's whore!"  She was too blind to see all that was happening right before her eyes.

Even after my parents separated, my mother allowed my father to come and visit, and they would pretend as if they were still married.  On some late nights, I still remember, my father would ask my mother to go pick up food from some late night restaurant.  As soon as she leaves, my father would come in the room and wake me up, needless to say, I was awake the entire time anyway.  He would tell me that we only have very little time; he would do all ungodly things to me and clean up just in time for my mother to walk through the door with his food.  He would whisper to me, "good girl, now go back to sleep". He’ll walk out of the bedroom, my mom would serve him his food, he'd eat, then they would pretend like they were a happy couple, and  he’d act as if he was so happy to see her and be with her.  

I would cry and pretend that I was asleep all night; I wouldn't sleep though because I knew that sometime later in the night, when my mom was fast asleep, he will come back to me and touch me again.  He was sick and twisted; he took every chance he got to do all kinds of things to me.  He had no shame and he never felt sorry for me. Sometimes I even wonder how I survived all that.  Maybe it was my fighting spirit telling me that I can rise above every pain he caused me, every shame he brought me, and every vile things he’s done to me.  I am strong and I have survived for almost 20 years now, and I plan to keep going.  There are days that I think I’ll break but I know I can’t and I won’t, I will stay strong for me, and for my kids.  

Where do I begin?

"I am a survivor, NOT a victim"

It's been 19 years since it ended, 27 years when it first started (as far as I can recall). Every time I think I've moved past it, the more that I realize that I will never get over it; my childhood and innocence taken from me. I used to quietly cry every night, covering myself tight with a blanket, praying hard "please, not tonight". Every day I went to school, ashamed of my little secret, afraid someone would see through me and see how dirty I felt inside; so I always tried so hard to be the best, to not give anyone a reason to look beyond. But deep inside I wanted so badly for someone to see through me, hoping that somehow, someone will finally stop the monster that comes in my bed every night. Every day I hated myself for what was happening, confused and afraid. I knew what my father was doing was wrong but I also didn't know what was right so I couldn't speak up. Instead, I submitted and pretended that I was transported in another place every time it was happening.  

When my parents separated, it was the only way we'd get financial support from my father, by coming over to his house and he'd make me do all kinds of things to him for hours. After I leave his house, I'd run across the street to throw up and cry before I run back home. The touching started when I was 7 or maybe even younger, and I lost my virginity when I was 10, he said I was ready. It was the most awful pain I've ever felt. I cried and was scared because I couldn't stop the bleeding. I didn't know what to do but he told me I was a good girl and that I did good, but I didn't feel good, I felt soiled, dirty, and tainted. I remember my friends telling me about getting their menstrual period so I wondered if that was how they got their first period as well but I was too afraid to ask because I was afraid to know the truth.  I remember he told me it was my fault for making him love me that much. Every night, I had nightmares and when I'd wake up all I wanted to do was run and hide; shut out the images, block out the voices, close my mind and imagined that I was in someone else's body and in another life. I blamed myself, it was my fault, but I couldn't understand how it was my fault? I was just a child. 

I read somewhere that people who inflict pain on others usually does it because someone has inflicted them greater pain. Could it be true? Could my father have gone through the same as what he's done to me or worse? If only he knew what he's done? If only he knew what I've been through. If only he knew how much hate I have inside because of him. Would he have not done what he's done, if he only knew? But if it was true that someone might have caused him more pain, shouldn't he know better than to cause more pain to others?

There are days that I hate my father more than anything, but there's some days that my hate towards my mother is greater than the hate I feel towards my father. She turned a blind eye when my father was abusing me. She went deaf when I finally told her what happened. How could she? I remember the day I told her, she cried but she never said anything. She didn't try to comfort me or tried to make me feel safe. Even after days have passed, we never talked about it nor was it ever mentioned again. She pretended as if it never happened or I never spoke of it. I still recall the one day when she finally said something to me; she said "you have to move on". And that was that.

I have my own family now and every night I still cry myself to sleep, this time not for myself, but I'm afraid for my daughters. My own mother couldn't save me then, she was too blind to see what was happening or sometimes I think she was too afraid to admit what was happening. What if I make the same mistake? I'm afraid to let my daughters down; I don't want to be a failure. I want to be able to shield them from the horror I went through as a child. I don't want them to grow up with the same hate and monster that I had inside me. How can I live with myself if I let them down?

I thought I survived the monster that used to terrify me as a child, the monster that sometimes still haunts me in my dreams. But sometimes, I still feel powerless. I'm still a coward; don't know how to face the monster that deprived me of my childhood. The monster that caused me great agony, the monster that caused me to doubt everyone including myself, the monster that made me thinks that I am worthless. I excelled in life but only to a point that I believed I could. Something inside me always stopped me at my track and tells me that I am not good enough. There are demons inside me. I dreamt of killing the monster, over and over. It always felt good but it was useless for the shame he brought me would never go away. But the demons inside me want to be let free. I want to confront the monster and ask him why? Why me, his own blood and flesh? I was helpless.

It's been 19 years since the sexual abuse ended and I still feel every pain, I still hear the monster in my head, I'm still scared to close my eyes and fall asleep only to be woken up by the monster by my bed. I still tremble when I think of it, my body tense, my jaw clench, and the tears non-stop. I feel helpless and sick, could barely move at times from this sick feeling. When will I heal or will I ever heal? I read that forgiveness is the way to heal. That by forgiving someone doesn't necessarily mean you're forgetting, it simply means, you are freeing yourself of the burden. But how do you forgive? If I forgive, will I have to then admit that it happened, the secret and shame that I kept for so long, the memory that I tried so hard to forget? How do I admit to something that is beyond my understanding?

My story is not a happy one. My story is sad. My story is true. My story will cause anger and pain on some. I am not writing to please others or to create pain or to put blame on anyone. I write to help me heal because I am in pain; I have been in pain down to my core for as long as I can recall, because I am angry; I have been angry for as long as I have lived. I am exhausted; I want to be free of this misery. I thought that by now, forgiveness would have come easily; instead, forgiveness seems beyond my reach. My sweet childhood memories have been recently replaced by the nightmares I endured as a child. Each painful memory flashes back in my head as if they happened just yesterday.  

I am tired of pretending that I'm ok. I am broken. I feel that my soul is beyond repair. I want to forgive. I want to be free. I need help and I want help but again, where do I begin?