**written October 6, 2018 and I’ve finally found the courage to post it**
I weep for my 5 yr old self remembering when a pre-teen boy held me down, climbed on top of me, and waved his erect penis in my face.
I weep because even though that little girl didn’t know it was sexual abuse, I remember not liking it at all.
I weep for the fear that followed me like a dark shadow after this first sexual violation.
I weep for my lost innocence.
I weep for my 7-8 yr old self remembering a teenage boy sticking his hands down my pants and sliding his fingers inside my vagina.
I weep because by this age I knew what was happening, I knew it was wrong, but I froze in complete fear.
I weep that I stayed quiet for so long because silence is acceptance.
I weep because I finally told my mom about the above molestation and when the teenager was confronted, he lied. “Oh. That? Ha! She must be a confused little girl. Ha! I was only tickling her. It was harmless. Ha!”
I weep because the lying boy was believed and the silly little confused girl was ignored; therefore, losing her voice for decades.
I weep for every day, for YEARS, I was taken back to that nanny’s house; for it was her sons who had abused me.
I weep because I’m not sure if my mom ever told my dad what happened because we never spoke of it again. Ever.
I weep because that experience taught me to never trust my parents with anything important, so I never told them anything good or bad that happened to me.
I weep because I learned very early in life to rely only on myself because my protectors would not protect me.
I weep for my 9-10 year old self remembering our family vacation when I went to our van in the hotel parking lot by myself to grab something from the back, only to have a grown man drive up next to me and stop. He was wearing sunglasses and a bandanna over his nose/mouth, completely naked and masturbating. I ran to our room and told no one.
I weep for my 11-12 year old self remembering another family vacation when I swam in the hotel pool with my younger brother while our parents were in the hotel room. Mid-frolic, I looked over to discover an adult man watching me. Then I realized his balls and penis were hanging out of his swim shorts. He smirked upon realizing I saw his proud display and he spread his legs wider. I quickly left the pool; again telling no one.
I weep because these experiences taught me that if others do not respect my body then why should I, so I carelessly gave away my virginity simply a few days after I turned 14.
I weep because of the reckless decisions I made with my body, yet thankful I’ve learned better of those ways.
I weep for my 16 yr old self (high school junior) when I was sexually assaulted by a high school senior boy at a New Years Eve party.
I weep because I blacked out from binge drinking, but was smart enough to find a safe place out of the way to pass out.
I weep because I “came to” just long enough to feel a weight on top of me, hear myself grunt, squirm, and push him away, then hear a boy’s voice pant in my ear, “don’t worry… I’m wearing a condom.”
I weep because I blacked out/passed out again then woke up the next morning with nothing on from the waist down, his sweatshirt next to me, and an empty bottle of Jim Beam on the floor.
I weep because the scent of Jim Beam takes me right back to that dark place, the night of my rape, and I avoid Jim Beam like the plague. Still. Nearly 30 years later.
I weep because all of his football buddies taunted me at school… believing the sex was consensual… calling me Mrs. **his last name**
I weep because the boy I was dating, a fellow football player, dropped me like a bad habit without even asking what happened because, of course, he believed his friends.
I weep because in that moment I learned I was easily disposable and worthless.
I weep because maybe, just maybe, these sexual abuses warped me so badly and are the core reason why no love relationship has ever worked in my life.
I weep because I kept my mouth shut knowing that I lost my voice at age 7-8 and no one would believe me anyway.
I weep because when I skipped school one day later that year to finish reading Centennial (1,056 page book **eye roll**) I was caught and a football player saw me in the counselor’s office being told my punishment, so he of course assumed I was pregnant.
I weep for the rumor mill that followed.
I weep because the girlfriend of my assailant found out and also believed that night was consensual. Fast forward to when she found me with friends one weekend and she attempted to kick my ass.
I weep because months later my abuser appeared at my house and apologized for his actions. He admitted his wrongdoing and shared remorse for the ridicule and emotional aftermath I experienced.
I weep because I forgave him in that moment. I could see his heart in his eyes as his voice trembled and his head lowered in shame.
I weep because he was man enough to at least admit his mistake and own up by apologizing in person; that took guts.
I weep because he told no one else of his wrong doing.
I weep because I let his lips stay just as sealed as mine remained.
I weep because I kept my mouth shut until said (then-ex) girlfriend mentioned above attended our 20 yr high school reunion with one of my guy friends… and I mustered up the courage, albeit liquid courage, to tell her what REALLY happened that dreadful night.
I weep because the words seared my tongue… hearing the truth escape my lips burned my ears and shattered my heart.
I weep because she believed me.
I weep because I regained my voice that night; twenty one years later.
I weep because I was embarrassed when it happened and as each word recounted the events of that New Years night, I relived that same embarrassment and utter shame as all of my friends with us that night heard my account of the assault.
I weep because they all believed me and comforted me.
I weep because today our U.S. government told every little girl that when you’re sexually assaulted you’d better keep it to yourself because “the old boys club” is strong.
I weep for my daughter as she is about to turn four years old in a matter of months because in just over a year she could experience something as horrifying as I did at five years old.
I weep because one day when she is sexually abused, molested, assaulted, and/or raped… I hope she comes to me for help and protection.
I weep because I pray she will know she can fight back, she can walk away, she can leave any situation and when the unthinkable happens, I pray she uses her voice to persecute the person who violated her.
I weep for the predator because this mama will kill him or her; no questions asked.
I weep because I said “when” rather than “if” it happens to my girl because we live in a world where sexual assault happens more often than it doesn’t.
I weep because everyone reading this knows more than one sexual assault victim… even if the victim has never told you. Chances are great… they haven’t told anyone.
I weep because my daughter will never be allowed to sleepover at anyone’s house. Ever. All because of the abuse her mom experienced 40 years ago.
I weep that there are so many people who jumped to “Why did she wait so long?” and/or “Why didn’t she report it?” along with other judgment and ridicule rather than embracing the victim with love, kindness, and compassion.
I weep because the doubters and finger pointers are inadvertently perpetuating the problem.
I weep for the #MeToo movement because ME TOO!
I weep because SO MANY women could scream ME TOO, but still choose to remain silent.
I weep because the confirmation action today confirms that they’re making the right decision to remain quiet.
I weep for every little girl who witnessed the SCOTUS events (Brett Kavanaugh) unfold on TV, news media, and social media. Today, she learned that an abuser can be voted into the highest court in the land (in the United States).
I weep because people made all of this about party lines rather than what it really is… a young girl was sexually assaulted by a young boy. And well, the rest of us simply replied, “Boys will be boys.”
I weep because for most of you who have known me for decades, this will be the first time you’ve heard any of this nonsense happened to me.
I weep that I’m eating a donut as I type this because I embraced emotional eating as a coping mechanism a LONG time ago.
I weep because even though I’m using my voice now, I’m still not ready to publish this to my blog that is open to the mass populous. **posted this only to my private Facebook page when originally written**
I weep because any of this is even part of my history.
Today, I weep…
For my daughter.
For every sexual assault victim.
For all little girls.
For little boys (yes, they’re assaulted too).
I even weep for the sexual assailants who were raised in a world that teaches them they can have anything they want… even someone else’s most private, intimate parts.
‘cause you know…
“Just grab them by the pussy…”
**For anyone who knows my sexual assailant, please be respectful of his privacy. He is not on trial here. He repented and was forgiven. Thank you**
© Renae Rossman and Candy Coated Reality™