My story begins when I was five. A trusting child lured into a neighbor's
house by a young man and a young woman. Using fear tactics, they sexually
assaulted me in their basement. It only happened once, but it affected
the rest of my life.
They had frightened me into silence by telling me that they would take me
far away from my family if I ever revealed what happened. As a coping
mechanism, I pushed the events from the forefront of my mind. Still,
I began to do unhealthy things to make sure it never happened again. I
stopped taking care of myself, and I began to eat a lot. I guess I
thought that if I wasn't pretty, it wouldn't happen again.
I was also a very violent and depressed child. Every day I would figure
out ways to kill myself. I also was a tomboy who was known to get into
fights. It was because of my anger that my parents transferred me into
private school. I became withdrawn, and my depression grew.
In seventh grade, some of the memories started to poke through. That was
the year the school had divided the boys and the girls to talk about sex.
I was concerned because no one had mentioned any of the topics to me
before, yet I already knew them. I had vague ideas that something
was wrong with me.
During my Junior year, I finally told my father that I had problems with
thinking about suicide. We went in search of a good therapist for me.
We found her a few months before the holidays. She had an idea of what
was wrong with me, but never mentioned it at the time. We spent my
remaining high school years dealing with my depression and anger. By the
time I graduated, I was starting to take care of myself again.
When I went away to college in another state, my freshman year was a mess.
Not only was I in a totally new situation, my memories of the assault came
to me in full force. After the term was over, I went back to my therapist
to work on the abuse. It was then that she told me that she was an
incest survivor and that she had a feeling that I had been assaulted when
she first met me.
Because of the short time we had before school started up again, we met
twice a week in intense therapy sessions. By the time I had gone back
to school, I was a different person. It makes me not so sad to say that
I lost a few of my first year friends because of the change. They were
users, and they didn't like the fact that I wouldn't do some
things anymore.
I met a wonderful man my second year of college. When we began to date,
I told him about the assault. Because I was so open with him, he allowed
me to set my own pace concerning the physical aspect of our relationship.
We were married a year after we met.
I'm currently back in school, two years away from graduation. My husband's
still wonderful, for which I am so thankful. Things have not been easy,
but I know I will get through it one day at a time.
