a little bit about me
May. 10th, 2010 01:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mickeymThe events of this past weekend have got me thinking about things I don't dredge up very often anymore, mostly because I've made peace (for the most part) with those things, but also because there are still sore spots, and no one likes pressing on things that hurt, right?
I was molested/assaulted by my stepbrother. For about two and a half years, give or take a few months.
He was 16, I was 12 when it started. Actually, technically, he was 15-almost-16, and I was just-turned-12. My mom started dating his dad in the fall of 1979, and looking back now I can see things I didn't see then -- or didn't have the world view/experience to recognize. Robert made inappropriate comments to me (99% of which flew right over my head), talked dirty to me (ditto), would arrange situations so that he and I were alone to watch TV in our rec room or whatever, and he'd settle close to me, inside my personal space. I don't remember if it made me uncomfortable. There was a lot about that time period I've blanked out that had nothing to do with him, so some stuff has just gotten lost, no matter why.
Our parents got married in June of 1980 -- he turned 16 in May. Shortly after the wedding was when he upped the ante on things, catching me unaware and kissing me, touching me. It was disturbing in the sense that he made me feel things I had no clue how to deal with, or express, or understand. I had no one to talk to about what was going on, and in fact I withdrew into myself for weeks -- hoping someone would say something to me, pick up on it, do something. No one did.
He didn't rape me, as such, in the sense that there was nothing violent or abusive. But I never knew/realized I had the option to say no -- and unfortunately I was at the age when kids start getting interested in sex. He took things slow and easy, careful not to scare me off by doing too much too fast. I was 12 and a half when he kissed me and fondled me the first time; I lost my virginity to him a couple weeks after I turned 13. We had a pregnancy scare at one point when the condom slipped off, and all sorts of other stuff. For a long time I was convinced I was in love with him (it was a kid's crush, but you know how those go).
My mom found out while I was in Europe, as an exchange student - that was the summer of 1984. In spite of the fact that all this went on for 2 and a half years, just down the (very short) hallway from her and my stepdad's bedroom, she swore she never knew. In spite of me trying for a couple of months in every way I could think of to let her know, short of SAYING "hey, Robert's doing stuff to me". In spite of me asking her point blank once "what would you do if I got pregnant?", she maintained she didn't know.
She read my diary. She and my stepdad split up while I was in Europe, and our house sold and they had to be out, so she and my sister packed up my room. And she read my diary which of course had all kinds of juicy details in it... and then she confronted me about it, blamed me for it, got angry with me, and bundled me off to counseling.
She blamed ME.
I never told anybody about it until I met a friend my sophomore year in HS who had a similar story, though in her case it was her older sister's husband. But for two years no one knew, because I didn't think I could tell anyone...and when the one person I wanted to know did find out, she turned it back on me.
Compared to what some people have experienced, mine wasn't so bad. Once my mind and my body synched up (and I will never, ever believe that 12yr olds are old enough to have sex) I enjoyed the sensations -- but I also wonder if some of it was just enjoying the attention. Because I was a geeky, gawky, all-alone new-girl-in-town with no friends and a mother who was too busy and too frazzled to pay me much attention. So I convinced myself I was okay with it. To be truthful, it's nearly 30yrs in the past, and like I said up above, I've deliberately blocked a lot of memories for other reasons, so it's hard to say.
But I felt like I couldn't say anything. And for everyone who's ever been in that position under ANY circumstance, my heart goes out to you. You have my support and my admiration, and if you ever need an ear and want to tell someone, you can tell me. I would be happy to be able to do that for you.
And now that that's out of the way, here's a link, of someone with an incredible survivor's tale: http://impertinence.livejournal.com/546310.html (Warning: Definitely triggery stuff in that post.)
I was molested/assaulted by my stepbrother. For about two and a half years, give or take a few months.
He was 16, I was 12 when it started. Actually, technically, he was 15-almost-16, and I was just-turned-12. My mom started dating his dad in the fall of 1979, and looking back now I can see things I didn't see then -- or didn't have the world view/experience to recognize. Robert made inappropriate comments to me (99% of which flew right over my head), talked dirty to me (ditto), would arrange situations so that he and I were alone to watch TV in our rec room or whatever, and he'd settle close to me, inside my personal space. I don't remember if it made me uncomfortable. There was a lot about that time period I've blanked out that had nothing to do with him, so some stuff has just gotten lost, no matter why.
Our parents got married in June of 1980 -- he turned 16 in May. Shortly after the wedding was when he upped the ante on things, catching me unaware and kissing me, touching me. It was disturbing in the sense that he made me feel things I had no clue how to deal with, or express, or understand. I had no one to talk to about what was going on, and in fact I withdrew into myself for weeks -- hoping someone would say something to me, pick up on it, do something. No one did.
He didn't rape me, as such, in the sense that there was nothing violent or abusive. But I never knew/realized I had the option to say no -- and unfortunately I was at the age when kids start getting interested in sex. He took things slow and easy, careful not to scare me off by doing too much too fast. I was 12 and a half when he kissed me and fondled me the first time; I lost my virginity to him a couple weeks after I turned 13. We had a pregnancy scare at one point when the condom slipped off, and all sorts of other stuff. For a long time I was convinced I was in love with him (it was a kid's crush, but you know how those go).
My mom found out while I was in Europe, as an exchange student - that was the summer of 1984. In spite of the fact that all this went on for 2 and a half years, just down the (very short) hallway from her and my stepdad's bedroom, she swore she never knew. In spite of me trying for a couple of months in every way I could think of to let her know, short of SAYING "hey, Robert's doing stuff to me". In spite of me asking her point blank once "what would you do if I got pregnant?", she maintained she didn't know.
She read my diary. She and my stepdad split up while I was in Europe, and our house sold and they had to be out, so she and my sister packed up my room. And she read my diary which of course had all kinds of juicy details in it... and then she confronted me about it, blamed me for it, got angry with me, and bundled me off to counseling.
She blamed ME.
I never told anybody about it until I met a friend my sophomore year in HS who had a similar story, though in her case it was her older sister's husband. But for two years no one knew, because I didn't think I could tell anyone...and when the one person I wanted to know did find out, she turned it back on me.
Compared to what some people have experienced, mine wasn't so bad. Once my mind and my body synched up (and I will never, ever believe that 12yr olds are old enough to have sex) I enjoyed the sensations -- but I also wonder if some of it was just enjoying the attention. Because I was a geeky, gawky, all-alone new-girl-in-town with no friends and a mother who was too busy and too frazzled to pay me much attention. So I convinced myself I was okay with it. To be truthful, it's nearly 30yrs in the past, and like I said up above, I've deliberately blocked a lot of memories for other reasons, so it's hard to say.
But I felt like I couldn't say anything. And for everyone who's ever been in that position under ANY circumstance, my heart goes out to you. You have my support and my admiration, and if you ever need an ear and want to tell someone, you can tell me. I would be happy to be able to do that for you.
And now that that's out of the way, here's a link, of someone with an incredible survivor's tale: http://impertinence.livejournal.com/546310.html (Warning: Definitely triggery stuff in that post.)
no subject
Date: 2010-05-10 04:19 pm (UTC)