I Was 11 Years Old

I was 11 years old, running around, building forts, playing acting and singing, doing all of the normal things 11 year old girls do.  We were living with my mom’s boyfriend’s friend, Fred, in a brick house because we did not have a place to live.  This was a big, old house that had many small rooms, and I had a room of my own.  Stacey was the house owner, and he seemed very nice.  Not long after we moved there, I was playing in the backyard and Stacey picked me up and put me on his shoulders.  

He was very tall and I could see everything from up there.  Eventually, he took me to an area filled with grass and brush and we were hidden from everything else.  He proceeded to molest me that day and began a trend of sexual abuse that plagued my childhood.  My mother noticed that something about me had changed a couple of days after it happened and she asked me what was wrong. I told her what Stacey did to me.  She immediately went the police and I was asked to make a statement of what happened. Stacey pled guilty, and we never saw him again.  We continued to live in his house for some time, and my mom’s boyfriend took advantage of a door that had been opened by Stacey, on Christmas Eve of that same year.  Fred put me on his knee and kissed me like a boyfriend would on that Christmas Eve and told me to never discuss what happened that night. I never did, and in fact, I forgot that experience for many years until it popped in my head randomly years later.

Fred began to target me for sexualization purposes soon after the Stacey incident.  When I was 12 years old, living in a different home, my mother was working as a blackjack dealer until late in the evening.  Fred decided it would be a good time to molest me, which he did. It was much more damaging than what Stacey had done to me, and left me with scars to last a lifetime.  One day, my mother noticed something different with me again, and it looked all too familiar.  She asked me if Fred had done had ever done anything to me, and I told her what he did.  She went into a rage, which was not uncommon for her, and she was blaming me and saying it was my fault that he did those things to me.  She said I must have done something to make him do that.  I was devastated and heart-broken.  The remainder of my teenage years included having sex with many men, some much older than me, until I found a relationship that met my emotional needs at the time. 

Subsequently, my relationships with men and women have been difficult and strained and trust is always an issue.

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