It was a warm summer day, we were standing in the kitchen looking at a book, a newspaper, a magazine… Something. What it was escapes me now, over 15 years later, but I can recall nearly every other god damn detail from that moment. I can still feel the warmth of the sun, on my back, shining in from our huge North facing kitchen windows, and the feeling of his hand groping my ass with an intensity that made me feel he felt entitled to it.
 
I was around 13, and he was 21. I was young, and terrified. Not knowing what to do I just stood there, frozen in fear and let it happen until someone came into the kitchen and I made my escape.
 
He was my cousin.
 
I never spoke a word of that day. I also never told anybody of all the other times that followed. I was silent out of fear and embarrassment until I learned, as an adult, that two of my other female cousins had similar experiences with this pathetic excuse for a man.
 
I’ve always firmly buried my feelings and emotions thanks to years of growing up in a non-communicative, abusive, alcoholic family. Every single one of those emotions that I suppressed as a youth came rushing back ten-fold when his face popped up in my Facebook news feed. There it was, without warning, I saw his face in a news piece, shared by Global BC with the caption “Surrey RCMP seek more victims of alleged child sex offender.” All of those emotions plus fear, regret, anger, upset… But this time those emotions were not channelled at him, but at myself. If only I had told someone, perhaps his other victims–the ones after me–could have been spared his disgusting groping. 
 
While I may no longer be that terrified 13 year old, a part of her still lives as this vigilant and sometimes frightened 30 year old, mother. My two precious babies are just as innocent as I once was. I have to protect them, and work on me. I have to forgive myself because I was so scared, and paralysed. 
 
I may not have the ability to change the past, but you can sure as hell bet that I will let it influence my present, and my future. I will strive to create a safe and trusting environment for my family, complete with open lines of communication and unconditional love. I will listen, I will share, and I will do my best to ensure that my kids will never feel the shame or embarrassment in opening up to me as I did as a child.
 
No one should have to suffer in silence.
Author

An amazing collection of bright women who somehow manage to work, play, parent and survive and write blog posts all at the same time. We are the BLUNTmoms, always honest, always direct and surprising hilarious.

13 Comments

  1. I want to thank the author for this piece. As a parent, we always talk about stranger danger, and even close family and friends making bad choices and that they sometimes touch private bits.
    In my head… and truly, I was convinced of this… that if it did happen, my kids would tell me about it.

    Your experience was like a shot in the head with a sledge hammer. Of course they would try to hide it. Of course they would allow their fear and embarrassment stifle their ability to share with Mom. It just didn’t occur to me before.

    You wrote this piece, and as your editor, I saw it before today. This weekend, I spoke to my daughter and told her what her reaction might be and that she has to tell me anyway. I told her that no matter what happens to her, it is not her fault, and she would have done nothing to bring it on. Nothing.

    I promised her I would not blame her in any way, and that I would take her side and believe her no matter how it happened.

    I had that conversation with my girl because you taught me about how kids think. I just didn’t know.

    Thank you.

  2. I agree with the previous comment. There is no rule that says you were responsible to share your story until right now. His future abuse after you is not in any way your fault. It’s his. It always will be his. Victims may never tell their story because it’s also choosing to relive and welcome more pain, especially if you were used to living in an environment where you were ignored. You were ready when you were ready. And thank you. For speaking up. It is a tool for me to use as a reminder to give my kids a talk. Peace to your heart.

  3. You are not a victim. No matter what you have been through, you’re still here. You may have been challenged, hurt, betrayed, beaten, and discouraged, but nothing has defeated you. You are still here! You have been delayed but not denied. You are not a victim, you are a victor. You have a history of victory.

    –Steve Maraboli

  4. This scenario is one of my greatest fears in raising children, that something so terrible could be perpetrated by a family member or equally trusted friend. Part of me wanted to tell my children to trust no one after reading this, and then I saw how Magnolia framed it for her daughter. Bingo. As difficult as it is to talk to our kids about this stuff, it’s vital. They don’t know how much we support them unless we make it explicit, and I think we forget that all. the. time. Because we love them so much. Because we assume so much.

    Thank you for your bravery in sharing. xxx+o

  5. Change starts with you. Your children as well as others will have more skills because of your unfortunate situation and the sharing of it.

    I hope that with time, this man’s actions will no longer haunt you.

    Besos, Sarah

  6. This is both powerful and important. I plan on reading it over again, only this time with my kids.

  7. I think understand how you feel. I was raped while serving in the US Army. I didn’t report it. He eventually raped another young soldier, who only reported it after being pushed to by her dad, who noticed her ever-growing depression. She got in trouble with her chain of command. Our rapist barely got a slap on the wrist, while she received an Article 15. She committed suicide. I live everyday with the knowledge that if only I’d spoken up, maybe things would have been different. The rapes are his, but the inaction and resulting guilt is all mine. I have utmost empathy for you, poor girl. How about this. I’ll forgive you, if you forgive me?

    • Andi-Roo, let me start by saying that I admire your courage in posting this comment and putting your real name on it. You, my new friend, are an amazing and strong individual. But I disagree with you. I don’t think that either of you need forgiveness. I think it would be an incredibly unfair world if the victims were in any shape form or fashion accountable for the perpetrator’s crimes. YOU are not at fault. Your only responsibility as the victim is to get through the day. That is it. Virtual hugs and hugs and more hugs. – Lynn

    • Andi-Roo, girl, hindsight is always 20/20. What could have been was never meant for us to know–it could have easily happened anyway. Or he could have done something worse as a result of it. But you weren’t responsible for his actions, and neither is your silence responsible for what he did. I am sorry for what happened to you, and sorry you feel guilty. But just never forget: the end decision was his.

  8. Lynn and Anne, thank you for your kindness. And I know what you say is right and true and correct. But logic and emotions don’t always meet up in matters of the broken soul. It’s like holding onto two strings that both belong to the same balloon, but you know if you let go one, the whole thing will fly apart and ruin the parade. And then you’re the one who messed up the float. So you keep holding those two strings, even though they are pulling in opposite directions, because it’s the lesser of two evils. Over time, the balloon loses air and starts to sink of its own accord, and this is good, because it’s when the healing can begin. My balloon is slowly coming down, almost within arm’s reach. I can almost touch it. And when the happens, I can let go of all the logic and emotions, both strings being pointless then, and deal with the issue itself. Until then, I deal with the guilt even as I know it isn’t mine, and I wait for the balloon to land.

  9. Linda Unwin Reply

    I was 11. It was an uncle. It lasted for months. I finally told my mom. My parents made him come and apologize to me. He cried. I felt guilty for telling. My parents felt it had been dealt with and it was never spoken of again. I am now 65, and, even after years of therapy, etc, it still affects who I am today. I did, however, make sure that my children were never victims, and now I am teaching the 8 year old grandgtr we are raising to never be a victim either. Be strong, forgive yourself as you did nothing wrong.

  10. It happened to me Reply

    This happened to me, as a young girl. A male cousin. It went unspoken. ..I was afraid to tear my family apart.

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