If you put a light on it evil can't hide

With a small push from my very supportive mother I write this. This is not something I want to write about. I really wanted this blog to be about T-rex and his crazy job and how being a wife to someone with this crazy job is like nothing else out there. We don’t get enough support (our husbands need more support too!).


But this blog brought some this out and for the sake of my sanity and because I know it matters I am going to write about it.

I will warn you now it is long.

I got my first job when I was thirteen years old. I saved most of my money, and the summer before my 15th birthday I had saved enough money to fly to Hawaii and stay with my aunt and uncle for a semester of school. My parents, who trusted family, and saw how great an opportunity this was, were very supportive of everything. I remember just thinking “I get to get out of this small dumb town!” I didn’t worry about missing my parents too much, I was never one for homesickness, and I didn’t worry about missing friends, as I didn’t like most people. My boyfriend and I were not really in a relationship as much as still JR high dating. There was nothing keeping me in my small Kansas town and such an appeal to go to Hawaii.

My parents seemed to make things hard for me. Because my Aunt was in the Army I needed a military ID to do anything. I could not even go to the gas station and get a pack of gum by myself anymore because my Aunt did not have custody of me. My parents were not going to budge on that either. I was so mad at that. Yet, it turned out to be the best thing they could have done for me.

Getting into all the graphic details is still hard, look at the first police report made a few years later and all you will is a lot of sarcasm, pain, and anger . . . not very many details. The details are hard to think about still. I will give that, perhaps I am not “healed” or maybe I am to a point where it does not take over my life, I now have the power to think about it or not . . .I like not.

It started nearly right away, before I was 15. My uncle who I shall call JerkBag from here on out, started by pushing up against me. A lot of the rest is a blur. Then one night the stress from the pressure to have sex with him became too much, my back hurt really bad, I could not sleep, and it was already past midnight. I remember crying in the hall way. That is when I wanted my parents, I wanted my safe bed where my mom left me alone, and my dad wouldn’t even do the wash because he had three girls. I grew up knowing how an adult male should treat a younger female, and this was FAR from it. I had a new respect for my dad and his “um, yeah you look nice” response.

But JerkBag did get up and rather than comfort me the way a person should he gave me a back rub. I knew in that moment the only way to get the love and support I needed was sexually. I guess that is why I stopped fighting so much. I didn’t really see that I could say no anymore.

The sexual abuse lasted for the rest of my time there about 4 months or more. I lived with a lot of guilt for never saying “No” But I have had to let that go. I was 14 when this started, millions of miles away from home, and I was manipulated. People like him can work on girls for a long time to get them to think that there is no option, or worse yet that it was the girl’s idea all along.

I am not a dumb person I noticed some of what was going on, but I was afraid to do anything about it. Where was I going to go? Who was going to keep me safe? My aunt was gone at some army training for much of this.

I got sent home when a small incident happened. I and a group of friends were staying over at a single guy’s house; he had night duty and needed a sitter for his daughter. I foolishly said I would go with my friends; we would all be safe if we were together. I did not count on them passing out so soon. I was also dumb to drink a beer. I was not drunk; I just want that down on paper, and mom if you are reading this. .it wasn’t beer it was soda pop! I guess that made me more afraid, or on edge or something. But he came and pushed up against me, rubbed me and I started to fear I was not able to get away. I went to the bathroom and cut myself like I had been doing to deal with the stress, and then he started it again, but the noise must have gotten a friend up, she does not remember, but she saved me that night.

That was enough to have my parents put me on the next flight home. I am not sure what all they knew but I still have mix feelings about what they did. It was not right to pull me away from my friends so fast. I felt like I had done something wrong, and I didn’t. Yet, I needed out of there, I needed out of there a week after I got there.

Ah the cutting, you caught that too. . . .It was just how I dealt with the stress. Yet even for a long time I was in trouble for it. My mom did not always deal with that in the best way. I would say she failed a few times before we got it right. I say we got it right because as much as she “failed” I know I didn’t help. This is not to put my mom down, or say she was a bad mom. . .NO, it is more of a here is what I have learned from everything that went on. If someone is cutting they are not bad, not always doing it for attention, don’t want a hall-mark ending, and didn’t tell you because of shame, guilt, fear and such. In the end it was my mom who helped me deal with it, stop, and now be strong enough to talk about it. Without my mom, I would not be here as strong as I am today. . . maybe we never failed but took the harder way to make us stronger.

****Anyway, what brings this all up again is I have found that my Aunt is looking for me again. For a long time I tried to not blame her, to try and stay friends with her, I was silly enough to even invite her to my wedding. But there was a point where I was no longer willing to act like nothing ever happened. I also would not let her blame me for what happened. Or live in denial any longer. So when I got sick of it and would not say it didn’t happen I lost a lot of family. I do still blame myself for my dad and his father not talking.

But she has gotten a hold of me in the past, and I am sure she has looked at this blog. Kind of creeps me out. And as odd and unlogical as it sounds my biggest fear in life is that she is going to try and take my kids away, that is another long psychological debate for later, but still a fear. Even after I have blocked her on everything, facebook, myspace, ect. She was still able to get pictures of my children. It was very upsetting, and why I don’t post anything on here. It is why I am yellow! When my Dad’s dad died my children were listed as his grandchildren and I was mad. . . I was very mad. My children were NOT his great-grand children. But again a rant for another time.



I wish I had some wise words to end on. Like “evil is as evil does” or something ya know. But really all I have is my life to live. I keep going no matter what. I am not damaged because of this, I am just who I am. I guess it is creepy that she is looking me up. But I will just keep doing what I can to move on.