As with many victims of abuse I too had a breaking point.  A point where I could no longer deny that what I had put up with my whole life wasn’t supposed to happen, a point where I knew not only was I being abused but that I needed to leave.

Wether I consciously acknowledged the fact that I was abused or not I truly believe my subconscious knew.  I say this because as I reflect on my past it’s so obvious to me that I tried to escape at every given opportunity.  Which lead me to being engaged to a boy who was all wrong for me at the age of 18. But looking back it makes sense because he was a way out of my life. He was in the military and marrying him meant moving far away from my family.  However it wasn’t long after the engagement that he showed his true colors.  He had cheated on me and my ticket out came to a crashing halt as we called off the engagement. That left me more broken than I care to admit, My self-esteem was nonexistent and I felt isolated and alone.

It’s important to know the events leading up to my breaking point because then hopefully you will understand how completely broken I already was and how easy it was for my father to manipulate me.  I was 19 years old living at home going to community college because I was told by my father to not even bother applying to universities because I wouldn’t be able to get in (I graduate with a 3.75 GPA and the president of multiple clubs and groups at school) and I believed him. My family wasn’t speaking to me and had shunned me because I had gotten engaged in secret and my fiancée had cheated on me.  This was the lowest point in my life and I was craving to be loved.

It was about a month of silence when one day my father came into my room and asked me if I wanted to go to the hangar with him to hangout. I can not explain to you the happiness I felt to be no longer ignored I immediately said yes. When we got to his hanger he cracked open two beers and handed me one. First off I was shocked because this had never happened before and second I absolutely hated beer, but I took it with almost glee that my father was spending time with me. After the beers were done he asked me if I would help him with something , I of course all too willing agreed immediately without asking questions. He stated that the hangers were creating a calendar and he asked if I would pose on the plane for him.  He later stated it was a pin-up calendar and that I needed to be wearing less. After he was done he told me “I’m your father don’t feel weird about this, I’ll always protect you.” He also told me not to tell my step-mom because “she just wouldn’t understand.” This continued for about a month straight each time it getting worse and worse him getting more brave and me getting more broken. He did things no father should ever do to their daughter.  Things that are unforgivable.

I was terrified. Plain and simple I was terrified for this to continue and for how much worse it could get. But I was also terrified of what would happen if I stopped it, my making my father happy I had gotten my family back. They were talking to me again, we had dinners, and we were even planning a family vacation and I was afraid to be isolated again.

So I started avoiding the house. I worked extra shifts, spent a lot of time with my friends, and stayed at the library late studying. When all those attempts to avoid having to go back to the hanger didn’t work I decided to gain weight. I went from a size 4 to an 8 in a matter of months I gained as much weight as I could and it worked he stopped asking me to the hanger but became very strict on my diet and constantly saying how I had let myself go. But I didn’t care I was free. We never talked about what had happened at the hanger we both continued on like it never happened.

I tried to move out and get an apartment with a girlfriend but it was really hard for me. I had lived my whole being told that I would fail on my own, that I could only succeed with my family. When you’re constantly told you’re not good enough you start to believe it. Another way my father controlled me was through money, he had me pay him almost my entire paycheck every month. Even with me working two jobs I would only have a few dollars in my bank account at a time. It wasn’t till about a year and half later I had enough courage to move out.

I can’t express to you the shame and guilt I carried with me for so many years. I blamed myself, I would ask myself how could I let that happen. Why was I willing to do that! I was an adult, why didn’t I just leave. Isn’t it funny how we always ask the victims why they don’t leave? Well I will tell you, because when you are going through abuse you are made to feel like you have no power, no self-esteem, and no other option but to endure it. We don’t leave because we don’t think we can. It wasn’t till many years later when I started seeing a therapist that I have shifted the shame, anger, and guilt from me to where is belonged all along. To my father. I have accepted that I did what I had to, that the fact that I hid it from everyone and continued to live my life was a strength. I also have forgiven myself, you are not an adult at 19 you are still very much a child who wants to believe that her parents will protect her.

My journey has been a long one and to say that it’s easy to get where I am now in my recovery would be a lie. It’s long and hard with a lot of set backs and self-doubt but in the end it’s always worth it.  This has by far been my hardest post because I have held this secret from a lot of people till right now.  Part of my journey is no longer carrying the burden of my secrets. As always thank you all for your love and support through my journey.