When your abuser is your father it can sometimes be difficult to understand what is normal and what isn’t because it is all you ever know. I remember the first time I realized what was happening to me wasn’t normal. I was about 12 years old still young enough to be impressionable and believe that my father wanted best for me but old enough to comprehend that what was happening wasn’t right.  All my life (from my youngest memory to when I left at the age of 20) I was forced to take naps with my father, give him massages, “rough house” with him that would leave me badly bruised and so much more which at the time I never thought anything of it because it’s all I ever knew.

When I was 12 all that changed. I was in the car with my dad and little sister and I had made an innocent bet with my dad where if I won he would buy me a cat. When I won however he said that it didn’t count because I didn’t offer him anything. When I asked what he wanted he said that he wanted to take pictures of me. Me wanting to be the “good daughter” I of course said yes. As we pulled into the driveway he laughed it off but when a couple of hours later my  little sister and mom went to the grocery store he came into my room and said he wanted to take the pictures.  I of course not wanting to say no to my father again said “sure”.  He then took me to his bathroom and pulled out his playboy and told me to pose like the girls in the magazine. He told me to take off my clothes as he pulled out his camera and started taking photos. I remember my body going through the motions but my mind being numb almost like I was watching it happen to someone else all the while my father reassuring me he loved me.  I was so shocked by what was happening that I wasn’t able to process  it and that memory became a repressed memory that I had locked away to protect myself. My mind couldn’t process that the man who asked me to pose for him, made me take naps and be his little spoon was the same man who took me flying and out for milkshakes. I was groomed my whole life to never say no to him, making him happy was all I ever wanted.  It was about a year after I left home as I laid down to go to sleep next to my boyfriend that this memory came flooding back.  I now remember that moment so vividly and I get so angry at the man for taking advantage of his daughter who was still so innocent and wanted nothing more to please her father.  He had all the power in the relationship and he chose to misuse his power. As time goes on I have realized I am not to blame for what has happened to me.  I used to carry such shame about what I did.  I used to think I did this, I said yes, I should have know better.  But what I have come to realize is that it had absolutely nothing to do with me. Now instead of shame I am proud.  I am proud of the strength that I had to create a beautiful life beyond the abuse. I am proud of the 12-year-old version of me who did what she had to do to survive. Who experienced that and went to school the next day with a smile on her face and played with her friends.

I am definitely far from being healed and not having the abuse affect me in my day-to-day life but I have definitely come a long way and I have finally shifted the blame from me to where it should have been all along, on him.

As always thank you for the love and support as I share my journey.

 

The funny thing about life is no one really knows what is happening in someone else’s life. It might sound corny but you really can’t know what happens behind closed doors. Take me for example if you were to ask any of my friends or family if I was abused they would say there is no chance. I’m the happiest person they know, the friendliest, the most kind. Like all of those things means that I couldn’t possibly have gone through abuse. My favorite is when I finally do open up to someone and discuss my past they say “but you’re so normal” like because I have kept my shit together means that what I went through couldn’t have been that bad. That was something I myself struggled with for a very long time. That me being strong enough to continue to push through and maintain a life of normalcy didn’t diminish what I went through. I was lucky, its honestly that simple my mind protected me. My mind split the two versions of myself and walled them off. There was the girl who went home and was abused and made to pose for photos (we will get to that later) and the girl who went to school, hung out with friends and was carefree. That is how I was able to be normal, that is how I was able to keep my spirit because to me those were two very different girls and they never blurred together. As an adult it’s still a struggle I have to take that wall down between those two girls. But hey that’s whats my therapist is for!

I want to say that I know I was lucky, that my mind saved me. I want to say that because my whole purpose of doing this blog is to empower others and to regain my strength. I hid behind my smile for so long and was so ashamed of my story that it became this deep dark secret that held so much weight. I have started to heal and to forgive myself and with that I want to share my story to lessen the burden and realize that my past may not define me but is a part of me. I have decided to be proud of my strength and my resilience instead of hide it. If by sharing my story I can help someone else realize they are not alone and offer some kind encouragement to speak up and ask for help then this would have all been worth it. I also want to say if I have decided to share my blog with my friends and family and you are reading this please know that you weren’t supposed to have known and there was nothing you could have done. I hid this my entire life and from everyone even myself and as always thank you for your love and support.