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Choices and decisions were foreign words to me
until I was about forty-six years old. Actually, I truly never knew
I had a choice. It was when my counselor looked at me with eyes of
concern and said, "Sharon, some of these things you will need to
make the choice to accept." In that moment I saw myself as an
angry person. Angry because so much had been taken away from me that
I had no choice in, but I realized that I could choose whether or
not to live the rest of my life being angry or not.
Yes, I was molesed, sexually abused. First by my dad, then by a
friend of our family that I adored, that was followed by a man who
rented a room from my mother, and not long after that, my uncle
decided he wanted to venture between my legs. Somewhere in the midst
of all of that one of my cousins dropped by to visit my sister, and
when he discovered that no one was at home, well, he went further
than anyone else had gone. Then came Gene and Johnny, two teenagers
my sister asked to "watch" me while she went off with her boyfriend.
No, they didn't have sex, they just molested me while they...well,
you know. And, last, but certainly not least, came the triplets, who
never did anything, but claimed they did. All of this before I was
ten.
The man that rented a room from my mom meant the world to me. He
was my friend. He took care of me for a very, very long time. I had
asthma. That's how everything started. When I would have trouble
breathing before I went to sleep, he would rub my back until I feel
asleep. Well, he just got carried away I guess. Eventually, I think
I actually looked forward to him coming into my room, but I always
pretended to be asleep. I was afraid he would come and afraid he
wouldn't come.
I was going to church at the time and I would walk the aisle
every Sunday and rededicate my life. I felt dirty and afraid that
God wouldn't love me because of what was happening to me. I felt it
was all my fault. I just knew I was a very bad girl or men wouldn't
touch me there. For some reason I must be just bad!
My mother had this special friend that I adored and she adored
me. One weekend mother took me to her house. She and her husband
treated me like a porcelan doll. When I went across the street to
play with one of the neighborhood friends, for some reason I broke
down and told her about what was happening in my house. I told her
that I wanted to live with Flo because I knew that there I would be
treated nice and the abuse would stop. Well, I'm sure you can
imagine what happened next.
Flo called my mother and had her come pick me up. I never saw Flo
again. She thought I was lying and was a very bad girl! Mother got
mad at me because it messed up her weekend. So, nothing was done or
said to Pee Wee, the man. It just continued on and on. Until
finally, he was arrested for peeping into a woman's window and I
never saw him again.
That pretty much ended the childhood sexual abuse phase of my
life. Unfortunately, when I became a teenager I began to learn all
about date rape and gang rape and that was very, very ugly. I still
felt like a bad girl. There was no since in my studying hard. I knew
that life held nothing for me because I was a nothing. My mother
told me I would amount to nothing and I believed her.
Do I blame her for all of this now? Absolutely not...but I did
then and I did for many, many years. For the continuation of this
story...click here.
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