*WARNING* Sexual Assault Trigger
Currently, I am dealing with some very difficult circumstances. Perhaps they can be better explained in later posts but, for now, I will only relay what is directly important to the current situation. I used to live in the United States, only moving to Canada the summer before I was to enter 12th grade. We moved because my mother, WL, met a man, ML, online and, after having physically met him "enough" times, decided to marry again. She was working as a home-care nurse, at the time, and was loathe to leave her patient, so she sent my sister and myself ahead. I was 17, my sister, B, was 10, and she sent us to another country to live with a man that we barely knew. I have a theory that it had something to do with DYFS (CAS) being on her tail, but that's a story for another day.
We didn't grow up with fathers. Mine was long gone when I was a baby (not that I necessarily blame him for that) and my sister, she had some contact with hers but not as much as would have been desired. So, when it came to men being fathers to us, we were unsure as to what we should expect from it. This man, our new step-father, was inappropriate, but neither one of us really took that "seriously". What I mean to say by that is, we told our mother about what was making us feel uncomfortable, she said she would speak to him about it, and most of the actions still continued, so we ignored it. What else were we supposed to do?
The actions were innocent seeming enough, I guess. Pulling us onto his lap, hugging us too tight while rubbing our bums, calling us 'sexy', poking fun at our small breast size, trying to kiss us on the lips... Then there are the less-than-innocent actions, like sneaking into the bathroom while I am showering and "pretending" to take a picture over the top railing, even picking open the bathroom lock to get in if I had locked the door. Then there was the not innocent at all action. It was only once but it was enough.
My mother was away in the States, doing her nursing duties for the family she desperately felt a need to be a part of. Maybe it full filled her somehow, I'm not sure. Anyway, she was gone and I literally can not remember where B was at the time. ML asked me to lay down with him. I can't remember the circumstances exactly; I know he was tired and wanted to "cuddle". I agreed. I laid with him, expecting that I would sneak away once he fell asleep. He did fall asleep, rather quickly, and began to "dream." I put that in quotes because only recently had I begun to question it. With his arms wrapped tightly around me, he began to gently touch my nipples over the top of my clothing. His fingers made a small circular motion over the area, all the while mumbling, "My sexy WL." After a bit, maybe about 10 seconds or so, one hand moved to my groin. I was frozen in time. Like a deer in the headlights, I didn't know which direction I wanted to go so I stayed put. He rubbed my vulva over the top of my pants, searching for that certain spot, I'm sure. After about 5 seconds, or so, I finally focused and gently tried to extract myself from his grasp without waking him. I pretended I needed to go to the bathroom so I wouldn't rouse him. As I walked towards the bedroom's washroom, he "awoke" and asked if I was okay.
"Yes. I had to go to the bathroom."
"Oh. Did I do anything? I was having an erotic dream about your mother. I didn't do anything to you, did I?"
Oh, how these words stick with me now, "No."
And I left. Now, I know the comments and questions that arise when a 17 year old girl agrees to lay in bed with any man, however old they may be. I was a broken young woman. A little amateur psychology research has cleared up for me that I was very much an innocent, naive, timid, silenced little girl within. Agreeing to this in no way meant that I wanted what occurred, nor did it mean that I was in any way guilty. Right up until that time, only in my mother's care, I had been beaten with a belt for daring to question her authority. In that, it translates to questioning ANY authority, which made me susceptible. I took his word for it. I didn't question him. I didn't tell my mother. Now, years later, I pretty much slap my forehead and say, "What the fuck happened there?!" I was a little girl, lost and alone, in an almost adult body. I pushed it to the back of my mind until a recent, within the past year, falling out with my mother. Then I only told two people, my husband and my little sister.
This incident is important to what is currently happening. My mother and ML have two young children together; my brother WC, aged 7, and my sister TF, aged 5 (almost 6). It seems that ML is being accused of being sexually inappropriate with his young daughter, TF. Undoubtedly, I will receive backlash about this but I do not feel guilty about it. There was nothing I could have done AT THE TIME. Now, of course, I could say that I should have told my mother, that I should have told someone else. Hindsight is 20/20. Do I feel sick that my youngest sister suffered at his hand? Absolutely. I can not change the past, however. I have done the only thing that I could do in the present time and that is given my testimony to the police on behalf of TF. Two people in the world knew about that incident between ML and myself, and I spilled it to the police without a care.
I was shaking, reliving my childhood and the incident. I almost cried. Such a nice officer, he offered me time to recoup but nothing would have been worse than that. I just needed it out. It's freeing.
I know I am not alone. One in four women and one in six men have experienced sexual assault in their lifetime. 93% of sexual abuse survivors never report it. Report it, please. Teach boys and girls that someone else's body is theirs alone and you do not have automatic rights to it, even if the other person says, "yes."
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