It took me a while to get the courage to be able to talk about this because as hard as it for me to talk about it, as much time as it took for me to realise what I had endured.
I have been abused, I was ten at that time so I didn’t know what I had gone through and didn’t know that it was wrong. It felt wrong, very wrong but I was just a child at the time so I thought it was just an illusion and never mentioned anything to my parents till this day. Maybe it’s because I couldn’t admitted to myself, or maybe it was because I did not want them to suffer… like I did.
It was 7 years ago. I fell in a hole so I had scrapped all my thigh so I had to disinfected urgently, before it turned into an infection. Luckily in the play ground their was a nursery who had a first aid kit and a doctor in case someone gets hurt. My friend carried me until there and left me in the room with the doctor who asked me to lift up my skirt so he could see my flesh-wound. It was big, my whole thigh was bleeding so he asked to lay down and told me he would be putting antibiotic cream on it, to prevent an infection. I laid down as he said, as he started massaging my thigh. I felt very uncomfortable but as I said I was ten and I told myself that he’s a doctor and he’s only healing me. My friend came in and asked me why was he rubbing my leg this much but he looked at her crookedly and I ignored her comment because again I was just ten at the time. But slowly slowly, his hand would go higher and higher and he would ‘rub’ my upper thigh and then he started discretely fingering me.
I was feeling more and more uncomfortable and ashamed but I was only a child and did not realise what was truly going on. I felt it was wrong, but why was it? I couldn’t understand I mean, a ten year old child isn’t supposed to go through this right, so how could’ve I known that it was wrong?
I went on and ignored the incident and went back to my mother as if nothing happened inappropriate had happened. It’s only a few years later, with horror and disgust that I understood what had happened to me : I was child abused and could not do anything to change it. I realised with agony why this incident had had such a huge impact on me, why I kept on having nightmares about it, and why my subconscious had decided to keep it all in. Nonetheless, I kept all in, and only cried about it when nobody could see me. I was ashamed and afraid to talk about it, I wanted to erase everything, but how could I forget? How? I could not ignore what had happened and I had to deal with it. So I remained silent until today. For many years I was convinced it was my fault, I was convinced that I should’ve done something about it, that I should’ve stood up and told him not to touch me. I couldn’t tell anyone, I couldn’t hide my shame and felt like a part of me had died… my innocence. He was in his forties, I had just turned ten.
Seven years have passed, so why talk today? Why not before? Because many women have been through this too and I felt the urge to let it all out, all at once, to remove this heavy burden off my shoulders because I deserve to be happy.
If women who have been raped had the courage to talk about it, so do I.
I hope that nobody goes through this horrible experience, but if some of you do, I hope you fight the person back as soon as you feel like something is wrong. I hope that other children get enough empowerment to stand up and say no. I hope you, you have endured this horrendous act, talk about it, because though I got two panic attacks and shed many tears, writing all of this down has definitely made me happier and finally come at ease with my past.
I’m no longer a victim, I’m a survivor.
Dedicating this to the young child who noticed the abuse, D.A. I love you, always.