Black Women Who Survive Rape

The first time I was sexually assaulted was at the age of five. It was by my neighbors. It happened so fast that I cannot begin to remember when my abuse actually started. They were sneaky. They would sit on their front porch and watch me. I thought it was weird at first but they never spoke to me. They would just wave or smile. In the back of my mind, it felt weird but a wave and smile seemed harmless. They were patient went it came to me. I guess it is why they are called sexual predators.

At first, they would not engage. They would come to family events and then ignore me. They would speak to everyone in the house but then pretend like they did not see me. They did this for a while to the point it hurt my feelings. I would always think that there was something wrong with me. I wanted their attention because deep down did not get positive attention at home. They knew this as well because they saw how others in my family would act towards me.

Finally, one day when my mother was out with friends, my aunts, and uncles were in the house they finally came out on the porch. They looked around to see if anyone would join me but no one ever did. They started their grooming process. First, it was little things here and there like go get me this from the house or ask my family if they could come over for dinner. They were seeing if I would follow their instructions without any restrictions. They were friends of the family so I did not think anything of it. Until one day they invited me over to their house.

They both took their turns molesting me. It happened so quickly that I did not know what was going on. I knew I did not like it but they enjoyed it. It hurt and it was uncomfortable. I felt different and more mature. Before I could tell anyone about it they threatened to tell my mother. I did not want her to know. I did not want her to get angry at me for being so stupid. I knew she would have yelled at me for going over there and would have embarrassed me in front of the rest of the family. So I kept it hidden. For almost twenty years I did not tell anyone because I knew there would not be any sympathy. Even as a young girl I knew there was not any protection for the little black girl.

I tell this story with pain still in my heart because in my silence I let my abusers go free. It saddens me to know how many times or how many little girls after me there were. I still take on the blame even though it was not my fault. That is the main thing with abuse is it silences the victim. For many years after my sexual assault which lasted for a few years, I was numb. I did not know how to interact with friends or be a little girl anymore. I wish I could say that was the last time it happened but it was not. Once I became a victim I attracted more abusers and more victims. Sometimes my own friends as children were the ones who sexual assaulted me. I learned at a young age to please people with my body. This will make a person my friend. It was the wrong way to think but when those things happen to a child it's all child knows.

To all the carefree little girls with a light so bright, I am here to let you know it gets better. I learned to control my emotions, to center my rage with advocacy, and how to give my body the right way to a man. It took years to finally get to this point. It took a lot of therapy and self-healing. Some days I just cry for the little girl that never got to. Even in my adult years I still have moments of sadness and rage but again I thank the Most High for my story. I was strong enough to go through the pain. I was capable of sharing my abuse story with you all so others around me could heal too.
Trust me I know how hard it gets to put the past behind. It sometimes seems damn near impossible. I moved from the city that reminds me of my trauma. I no longer surround my energy with people who abused me. A person cannot heal with people who caused them the pain. It takes time to self-reflect and not self-destruct. People saw my pain as something to laugh at in the end. I saw my pain as something to be ashamed of in the beginning. The Most High saw my pain as the reason for my existence. I am here to help heal black women. I am here to assist in healing of the world with my many stories.

Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your healing journey. May you find nothing but peace and prosperity after all the work is done.