I was 18 years old during the summer of 2009. My family and I were off to Disneyland for a week-long vacation. I had a lot of fun throughout the week until the very last night. I was on my way to the hotel room after having a smoke. I had just come out of the elevator when someone approached me. He was wearing a solid white cook uniform and he rushed up to me to ask if I wanted to drink that night. I figured I might as well get drunk since it is the last night.
It is International Day of the Girl Child at the time of me writing this, and I’ve been taking some time to reflect on what this means to me personally. These days, I feel like there is this tendency to create a day and bring awareness to issues-yet there doesn’t seem to be much change happening in recognition of these days or follow up on these initiatives. This year, it’ll be 25 years from the adoption of the Beijing Declaration and Platform for Action — the global agenda for advancing the rights and empowerment of women and girls, everywhere. Earlier this year, Generation Equality was also launched as a multi-year, multi-partner campaign and movement for bold action on gender equality. While these resolutions and big drivers for change are great ideas, I’m extremely doubtful that any real adjustment will actually be made.
November of 2008, Thanksgiving day rolled around, which also happened to be my 18th birthday. No party. No special plans. No company even. My friends were away with family for the holiday. Dinner at my house wasn’t anything too special. I finished my plate of the typical, traditional food, and locked myself in my bedroom for the night.
Trigger Warning: This story contains contents that may trigger others from past trauma.
To be vulnerable is to trust and trusting others is my weakest spot of my heart. However, in time life has changed me in ways that help my experience become more 'explainable.'
I was a little girl who just wanted her mother's love, but instead I got blamed and hated. Here's my story! My mother brother and I moved to Averill Ave in a small town a long with her 2 other sisters and their children .We all went to number 15 school I was 5 when we moved there, As a child we were always told that children should not be seen when their adults in the room we were taught to respect all Elders, but what happens when a adult miss treat a child and nothing was done about it, but you were told that you are a lair and all you did was go to bed like you were told. While I am laying in my bed I had a nightmare about rats and in my dream their were nothing but blood all over my room, their was a big fat rat sitting on my chest, once I realize what was happening I started screaming and crying for my mom to come I kept calling for her but no one answered I called out for her again and again just to be woken up by her boyfriend Bosco. When Bosco entered my room he had on just his boxers and no shirt .With his boney little legs and arms I wish I was much older but at that time I was just a little girl looking for my mother and she was no where to be found. When Bosco entered my room he said, "What's wrong with you? Why are you in screaming! I said," I had a bad dream" and I want my mom! he said" your momma not here she left now shut all that noise up before I give you something to scream about "I was scared but I'm still crying for my mom and she wasn't there! While I'm still crying Bosco walks over to where I was laying and got in my bed I didn't know what to do I thought it was ok because he was grown and I was told to respect my elders so I thought letting Bosco in my bed was the right thing to do ,but then he started touching me in places he wasn't suppose to because it hurt, he had long fingers nails that he would put inside of my 5 year old vagina. My mother then walks in and catches Bosco in my bed and ask him "What are you doing? He got smart with my mom and got up and went back in my mother room ,my mother left to go next door and I got up and ran after her ,but when I got there, I over heard my mother telling my Aunt that she caught me in the bed with Bosco, Not I found Bosco in the bed with my child! She did ABSOLUTELY nothing but blame me, nobody cared enough about me instead I grew up being hated for something I had no control over ,Now I'm grown and hate PEDOPHILES.I have buried this for so long today is the first time I spoke on this I hope you guys liked this story because this was hard to write but I want to heal and my healing starts today I hope this touches someone who may be going thru the same thing and know you are not alone and please tell someone thanks for hearing my story.
I want to share a story of my first sexual experience. It serves for me as catharsis. I also hope to give gentle cautionary advice. My goal is for people to find courage when they're afraid to speak. This tale begins long ago in my life and comes full circle in the current era.
When I was a freshman in high school, all the girls in their ninth-grade gym classes were taught self-defense should they ever come in contact with a predator one day. I was informed that one in four girls are sexually abused or raped by the age of eighteen. Back then I knew deep down in my heart that one day I'd be that one put of four girls. I was right. I hate being right.