The decision to move in with my father at the age of 12, was my own. My mom had 8 children all together , including me. We struggled every day. Many times we went without electric, running water and even food. She did her best. I can not even imagine how hard it was for her. School was hell. It was literally like a living hell. I was tortured. Although I was a great student, I still dreaded school every day. I was picked on relentlessly. Other kids took for granted things I wish I had. Even simple things like deodorant and clean clothes.
My father had only his wife and their child. When he suddenly showed up out of the blue and showed an interest in me, I saw a way out. I hate myself for being such a greedy, selfish child and abandoning my mom and siblings for what I thought would be a better life. But I was desperate. I thought my father loved me... Many people ask why I didn't tell someone or go back to my mom. The answer: I was ashamed. I felt it was what I deserved after choosing my father over a mom who had loved me, protected me and took care of me all of my life. That is the thought process of a 12 year old child. My mom only knew my father drank on occasion. She had no idea he was a monster. Here is part 2 of Inside My Pain....
My step mother was jealous of me.
Now, I didn't realize that at the time. There is just no way a child's mind could comprehend or understand that.
She viewed me as competition for my father's love and womanly affection. I see that now. As an adult, I'm able to grasp things I just never could as a young girl.
She knew things I didn't and never even tried to protect me from what was to come. She could've. She just didn't care about me enough to do it. I wasn't her child. I was the spawn of another woman and her demonic husband.
She wanted me gone. She gloried in my pain and suffering. She would come to me and discuss my father as if I were a grown woman. Telling me things that would forever scar my young mind.
My father didn't view me as his daughter. To him, I was a conquest. A prize to be broken and conquered. One that would be won at any cost. Even the cost of my childhood. The cost of my innocence. The cost of my trust. The cost of my faith in men.
And it was a price I alone would have to pay for the rest of my life.
My tears and pain never once stopped my father from abusing me. Even when I attempted to take my own life at the age of 14, he convinced everyone that I was "messed up in the head". As I recovered in the hospital, my father never once visited me. My teacher from school did. The night I came home, he slapped me and raped me.
He would always promise me that if I didn't tell, he'd take me back to my mom.. And I believed him. When I realized he had no intention of returning me, he told me my mom wouldn't want me because I was a nasty whore.
It took me nearly four years of unimaginable abuse at the hands of my father before I finally confided in my teacher that my father was raping me.
She alerted authorities and I was whisked away by my loving uncle, back to the arms of my mom. Who welcomed me back home without any hesitation.
For many years, I was terrified I'd somehow end up being an evil monster like my father. I didn't want to be him. I couldn't be him. I wanted to be better. I couldn't allow his abuse to turn me into a person like him. So I didn't. I share my story because I hope it will help others. Maybe even you...