After my parents had separated and divorced it was a very stressful time in my life as a kid. You would think, as a child being 8 and 9 years old, there wouldn’t be stress, it would just be a joyous time in your life. The reality for me, was that I was stressed, and had no out. I was lost. I had a mom and dad who had been torn from me.
With my parents being divorced both my brother and I had two working parents and therefore had various babysitters and people to watch over us while my parents went out and earned money. They did the best they could, they tried their best to provide for both of us and themselves in the process.
What I’m about to share is extremely difficult for me. It is a dark secret which I have kept inside for 30 years or more. There are a few people who do know about it, but not everything.
We had several regular babysitters that would watch us during an evening. My brother and I both hated them. I mean hate. We did all kinds of things in order to make life for them miserable. We never obeyed, and knew they would do nothing about it.
I did have one person who watched over us that I really admired and enjoyed. I am going to call her Jane. (not her real name). Jane was a fun person to be around. She enjoyed being at our house and enjoyed playing games and doing fun stuff with my brother and I.
I always enjoyed Jane being at our house to watch, because I knew that we would always have fun with her and she would enjoy being there. This all changed in my life one evening.
It was very common for older friends of Jane to come to our house and hang out with us, it was really fun time for us. It was fun because we felt older and I felt accepted. They listened to me, they laughed and it was just enjoyable for me. Occasionally Jane would have her boyfriend over, not really sure if he was her boyfriend, but they would sit on the couch together with me and they flirted, even at the age of 9, I knew they liked each other. To this day, I have no idea of that kids name. I can picture him in my head, even as I type this, but his name slips my mind. Sometimes in therapy I think I know his name, yet I can’t remember. Its only been during the past few years in which I have realized that all of these fragmented thoughts I have had over the years was my mind, attempting to put together the incident.
I remember sitting on the couch, just the three of us, and Jane and him were touching and kissing on each other a little bit. I remember her hugging me and asking me if I was ok. I felt uncomfortable, but I didn’t want the relationship to be gone, it was really the only type of acceptance I had at the time.
At one point during the time, Jane began to rub my leg and my penis with her hand, which gave me an erection. I remember her touching me a lot. I also remember her telling me it was ok. It was a normal thing to happen. I remember the guy who was there had his penis out and Jane began to rub it with her hand. At 9 years old, I was devastated at what I was witnessing and involved with, but I was scared. My heart raced and I wanted to cry. I didn’t want to lose Jane as my sitter, and didn’t want her to be made at me for not wanting to be there in that moment. I sat there, crying inside, fearful, and worried. They said it was normal and that this is normal for older kids, and they were helping me learn. I was scared, but did as they told me.
I don’t want to recount and go into the graphic details of that event, but that was the first night that I was sexually abused by people I thought loved me. I thought at the time they cared for, and loved me enough to help me along and be my friend. Years have gone by until I realized that was not the case. They took my life from me, so much so that it has affected every aspect of my life to this date, including my marriage. I have had to stop and walk away a few times in writing this. Its difficult for me to share with the world what I have gone through and who I really am.
Michael's Story 