Talking about sexual molestation and rape is not easy. But I am striving to change the stigma by sharing my own story and the journey. #NoMoreShame
I remember my first vivid memory of what I know now to be abuse and neglect. Those who are supposed to love and protect you are actually your abusers. My uncle used to put beer in my baby bottle. I remember him and his friends laughing as I ran around drinking beer. I was so young and so innocent. Even though I didn’t know what was right or wrong. Instinctively I sensed an uncomfortable feeling as I became older. Why do cruel people like this exist in this world I ask myself!
I do remember a point in time where I was very close to my uncle. It saddens me to know now that the reason was not because of love. He was is a sick individual and even though we are biologically related. He is not welcomed in my home or anywhere in my vicinity. Luckily, when I was placed in a foster home. I was saved from him and his sickening ways or so I though… I will write in a later post about my last encounter with him when I was 17 years old.
A very young child who is exposed to molestation will automatically perceive this type of sickening “action” as love. This happened to me and yes I am very angry. But I want to move on from the damaging internal feelings I have inside me. I have 36 years of long lasting effects on my mental and emotional health. I am at a point in my life where I so VERY strongly want to help others. The only way I can truly do that is by beginning with myself. Mentally and emotionally I can’t be strong and supportive for anyone, if I can’t be strong for myself. This is why I am on this journey to find myself and to be a better and healthier me.
Now as an adult knowing what happened has given me a purpose and passion in life. It bothers me knowing there are other’s like me out there. I cannot be silenced and I will be a VOICE! I know exactly what it feels like to keep everything bottled up inside and never tell a soul. This is honestly to much for anyone to handle alone. I chose to keep it a secret, I chose not to talk about it and I chose to try and ignore it. Why? Because the trauma is to much. Plain and simple.
Yes, it is possible to ignore it and you think you’re living life because you’ve buried it deep down inside. I am being very genuine when I say, I was not living my life to the fullest. There is always something inside that doesn’t feel right and eventually it manifests itself into many different things. It may become anger, guilt, shame, social anxiety, neediness, alcoholism, drug addiction, gambler, promiscuity and becoming an introvert. There’s nothing wrong with being an introvert unless it keeps you from having genuine relationships or friendships. It changes the person you were meant to be in this life.
Remember I am still going through this journey myself, right at this very moment. The difference now is that I want to fight these feelings and emotions. I’m ready to fight!
If you’ve been sexually abused or molested in anyway that makes you feel uncomfortable. Please tell someone!
My name is Petra and I am on a mission to help other woman by sharing my story. I will not hide in shame. I am tearing off the band-aid and unlocking the pain that’s deep down inside. My childhood years were full of abuse; mental, emotional, verbal, physical and sexual. I have very rarely spoke in depth of this part of my life.
It was NOT my fault and I am NOT ashamed anymore!
Today, I free myself of all the pain I kept locked inside. This pain changed my personality for a long 36 years.
I was angry, took everything personally, I had no personality, didn’t’ know how to joke around and smiling or laughing felt “awkward” to me.
What makes me smile today? My two boys, my fiance, my friends, my family and YOU! Yes, you reading this right now. I smile because you’re here, you’re strong and you’re amazing.
The happiest and only good memory was when I was about 4 years old. I remember living in Texas and being at my grandmothers house. She bought me this beautiful dress that every little Mexican girl wanted. I ran around in it, showing it off to everyone, skipping and dancing around in circles.
(This is the only picture I have of me as a child)
After that it seems like the world changed. I remember going to the park to play. Shortly after that we took my sister to her grandmother’s house; on her father’s side. We dropped her off but I didn’t understand why we couldn’t stay too. My sister’s grandmother seemed like a very sweet lady and inviting. Our biological mother had a way of making us feel like we didn’t “belong”. Nothing was ever explained.