Dedication: Sarah my best friend who helped me love my self.
Trigger warning: Before reading this post, please be aware that it includes descriptions of childhood sexual assault and abuse.
It happened in June of 2016. At the moment I was depressed because of boy. At the time I was an 12 year old just learning about my body and hormones. I would drink alcohol because of the “scar the boy had left me in my soul”. My mental health was worsening as days went by. On an afternoon, after eating, I went to take a nap with my grandfather. I never really enjoyed sleeping next to my grandfather, he was stronger and was too touchy for my comfort. I agreed and fell asleep with my grandmother In one side and my grandfather on the other. When I woke up my grandmother left so I moved away from him. He then started being to grabby making me uncomfortable. He was hugging me when I slept. When I woke up his hand was inside my shorts on the back of my butt. I shoved him away but he said it was fine. Nothing was going to happen to me. I uncomfortably fell asleep. When I woke up he was grabbing it and getting closer to my parts. I told him no but he said to trust him. After all he was my grandfather, he was the man I would call father at times. I hesitated but let him. I then tried falling asleep but couldn’t. He thought I was asleep so he moved his fingers to my vulva and rubbing it. By then I pushed him and moved away. I was startled and scared. He then said that he accidentally fell asleep and moved it too far. I tried complaining but he threatened me of telling my grandmother that I did it so I shut up and went back to bed. I was in bed and he put my hand on my stomach now and moved his hand way too close to my breast so tried moving it. But it slipped and he said he was just seeing if I had something. I didn’t know so I let him. He then rubbed his fingers in my breast and I moved. He said to trust him, so I did. I didn’t know why I let him, I was naive and young, and I thought that maybe he could help me stop thinking of my depression and my suicidal thoughts, but I was wrong. He stopped and moved to the other side. I did too and stayed there in fear. I fell asleep and woke up with him touching me through the front of my shorts. He was stimulating me and with his other hand he had already picked up my shirt and my bra. He kept on saying to trust him. I didn’t know what to do so I didn’t move. He kept on touching me. When he stopped I thought it was over. But he then started to put his mouth in my breast. That’s when I had enough. I moved and pushed him. He then said that i couldn’t tell anybody or i would destroy my family and he would go to jail. He would say it with a face making me feel pity and shut up. My grandmother came in and turned the tv on. After that my depression got even worse. I tried killing myself many times after that and in school scored poorly. I would always hear my friends say that her grandpa would take her to fish or things like that making me feel sad why he wasn’t like that. And every time I would give him a chance to be normal he would start touching me inappropriately. Even in front of people he would say to sit on his lap. And when I did he would start touching my thighs or when he hugged me he moved his arms towards my breast. And i started hating hugs and people touching me or getting to close to me. I started hurting my friends when they would get to close and I never told them. He then treated me for a whole year. Saying the same thing s different ways. I would cry and feel a disgust for my body. I gained weight and would cry but pretend to be happy for no one to suspect. I didn’t know what to do anymore. Until I told him that if he didn’t stop i would tell my grandma. And obviously he continued harassing me. Even after he “stopped” I would drink till I black out. I started seeking other ways to stop my pain. The nightmares and anxiety I started having didn’t help. School, and pressure made me stressed and have headaches. I stopped eating and i lost all intrest in things I loved. Sports, running, reading, and hobbies I had. My family never noticed, I wouldn’t sleep because I cried or tried to find ways to cope with it. After half a year I hadn’t changed my drinking habits, cursing, and not caring. It got to a point I was a bitch. Someone mena and disliked. I would hurt the people that I loved physically and emotionally. Then I went back to school and got into a class of art. I always thought I was the worst but I was good at it. I started painting. I would paint what I felt and even though it was a mess I liked it. I was still depressed but dealing. I then started reading and writing stories and getting my everyday hobbies back. I felt great and I couldn’t believe how one friend in particular helped me much, my friend Sarah. She helped me through much helping me and saying that I mattered. Even though I still have low self esteem, depression, and problems with my body I try being a better person. I try helping people. I try to be the best version of my self, without my thoughts eating me alive. I still need help and support. But over time I try forgetting. I stopped drinking and stoped eating junk food to get my body shape back. I still blame myslef and feel afraid of telling people in fear of them getting disgusted of me. But I still cope and I’m here alive and breathing. Harrasment is something I don’t like tlaking about. And that woman should shut up and be a mistress in distress. We need to show how powerful we can be and should stay away from toxic relationships. It’s for the best. And I really hope no girl or teen or woman ever has to go though such pain. And a lifetime of self blame.