hidingmurklins:adr0pinthe0ceanxo: OMFG OMFG OMFG OMFG Is this that book where the kids are lik
hidingmurklins:adr0pinthe0ceanxo: OMFG OMFG OMFG OMFG Is this that book where the kids are like “lol I have a secret”, so they’re all telling their secrets and this one kid is like “my uncle makes us touch eachother” and another kid is like “Dude, I just have this silver trophy hiding in my garage” ? This still haunts me because by the time my mom read me a book like this it was too late. I was already convinced that our stepdad was the only thing standing between us and starving on the streets, so for the survival of my family I denied til I was blue in the face that anyone was touching me, especially him. The longer it took the more scared I was of telling anyone.When my friend’s cousin asked if I was being abused I cried and made them promise not to tell anyone. They didn’t know what to do and kept that secret until the Easter before I turned 16 when I’d finally had enough and told the cops what he was doing to me all those years.My family didn’t believe me, but the court believed me and my friends. I always resented that my family chose him over me, because I had chosen them over myself for all the years I was silent.Then came a time when I was convinced a certain person was grooming my daughter and I begged my mother to help me see clearly but because of our history I couldn’t trust her, and because of my history I couldn’t trust my daughter. I tried to bury those feelings but everything he did was a red flag to me. There was never any proof that he did anything to her, but because of everything else he put us through I lost myself one night and fucked him up so bad I spent a night in jail. He’s far away from us and never coming back, but I’m still haunted by the fact that I might never have proof or reassurance of what he did/n’t do. And it haunts me that my family was willing to let that happen to one of us again. -- source link