Lauren's Kids

4/23/12

I am Lauren’s cousin. I have never told my story. Not because I was ashamed. But because, up until the last few years, I didn’t believe that my abuser, or the abuse he wielded over me as a child, affected who I am today. I thought I was one of the lucky ones who was strong enough to “deal” with it, without scars. I was wrong. So wrong.

I was 9 years old. An awkward, overweight, people-pleasing elementary school student. Academic overachiever. Socially inadequate. He was the older brother of my best friend. He was also our babysitter. What started off as an “innocent” game of hide and seek became the way he made time to be alone with me. To hide in dark closets and bathtubs and behind locked doors. At the same time I was innocently learning “where babies come from”, I was walking around school, convinced I had “made a baby” and too ashamed to tell anyone.

These are the lessons my abuser taught me~ that people (especially men) are not to be trusted, that the most valuable thing I had to offer was my body (which I hated, anyway), that no one and nowhere constituted a “safe place”, and that I am helpless and unlovable. To this day, there are triggers that take me right back…my mother’s hairbrush, the smell of Elmer’s glue…all elements much too graphic to speak about.

I have spent a lifetime in therapy, for this and other issues that shaped my life. I have come a very long way in healing. But, I have discovered that my scars are not only real, but at times, not very well hidden. While I am a very mild mannered person, not easily angered, if I pass by someone who resembles my abuser (even though I know he in no longer alive), I shake, and feel a rage that is both unfamiliar and terrifying. When I hear stories in the media about children being abused, in ANY way, I can feel the fury in my blood. The anger and hurt is palpable. I have never thought myself capable of inflicting harm on another person. In fact, I am a nurse. A hand-holder. A healer. But, show me a child who has been physically harmed by anyone, and well…there is a reason why I would never own a firearm.

Why tell my story now, at 46 years old? Because, every time I see Lauren’s name, her book, a sign or a media event, I am reminded that we are related, not just by blood, but by a bond no one should share. I wish that someone would have told me that it was “Okay to Tell”. That I wouldn’t have been judged, but protected. I want people to know that the victims of abuse come from all walks of life, all kinds of families, and no one is immune. There are only a handful of people who know what happened to me as a child. Those who don’t know will, most likely, be shocked. I am the face that gives comfort, hugs, support, encouragement, advice, love. I AM THE FACE OF SEXUAL ABUSE.

4/22/12

Up until this past February, I had no hope that my life would ever change. I never thought that I would ever be able to let someone in, and I never believed that I would be believed and offered help to stop the abuse. It was a poster positioned right accross from the toilet in a bathroom at an E.R. in Broward County about speaking out about domestic violence.

Then, when the nurse came to my room and asked me general questions about my health and one of them was “Do you feel safe at home, or are you being abused in any way?” the flood gates behind my eyes gave way. All my built-up tears that I had minimized and taught myself to forget about for so many years poured down my face and neck I couldn’t stop it. I tried. She put her hand on my shoulder, and told me it was ok to let someone know, that there were people who WANTED to help.

My first reaction was that nobody could help me. I WAS OWNED, I WAS A POSSESSION, A PLAY THING. Right now, two months later, I am almost positive I that I own myself and I am worth more than the life I lived.

The case turned federal, considered a child exploitation case. It’s more serious than I thought. At seven years old, my dad took my virginity and my innocence, and then over and over following until I was 10, when I was sold to a man in New Jersey for the purpose of prostitution. At 12, I was traded and went to a man in New York City. I remained under lock and key with him until February, when I was transported from that ER to a domestic violence safehouse in Deerfield Beach, called Women in Distress.

At the end of March, I moved to transitional living in West Palm, where I now have six months to collect my thoughts, get counseling, follow up with legal proceedings and develop and stengthen the woman in me who is beautiful, courageous, strong, meaningful and MY OWN PERSON.

At 22 years old, I haven’t experienced all the stuff other young women my age have because of the lifestyle and conditions I was in, because of the abuse. My life starts today, it can be anything I want it to be. I can do or be anything anything I want. I am free!

Thank you Palm Beach County Victim Services and my advocate, Sandra. They were there when everyone else pretended they didnt see what was happening to me, or pretended not to know about it. Because of them, NOW I HAVE THAT HOPE!

4/17/12

My grandfather was my favorite person in the whole world. I was four and “his little red-head.”"He takes her everywhere with him,” people would say. He did. He worked for the state of Illinois agricultural department and would take me out in the country and molest me. I was so very young and I remember both of my grandparents warning me about the man next door…”He does bad things to little girls,” and the whole time Grandpa was touching me. He told me that this was our special secret and to never tell anyone. I loved him then so I didn’t.

When I was older, around 10 , my grandparents came to live with us and the touching began again. One day while my parents were both at work, my grandmother announced that she was going to the store. She had not pulled out of the driveway when grandpa pulled me into their bedroom and this time attempted to penatrate me with his penis. My grandmother must have suspected something because she came home and broke in on us. My grandpa left the room without uttering a word, but my grandma told me that if I ever said anything to my parents that she would tell them that it was my fault, so I never spoke a word.

After that, my grandpa had little use for me, which broke my heart.

I have a younger sister. We are four years apart in age and my grandpa would give her candy and play with her, but not me. One day, I walked in to see him trying to put his hand down my sisters panties. I went and got my father’s gun, and would have most likely shot him if my father had not kept the gun empty while it was in the house.

My sister and I ran to my parents bedroom and cried in each others’ arms. We never told anyone and even buried talking about it with one another until recently. We are now both in our 50′s and have both had relationship issues. I never felt free from the guilt I felt until she and I sat up late one night and talked it through.

Speak out, tell your story, seek help……and if someone comes to you with their story, LISTEN. Thank you for listening to mine.

4/17/12

I just finished Lauren’s book, and the timing is almost scary. I was molested from the time I was 11 to 13 (so end of fifth grade, which was early 2002 until the end of seventh grade in late may of 2004). I was homeschooled for eighth grade because public school was “making me” aggressive, anti-social, self-conscious, and my straight A’s slipped to unacceptable B’s & C’s (all this according to my parents). Unlike Lauren, I didn’t tell my family…there was, and is, a lot of turmoil in the house that prevents it…there is a lot of instability, and I don’t feel I can add to it for them.

My freshman year in high school, I was sexually assaulted by the boy I had been dating, and once again my world was rocked. In middle school, other than controlling my intake of food and losing 30 lbs., I had begun cutting (on my shoulder with a safety pin, so not noticeable in FL). After this boy began physically, emotionally, and sexually abusing me, these things only intensified. I was new at my Catholic high school (2 years of public middle school and suddenly I can’t fit with the people I used to know..I’m…”different”…for lack of a better word). I was in NJROTC program (at dad’s insistence), and even though that boy was in it too, the only two people to notice a change were also in that unit. My best friend and a guy friend were my support system, but I didn’t tell them about middle school. In a lot of ways, they saved me from myself. That guy friend and I are 21 now and married, and my best friend is still just that, but because of physical abuse in her home, we opened up more to each other as time went on…we needed each other.

After high school, I began FSU in fall of 2009 with my now husband. That spring, when Lauren’s first inaugural walk wet on, I was in a final so close to the capitol building that I could hear some of the speeches when the wind blew right. We had been getting emails for so long about it, but I had blown it off. I rushed through my final and tried to make it over before it all had ended…still in my car (waiting on that darn Tallahassee rain), I drove as close as TPD would allow and kind-of just sat there and felt relieved that I could take this all in alone.

I went home and was supposed to have a dinner date with “My Man” (the name he put in my phone for himself to make me smile one day after revealing my past…and I haven’t changed it)…well…I got to our apartment and just sat quietly. He knew something was up, and asked if it was about middle school of the boy from freshman year. “Yes” was all I could say in a bewildered tone. He sat with me and just held me, and the more he did that, the more came out of my mouth. That night was the first night I slept through the night, and he (with his own blanket) slept next to me. You see, we shared a 2/2 because my father is over-protective, fearing that the stereotypical creepy guy in his 50′s will attack me..but we each had our own bedroom. We could’ve easily had one…except one thing…I couldn’t fall asleep with him in the room, and if I did, I woke up in a massive panic thinking he was going to do something. After that night, as long as he had his own blanket, I would let him hold me at night, especially when the nightmares got bad…as a psychology and criminology double-major, it was hard to hear my story sooo many times a semester and still feel so helpless.

I should have pushed harder to report my abuse – I tried once and was accused by the 7th grade administrator that I was just trying to sully an athlete’s reputation…I couldn’t have cared less about it. I take full responsibility and certainly feel it for any victim after me. I could have and should have prevented this. For the boy in high school, I wish I could have communicated my fears and drawn better boundaries (I don’t know if it would’ve actually helped, but I feel guilt for not trying). I am no longer angry for what was done. I see that I am meant to be a teacher, and to be the advocate I wanted so badly, and have begun by being a victim advocate at UNF where I feel like I can do some good.

4/10/12

My daughter was sexually abused by her father 16 years ago. On a beautiful spring afternoon my six year old daughtger came home from school and was crying. She told me her father had laid on top of her. The thoughts that raced through my head at that time cannot be explained. I believed something happened to her but I didn’t know what. She wouldn’t tell me. I called her father at work and asked him what he did to her to make her so upset. Two months later I went to court and received a restraining order as a result of him taking me down to the ground in front of my three children. I went to a counselor who called my children’s supervising therputic counselor at that time. She called DYFS and I had to bring my daughter in to be questioned at that time. The counselor said she didn’t think anything happened to my daughter at that time. I brought my daughter back into DYFS and demanded to see the counselor my daughter had just spoken to. I was upset. I wanted action. The counselor said to me at that time that “nothing that bad could have happend to my daughter compared to how I was acting in their office.” I was livid and called my children’s superivising theraputic counselor. The following week I brought my daughter back to DYFS where the counselor and a detective questioned my daughter again. My ex husband was arrested that afternoon. My daughter did not want to testify. My ex pleaded to endangering the welfare of a minor and Megan’s law applied. It took my daughter fifteen more years before she would tell me in detail what her father did to her. This was after a very serious attempt on her life. My ex had been contacting her trying to convince her everything was in her mind. Again we went to court to obtain a restraining order for my daughter.

I cannot express enough how important it is to LISTEN to someone who reveals they have been sexually abused and take action. I wish more that anything none of this happened to our family. My daughter is graduating college in a few weeks. She is going on to graduate school. This has not been easy for her. She has spent a lifetime in counseling. She is an active member of NAMI and is on medication for bipolar disorder. She has worked hard to overcome the abuse she suffered as a child. I wish I could have saved her from the sexual abuse she endured. I will never understand sexual abuse. I do know there are steps we can take to educate the public and help protect our loved ones.

4/10/12

I am a survivor. The sexual abuse was from my father. I’m tired of being silenced about it in my family, in my culture, in my self. This is the time to speak up, and have faith in my self. I am tired of worrying if I trigger someone in a conversation. If I do, I offer a compassionate heart and ears to help you get through the trigger. Together, we speak up and remind ourselves we are not alone!

4/2/12

I didn’t even know I was a survivor of this until December of 2012, when I was reading about Sexual Abuse because I wanted to be able to help women and children with this issue- though at the time I didn’t understand why I felt that way.

I was sexually abused when I was under the age of seven- I think I was five, I don’t really remember. I think it was only one time- and because I don’t know for sure, I want to believe that.

It was the teenage boy neighbor, I don’t know or remember his name, I only remember his mother’s name. And no last name either.

I don’t think I was raped – but he masturbated me, and performed oral sex on me.

So yeah, that’s my story.

I am still dealing with it…I want to really help people though, still…

I’ve only know about this for about four or five months. I’ve told my parents, though, and they are being supportive.

I want to get counseling, but at the same time feel kinda weird about it.

So I guess that’s my story.

I’m 20 now, and because of my faith, I know that God will use this for good and that even though I don’t understand how or why this happened, I know that he will help me.

Thank you for listening.

4/1/12

Thank you for your book, Lauren. It has been a great comfort to me. I am a 45 year-old, happily married, blessed mother of 2 sons. My family is the joy in my life. However, my family of origin was the nightmare of my life.

I am the youngest of 5 children. We grew up in a very strict, privileged, religious home. with private school educations. The house looked great on the outside. The inside was hell. My parents were physically and verbally abusive. My 17 year-old brother began molesting me when I was 9. The abuse lasted until I was 12. Your book made me cry because someone else knew why I couldn’t tell. So many people asked “why didn’t you say something sooner?” They don’t get it. The house of cards would have crashed to the ground and it was my job to keep them standing up. We had mental illness, drug abuse, homosexuality and incest in that house and my parents made sure it was swept so far under the rug it went through the floor.

I finally spoke up to my parents when I was 12, the pain was becoming unbearable. I was told never to tell another soul. My brother did not admit to the abuse, but never laid a hand on me again, except to beat me. I coped by developing eating disorders and alcoholism. I entered a psych ward at 25 for severe depression. I finally told a social worker what had happened, but never got the chance to confront my brother as the social worker promised. You see, when he was confronted by the “professionals,” he said he’d been sexually abused by another older sibling. They let him go home with a hug. The system has not done a lot for me. I functioned on my own.

I eventually got sober 13 years ago, married a wonderful man and gave birth to two beautiful sons. Yet inside, the anxiety was chewing me to bits. It wasn’t until both of my parents died that I felt free enough to seek therapy. It’s been a year now, a hard torturous year of therapy, and I have a ways to go. I am a good wife and mother, but I want to to be more than that. I want to be a happy and serene person in my soul.

Right now it’s a process. Your book helped me tremendously. I don’t believe God put me on this earth to be miserable, and it’s time to put the blame where it deserves to go – on my brother’s shoulders. Whether he thinks so or not, I KNOW IT IS NOT MY FAULT. It’s taken me 32 to years to actually be able to feel that sentence. Progress is slow, but I don’t give up hope. Thank you again, and my prayers to anyone who suffers this pain. You are not alone and it’s not your fault.

3/27/12

At 3 I was sexually molested, then at 6 by a friend’s step-dad. Then at 11, I started to babysit for a family – the father started to sexually abuse me, at lest 3 times a week…I think his wife knew what he was doing. I am the youngets of 5 children. My parents did not care what I did or were I was, so when this man sterted to say things to me, I took the bait. Like so many of us, he was grooming me. I would see him beat his kids…I was trying to keep them safe, and stay alive myself.

I did not tell anyone. My behavior at shcool got bad and I got kicked out of school. No one asked me what my problem was – by the way, I was born in the U.K. I tried to kill myself at 16, still no help. This man got his oldest child pregnant. At this time, he made me marry him, so at 19, I become the step-mother for 7 kids. Still, I told no one what was going on in that house.

He let me – why, I dont know – come over here to the USA. I met a man here, my current husband. We became close and I told him some of what I was going through. I think I was telling him so he would know just how dirty and bad I was. I was pushing him away. This man belived me 100%. I came home to the U.K. and divorced my abuser, but still no one knew what went on. I had to watch were I went – this man was not happy with me.

Well, I have been married to my current husband for 19 years. We both went back to the U.K. about 4 years ago and I went to the police and told them about what had happened to me. I wanted them to stop him from doing it to other kids. This is what happened…

They took video of me, looked in to taking him to court. They belived me and arested him, but he, of course, deined it all. They asked his daughter if they could do a DNA test on the child. At this time the child was a late teen, and had been put up for adoption. The mother found the teen, but she would not let them do the DNA testing…this would have easily proved that her dad was not her child’s father, but by saying no, the police knew I was right. The case was put to the crown prosecution. They looked it over and said that they did not think they could get a good outcome in court and did not want to put me through a hearing. In the way I can understand this, it was his word against mine. I was upset, I wanted my chance to stand up and let people know what he was doing. I was told that if any other people come forword with the same thing about him, then they would have him in court – with me as well. So far no one has come forward.

I am 48 now. I still have anger problems. I do get some help, but not as much as I need. I have bipolar and PTSD. I would give my life to help other kids to not go through this. I want to help in some way…in GA,there is nowhere to get help. So please find some one to tell. If they don’t do anything, find another person. Keep telling until someone does something for you. Never give up hope, keep on going for yourself. Prove to people that you are strong, and remember, IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO TELL. You can do it. This is just a short part of my story. I want to help. Thank you for taking time to read my story, and good luck always.

3/17/12

I was sexually abused by my father at a very young age. Although I can not remember the first time or my exact age but I know my secret was already there during Kindergarten. The sexual abuse did not stop until I was 12 and I didnt have the courage to speak up until I was 15. The secret I carried during my younger years made me feel very lonely and hopeless but the emotional scars that followed after the sexual abuse was even more tragic. My teenage years were very difficult for me, I was very sad, suicidal and lonely. But I choose not to allow my past to continue controlling my life. I choose to move forward and be happy. Although it took a very long time to forgive myself for what had happened to me, I slowly started trusting people and now am a happy wife and mother of two. I am 29 years old and extremely blessed. I still suffer from the occasional nightmare but I dont allow the sadness to consume me anymore. I deserve to be happy.

2/23/12

From the ages of about 5 to 15 or 16 my older brother sexually abused me. This was in the 1960′s. I had 5 other siblings and at least one other was also a victim of this. He was 6 years older than I and from about the age of 9 until I was 16 I was never safe. When 7, I almost told a nurse at school but did not. I just told her that my mother didn’t care. She kept asking me what was wrong. I didn’t have the words to say and felt “bad” to talk about it. When I was 10 or so, I told my mother. She just said it was a “phase” he was going through and went back to doing the laundry. I can still feel the overwhelming sense of hopelessness and at that moment knew I had to take care of myself. For years I slept in fear, kept things in front of my door, got locks for my door but it did not stop him from trying and approaching me in other places. I stayed away as much as possible and became more and more unable to ask for any type of help or trust others. When I was about 15, my father finally witnessed him and kicked him out of the house. However, my parents never asked me what had happened or initiated any sort of conversation with me.

I am now 56 and a grateful survivor of sexual abuse and non-protection. It took me until I was 29 to tell the secret again to anyone and start to get help. Years of counseling, support groups, PTSD medication, time with other survivors, and finding my way to my God and prayer are all parts of my recovery process. For me the most difficult journey has been forgiving the non-protection of my parents and I believe it was this that caused the most damage to my developing personality and ability to trust myself and others. I am so grateful to have had so much support from so many over the years.

Just when I think I have finished the grieving of the lost childhood and many of my potentials, I find there is something else to work on. The amount of energy recovery from this abuse takes is very great. The one question that is the hardest for me to let go of is who I would have been and what contributions I would have made had I not suffered these violations. That is something I have put in Gods hands. I have become a professional person and have been able to counsel many many people that are also abuse survivors. My insight into the healing process is so great…it is the gift of the abuse. I am grateful for this gift. I am grateful for the ability to really understand and feel the power of forgiveness that recovery of this debt brings. I am able to care for my mother now and walk peacefully beside her. I still have problems more easily with relationships and have to work on my reactions to things more than others do. However, I live a full and safe life now, one day at a time.

2/22/12

This is actually not my story but my niece’s. She was 13 yrs old while living with her father at time. His best friend raped her and she became pregnant and was so afraid that she didn’t tell her mother what happened until she was 6 months pregnant. It has been a long road for her, and although it was traumatizing she made the decision to keep her baby. She confided in me that she just couldn’t bare not knowing whether this child was being taken care of or not. Through a lot of family support she is now 17 yrs old raising her 3 yr old son with the help of her mother. And although he is a constant reminder of what happened to her she loves him unconditionally. The man who did this to her only got 4 yrs and I think only served 3 yrs of that sentence. He was released from prison on Jan, 25, 2012 and now they are trying their best to have him sign his rights away to this child. They are going through all the necessary channels now to get a permanent restraining order. Walking with you Tuesday was a privilege and an honor knowing that she is not alone. Thank you so much for all that you are doing!

2/20/12

My sister is 14 months older than me. When she was 4 years old and I was 3 years old we were in the bath tub. My back was to the water faucet. My mother had just walked out of the bathroom to go check on something. My sister said “because mommy touches us there it is OK for us to touch each other there”. I was in completely SHOCKED as my sister took a wash rag and rubbed my private parts.

I KNEW IT WAS PROFOUNDLY WRONG for her to touch me there but I said nothing. For the next two years she would order me to get on her bed. She would cover us with her blanket and she would proceed to use some tissue and play with my private parts. I HATED her doing it and I HATED HER!!!!

My mother finally caught her in the act and the abuse stopped. But, I still had to share a room with her until she married and moved out of the house. She was a very ANGRY child and would beat my brother and myself all the time. My younger brother, who she insists she did not molest, was a very good and sweet boy. He is 16 months younger than I am. We would play together very nicely. We never had “control” or “power” issues. If my sister came into the room and saw us playing she would bully us and take over. We would cry and then mom would come and spank all three of us. We received WAY too many spankings for my sister’s bullying ways.

To this day to not like people touching me anywhere on my body. I am not very sexually active or very physically touchy with people.

I saw an episode of Oprah were she was interviewing 3 sexual predators. One of the men had sexually raped and then repeatedly engaged in sexual episodes with his younger cousin. When Oprah asked him how he thinks what he did changed his cousin he said something very profound. He said “I killed the person she she could have become.” When I heard that I thought that is exactly what my sister did: she killed the person that I could have become.

When it was “time” for my mother to tell me about the facts of life my sister was in the room. Unknown to me, which I found out many years later, she had asked our mother if she could be in the room when mom spoke to me about sexual things.

I HATED my sister. I, again was devastated. My mom and sister were sitting close together on mom’s bed and I was in the farthest corner of the room. The WHOLE time I was thinking; I HATE HER, I HATE HER, WHY IS SHE HERE? Needles to say, I heard nothing my mother shared about the facts of life.

Somehow, I was “absent” on the day that the school showed the facts of life film. Now, mom was not one to let us not go to school. I am wondering if my sister knew about the day the film was going to be shown and then suggested to my mom that I was “sick”. I would not have faked being sick on that day and I do not believe that my mom would have not allowed me to see it.

So I went into puberty not knowing much. I knew nothing about sexual reproduction or even HOW to get pregnant. But because of my early molestation experiences I was not “sexual” whatsoever. I was 18 when I finally began to read books on how sexuality and reproduction works.

Then, to make matters even worse. An older man that my sister dated for a while was “interested” in me. My sister told me “he is not that bad once you get to know him.” WELL HE WAS THAT BAD, he date raped me.

I am now 58. It took me until I was in my late 40′s to even mention to anyone what had happened over the years with my sister. I finally had to convince myself that “tissues” are not going to hurt be because tissues were my sisters weapon of abuse.

Just last year (2011) I finally connected ALL the pieces of my sister’s effect on my own sexuality or lack there of.

I am writing MY story to let others know that even at a very young age and with your OWN siblings, ABUSE IS ABUSE. NO ONE IS TO TOUCH YOU WHERE YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE TOUCHED. SPEAK UP, SPEAK OUT.

2/16/12

I started to be molested at the young age of 6 by an elderly man in the neighborhood. 3 months later a friend of the family started to rape me. Then by the time I was seven my cousin was doing the same to me. This went on for 2 years. I had no idea this was wrong and I was having horrible dreams every night about the events happening in my life. I was threatened by all 3 men that if I ever told anyone they would kill me and then my family.

One night, my dad walked in on my cousin molesting me under the covers and that was the last time he ever touched me. My dad to this day doesn’t know the real story.

My dad came home one day early from work and right as the friend of the family was taking me to the spot, I flat out came out and told my dad that he had been looking at my privates. The man ran away and we never heard from him again. When I was 14 I finally came out with the whole truth and we went to press charges but the courts found him not in the right mind and gave him maximum sentencing in a state mental hospital, not prison, a hospital.

As far as the old man goes, well we moved down out of the neighborhood, and the next time I ever saw him was when I was 16 and I was working. He gave me $500 and told me to keep my mouth shut. I never saw him again, as far as I know he has passed.

To this day I have to go to counseling. I have since moved on, but the nightmares and memories will remain. I have been blessed enough though to have met a man that is understanding and comforting. I have been married 2 1/2 years, but unfortunately I do not believe I will ever be able to trust him or love him to my fullest potential due to what has happened in my life and he understands that. Unfortunately, I also married a man whose father is a sexual pedophile as well. I did not know this before we were married. He only did 8 of his 20-year sentencing and will only remain on probation the rest of his life.

I am doing this walk to bring awareness to everyone who has been sexually abused at some point in his or her life. Not just children, adults too. I hope one day these people that abuse will be sent directly to death row. They steal innocence and lives. They kill their victims, not physically, but emotionally, mentally and most of all sexually. It’s not fair these people get to continue their lives. I also hope the state will see what a serious issue this is as well.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

2/12/12

My niece by marriage always had problems with relationships. We struggled to deal with her moods. When her step-mom moved out and left her with her father, the source of her behavior came out. Her father had been sexually abusing her since before the age 11. He would drug her with sleeping pills and video her in different sexual positions. She was rescued from this daily abuse when her grandmother sensed an unusual closeness between her son and granddaughter. Her father, abuser, tormentor was a police officer and has now been incarcerated for three years. Soon this child will testify against him.

2/8/12

I was honored to walk with Lauren on Feb. 7 2012. I am a victim advocate and the Sexual Assault Coordinator for our center here in Ocala. Below is the story of one of our survivors:

Jane Doe’s life is one of many difficult memories. Her father died from an overdose when she was 4 years old. Her mother was an addict and had 3 children. Jane Doe was the oldest. At the age of 6 she was continually molested by her mother’s boyfriend for 3 years. She told her mother, who didn’t believe her or more likely didn’t care. When she was 9 years old that boyfriend left and after a year she had a step father. This man raped her repeatedly. She again told her mother who ignored it again. She did tell her grandmother…she had Jane Doe spend more time with her and her grandfather to keep her away from this monster. She knew how her daughter was, and knew she didn’t care about her children, only her drug habit. Jane Doe’s mother wanted her back home to take care of the younger children. Unfortunately the grandmother was unable to protect her from her future of continued sexual assault.

When Jane Doe was 12, her mother gave a man permission to marry her daughter. He was verbally and physically abusive to her. At the age of 18 she had her first child and had 3 more after that. When he almost killed her from punching and kicking her repeatedly , she left with all 4 children and got a job and raised the children. All the children are adults now and know nothing of their fathers abuse of their mother. She left when they were all young.

Jane Doe became addicted to drugs to cope with the horrible memories of her life….she moved to Ocala from up north hoping for a new start. After being here for a year, she was walking to the store. A man drove up to her in a van and dragged her into it. He brutally raped her and sexually assaulted her beyond anything we can imagine. He was going to kill her….Jane Doe fought back and was able to escape. She was the victim of a serial rapist. This monster stole all the victims purses with all their identification. They each were terrified that he would come to their homes, because he had their addresses. Victim’s Compensation would have helped each of these survivors feel safe if they could of only received it.

Jane Doe was terrified to go home and stayed in shelter where she felt safe. She was his last victim. Thanks to her description and identifying him, he is behind bars. She wants justice and wants him to never get out. She lost a relationship because of him. she has nightmares, panic attacks, anxiety, her family has ostrasized her, her world once again spiraling out of control because of sexual assault. We were able to get her a scholarship into one our best facilities for intense counseling. She will be there to get the help she so desperately needs from all the trauma that she has suffered over the years. She is young….only 42. We are hoping justice will be served and that her future will be one of hope and recovery.

I have only worked at our center for a year, and have served as the Sexual Assault Coordinator for 9 months. It never ceases to amaze me how much sexual abuse is going on and how little is done about it. State Attorney’s Office not wanting to take on cases unless conviction is a slam dunk. More needs to be done to change this. I look forward to the future with helping to make the changes that need to be done and with Lauren bringing the awareness that is needed and her father helping to change legislation I know change will be made for the better.

God Bless you in all you do to help make this possible.

2/6/12

I am 18 almost 19 and I am a survivor of sexual abuse. I was 13. I just turned 13. He was my best friend’s step-brother. I was over babysitting and he happened to come home around midnight. I was about to go to sleep then he approached me with the idea of me looking older. Like I was 18 or 19 because thats how old he was. He convinced me that it was okay to touch each other in places that I’d never touched before. I’d never kissed a boy before but one kiss turned into him telling me that I needed to give him oral sex. I did not want to do that, so that’s when he pushed me down and started having sex with me. I wasn’t sure what to do and because I’d never have sex before it didn’t work out in his favor. I started bleeding and I decided to go to bed upstairs. I locked my door but he found a way in. He carried me in his room and masturbated on me. I didn’t want to yell because i thought i was doing something wrong. He finished and I walked back into my room and fell asleep.

That night forever changed me. I was a straight-A student. That semester following I flunked 8th grade and got kicked out of school. I didn’t eat anything for two months and would take laxatives about every other day of eating. I began my freshman year with eating and mood disorders. I didn’t tell anyone not even my friends or family. I started sleeping around and I started drinking every night, I was sneaking out and going to keggers at 14. By they time I turned 15 I was addicted to “Triple C’s” and I overdosed 3 times in one summer. I choked on my own throw-up and blacked out on a regular basis. 10th grade I started smoking weed and drinking even more. I could chug two bottles with no problem. I was having sex with guys and I couldn’t remember their names. I had had sex with over 15 guys at 15. My junior year I decided weed and drinking didn’t mess me up enough so I turned to prescription drugs and beans. I was at one point addicted to Viciton, Adderol, Xanex, and Oxy’s at 17. The night of my 17th b-day I tried to hang myself. I choked myself until I passed out and then was awoken by my mom. I was then sent to rehab. I got out and was clean for a few months then started messing around with Molly and heavily drinking. I came close to death many times. I am now almost 19 and I can handle myself, but on some days I wake up and drugs sound like a really good idea. But I know i need to stay clean to be an example for other young girls who battle the struggle of addiction and depression.

2/3/12

When I was 14 I was sexually abused while I was walking home. My parents didn’t know, but he took me in my home and repeatedly sexually abused me so I started to cry. Everything thing that he touched that I could get my hands on I took it. Then he finally ran out of the house and threw me on his motorcycle and he said if I screamed that he would throw me off. When he went to sleep I tiptoed down the stairs and out the house and ran for the nearest place, calling the police. Later when that man woke up he was arrested.

1/28/12

My abuse began when I was 7 years old. My best friend’s dad and neighbor began raping me then. I know it went on for awhile, but I don’t know how long. He was also abusing my friend. I didn’t have the courage to tell anyone. I tried to forget all about it. In fact, I was so successful at “making it go away” that I was completely shocked when I was 29 years old and began having memories of the abuse. The first person I told was a therapist. I still haven’t told my family. But, I am finding strength in speaking my truth and it is setting me free from all that he did to me! I hope that this story allows someone else to feel not so alone in their own struggle and give voice to their experiences!

1/26/12

My story is one of literal survival. As a young teenage boy I ended up on the streets of a large city following fleeing an abusive and chaotic home. Once on the streets I had nowhere to sleep, nothing to eat and no idea how to meet my basic needs. It wasn’t long before I fell into the clutches of an older man, who through the deception of acting like he cared about my welfare and “showing me the ropes” began sexually abusing me repeatedly, often while I was under the influence of alcohol. It disgusted me and I wish I could have fought back but he was larger and stronger, plus I was dependant on him for my survival in that situation so it continued. It felt like I would never escape him, although eventually I did, after which I was put in touch with a youth agency that helped me stabilize and get off the streets. However, after being sexually abused by that man it felt like I wasn’t the same kid as before. I am now in my early 40’s and just beginning to work through what happened to me way back then. I spent years drinking trying to avoid dealing with it until alcohol couldn’t help me with it anymore so I quit. That was a year and a half ago and in a lot of ways I’ve never felt better, but recovery from sexual abuse isn’t easy, and there are days that I feel completely emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed by it all. That said, I can still recognize the benefits of what is very hard work, with staying sober and being able to live with my emotions the first among them. Anyways thank you for the opportunity to share my story. The more I do so the better I feel. Thanks again.

1/20/12

Since the age of 7, I was sexually abused. I was molested by the maintenance man in our apartment building. That was the only time he molested me and it was in the living room while my grandmother was making him coffee and my little sister was right across the table from me coloring. I was so scared to yell or say anything, but my inside was screaming help. The only thing I could think of was to ask my grandmother to use the bathroom. She gave me a confused look and said of course. I then stayed in my room and called my sister over so that disgusting person wouldn’t be able to get to her. Later that day I told my dad and that was it. From then on, I became a magnet for sexual abuse. My father remarried when I was about 10 and my stepbrother sexually abused me for years. At times, I felt like I had to do it… If I fought back, I would get punched, hit, etc. It became a normal routine at one point. Childhood was something I never experienced and was a very dark time. I was physically, sexually and emotionally abused and I never had a parent or an adult to stand up for me. At 15, my step sister’s husband tried to molest me and I was finished with being scared. I was over it. I yelled and he told me to be quiet so she doesn’t hear me scream. No one believed me and I thought they never would. It felt like it’s easier not to deal with the situation. It’s important for parents to establish a healthy trusting communication, so kids are able to tell their parents and the appropriate help is saught at the time. Victims spend years with anger, hurt and sadness hidden inside and are not able to heal.

1/15/12

It started when I was 9. Innocently enough too:( Just scratching my father’s back and then his stomach, and then…..you know the rest. It went on until I was 14 and I got strong enough emotionally to blackmail him. The anger, the hatred and the fear were a daily part of my life. He would lock us in the bathroom. I was one of 5 children and the oldest, so I had to protect my two other sisters. My brother was physically abused for awhile and is a drug addict to this day. I’m not sure why I stayed so strong, but I was in therapy from the time I was 27 until I was 50. I am 52 now. I was in somewhat abusive relationships up until a few years ago. I am in the fitness industry and work to keeps others strong and healthy. My work and my three sons are what have always kept me going. I wish there would have been a site like this when I was young. I couldn’t tell anyone until I got older. My mother still doesn’t really believe me or support me…….. I have become a better mother and person though regardless.

04/14/11

I was molested for 5 years in the 1960′s, a time where you were frowned on if you spoke of personal family matters. Even after it went public and my father was arrested, the family kept up appearances and began a decades long campaign of silence and suppression. When I finally spoke, I was shunned by family members, who told me to ‘get over it’. My mother’s allegiance was with my assailant, her husband. She missed him and confessed to secret meetings with him. To become a Survivor and let go of the Victim mentality, I had to let go of the toxic family relationships that were not allowing me to heal, and to seek the help that had been denied when I was a child. I have surrounded myself with loving positive people and continue to allow contentment and peace to grow.

07/22/11

When I was 8 my uncle molested me. I didn’t tell anyone until I was 16 years old because he had scared me into not saying anything. Even when I finally told someone about what had happened my uncle was not arrested for his actions.

I have become a strong woman because of it. I try my hardest to live life to the fullest, and I am happy about the woman that I have become.

07/28/11

As a child you’re unaware of the harm and cruel things that any human can do to a child.

When I was 5 years old I was sexually abused by my uncle and this happened until I was 7 years old.

Unfortunately, when my uncle came from Cuba my father opened our doors for him to have a place to stay until he was able to find a job and get on his feet. At that time I had my own bedroom and due to the fact that my uncle was moving in; my parents told me that I would have to share my room with my uncle sleeping in the same bed that I would sleep in. This was a 37 year old man sleeping next to a 5 year old boy. As the days became nights and his poise became stronger, the sexual abuse became more and more. Every single night my uncle would sexually abuse me without me understanding and being confused and scared of what was happening to me. I will never forget the tears that would drop down face in those years of my life. My uncle never verbally scared me nor told me that he would threaten my parents in any way. Due to the fact that I did not know what was going, not knowing how to even address this situation with my parents and how painful it was, I kept my mouth shut and that gave him the green light to make it an every night habit.

Until I was 7 years old my father told him that he needed to move out, for the safety of my sister because she was in her teens and my father didn’t want him to get any ideas. Little did my father know that my uncle was not interested in my sister. The sexual abuse was already happening in my room.

After my uncle moved out, I never told my parents about it. I didn’t tell a soul. I learned to deal with it and move on. I wasn’t going to allow for something like that to take over my life. I have to say that I am very proud of the man that I have become. It made me become stronger.

I respect children today and respect and care for those who have gone through this in life. Every parent should always have open communication with their child, and talk about these things. A child doesn’t know all the wrong things that happen in this world and it’s the parent’s job to teach them and guide them through all these situations.

Talk to your child, if you don’t they will stay quite; and that is the worst thing any child can do. I’m 26 years old and I am a survivor of sexual abuse. God bless every survivor out there that has gone through the same things like me; and God please guide every child’s soul so they don’t have to go through the horrible abuse and feeling that anyone can do to them. I rest my case.

07/28/11

This is actually my now 12 year old daughter’s survival story but this is also a story we want as many people as possible to read…if it can help one person than it is worth getting it out there.

We had gone to spend the day with family at a beach condo one day last summer. My aunts, uncles, and cousins were all there. We swam in the pool, went and played on the beach and had a great day, or at least it was a great day until my daughter came to me with a look of complete helplessness, violation, and desperation on her face. This is a look that will haunt me forever. I knew immediately something was wrong.

She informed that one of my cousins had been touching her as he was throwing her into the deep end. My first thought was to get her out of that place as quick as I could. We packed up and left as soon as we could without giving any clue as to what had happened. You see, I didn’t want him to get scared and run or try to talk to her or me for that matter. I knew I was going to call the police but I had to get her out of there. She was terrified and sickly looking. She didn’t even look like my little girl. As soon as we left, I called my husband and told him to meet me because something terrible had happened. We met at my parent’s house. My parents, my brother, my husband..we convened there and decided the best thing to do was to take her to the hospital, just to make sure he hadn’t hurt her in anyway. I also knew that the ball would get rolling quickly that way because the hospital would have to call the police and the Dept of Children and Family Services. As my husband and I left for the hospital, my parents called my aunt and uncle over (his parents) stating there was something that had happened and they needed to talk about it. Of course, they were devastated. We all were. They believed my parents and left to go talk to my cousin and his wife. He admitted it. My aunt and uncle talked him in to turning himself in and he did just that the very next morning.

It has now been almost 14 months since that day. He is in prison, serving TWO life sentences. My daughter wasn’t the only one if the family he had molested. As it turned out he was also molesting his niece and had been for 2+ years…she hadn’t told until my daughter came forward.

It’s ok to tell…there is always someone out there willing to believe and help!