Be still and rest in the Lord: wait for Him and patiently lean yourself upon Him;....Psalm 37:7

I have been praying and agonizing over having my sexual abuse written down anywhere. It was bad enough that I had to endure 1 year of talk and group therapy to even tell someone, I was finally able to share in 2000. I had 6 years of individual therapy where I only spoke briefly of my sexual abuse because I felt it was something that was dirty and I did not really want to talk about it even though it is apart of me.

Before I continue on I would like to say a prayer for myself and for those of you that are reading this that you might gain strength from my story and come away with a sense that something like this can't and won't destroy you. Please pray with me.

Dear Lord,
I pray for strength now for myself and for those that will be reading my site. I have never done anything like this before. Let it be a cleansing, refreshing, and a healing experience for me. I know that tears are currently brimming my eyes, I will try not to fight them but it is so hard. I hope that the people reading this site will find comfort and solace in reading my words. Lord, let the words flow from me so that by sharing my experience it will provide comfort for those still hurting and wounded. Let this site be a shining beacon for those that are dealing with child sexual abuse.
I pray in your dear name, Jesus.
Amen and Amen!!

Please know that what I'm going to talk about might be disturbing for some, I have to admit it's even disturbing for me. The only way I could share it on this page was to blare some really loud Country Music in my ears. I'm sure some of you can relate, whatever works!

I'm currently 33 years old as I sit here typing. A lot of the things that happened to me when I was young is starting to get really fuzzy so I would say it's probably best to get my story to everyone.

My abuser was my own father. I did try telling someone once when I was 9 years old and yes, the cops did stop at the house to ask my parents about it, my mother told them that I was making it all up. Afterwards she yelled at me and told me to stop making up stories about my father. Well little did she know that the stories that I was telling were actually true.

After that incident I kept my mouth shut, all the while my father continued to take me bit, by bit, by bit, until there wasn't much left but pain. It was made worse knowing that my mother knew what was going on but didn't help me.

One day I was talking to a friend of mine on the phone. I was talking about to my friend about sex, something I shouldn't have known about at that age, I was 12!

My friends mother confronted me about it and said that no 12 year old should know that much sex yet and asked me where I learned about it. Well, of course, at that age and me being so honest I couldn't just lie to her so I told her what happened. My friend's mother called Child Protective Services and told them what I had told her.

The next day in school I had to describe the nightmare I had been living. I shared all the details to them that day. I'm being kind here and won't share all of the gory details. If you're a child abuse survivor you know what was done to me.

The same evening that I talked to CPS they took both me and my brother out of our house. My mother again said I was making up stories, this time my grandmother was there and asked why. I told them both that it was true but at the time I doubted they believed me.

I sat in foster care for 6 months awaiting my fate, never knowing what was going to happen next. I never received a call from my mother but my grandmother would call, when she could, and kept me up to date on what was going on.

I found out that my parents somehow weaseled their lawyer into getting my brother back home but leaving me to rot in foster care. Sometime into my stay in foster care I found out through my grandmother that my dad did plead guilty!! I don't know the specific charges he plead to. To add insult to injury, his punishment? He had to attend sexual offender classes!! All he did was attend one class and basically told them that he wasn't a criminal, so he didn't go to anymore classes. Nothing more was done to him.

My story isn't done just yet. Thank God that I didn't have to stay in foster care until I was 18, my grandmother took me in. She did so against my mother's objections.

I thing I was suffering undiagnosed depression and post traumatic stress disorder at the time because I was doing things that were uncharacteristic of me at the time. When I was younger I use to love to be out all day and not come home until night. Now that I had been removed from parents house I had trouble leaving the house even to enjoy a day at the park.

I stayed with my grandparents for 2 years. After that I went to live with a school friend until I turned 18. As soon as I finished school and I turned 18 I was married. Shortly after that I had two children who are now in their teens.