Why I didn’t talk about my abuse until now.

Trigger warning – rape mentioned*

This is the hardest blog I ever have or will ever need to write but I can no longer remain silent.

The first time I was sexually abused was by a family member and someone I loved and admired, I was between 5-7 years old.

I don’t remember the exact age I was.

I do not remember what clothes I was wearing.

I do not remember what day, month or even year it was.

I do not remember how many times it happened.

I do remember very clearly the smell he left, the taste of his tongue in my mouth, that it happened in my own room, the spare room and even on my mums bed.

I do remember very clearly witnessing him forcing one of my friends at the time to look at his exposed dick and forced it into her face as she cowered on my bed with her back against the wall.

I remember seeing another friend come running and screaming out of my house and being numb to what I knew had just happened.

I do not remember how people found out.

I do remember my entire family shunning my mum and myself for years afterwards even after he pleaded guilty because I should of just ‘shut my fucking mouth’ and being branded along with my 2 friends as ‘trouble making little whores.

A well respected DR digitally penetrated me a few years later in his surgery, he was known to my family.

I do not remember the exact age I was.

I do not remember what clothes I was wearing.

I do not remember what day, month or even year it was.

I do remember being told I would ruin his career. I confided to a friend who told everyone at school and I was branded a slut and bullied relentlessly so out of fear of losing everyone again, I remained silent.

A school friend attempted to rape me on the school oval in broad daylight in front of friends until another friend stopped him and beat him, I will be forever grateful to him.

I do not remember the exact age I was.

I do not remember what clothes I was wearing.

I do not remember what day, month or even year it was.

I knew to just let it go and stay silent so As not to lose my ‘friends’

I was raped and strangled by my then partner and told people that it was a ‘kink thing’ as it was very clear hand and finger prints around my neck and people noticed.

I do not remember what clothes I was wearing.

I do not remember what day, month or even year it was.

I blamed myself as we were both drunk, we were both high and we were together so really it’s not really rape even if I fought him and said no right?

I have never told a fucking soul until this very moment.

Every single time I have been abused, assaulted or raped, it has had a deep and long lasting impact on my life that still affects my mental health and life today in so many ways, it has driven me to abuse myself, abuse substances, self harm, attempt suicide and has marred every relationship I have ever been in.

We have no right to question a victims very real and very personal reasons not to come forth straight away. It can be just as traumatic losing everyone you love, being labelled a whore, being questioned about what you done to invite the abuse and not being believed by those you need to love and support you as the actual act itself.

We have an amazing ability to block a lot of traumatic experiences out of our minds and that is particularly true for abuse victims but some things we can not wipe from our memories and those moments are stuck on replay when we are forced to talk about our abuse.

Being silent is no longer an option though for my own mental health and to show my sisters I believe them and will stand with them in solidarity.

My children deserve to grow up in a world where rape culture is no longer prevalent, being silent was safer then speaking out until now, Now I have no fear and I will not stay silent.