I am HER: What I Learned from a Little Girl

It was second nature to me. It was basically all I knew.

If I didn't have friends whose lives weren't like mine, I would've thought that everyone was doing it too. It started when I was six. By nine, I was being raped up to six times a week; trapped for hours on end. Other men eventually started joining. The pain I went through was unbearable, the torture was unreal. If I got out of line, another kick, another punch, another burn from a cigarette. I was used for child porn, which I did not realize or confirm until much later. I was drugged so much, I was lucky I could remember my own name in those moments– lucky that I didn't turn out to be a drug addict in my adult life. All I focused on was not getting killed. I didn't want my life to end like that. My will to live was so strong.

For ten years, I was brainwashed and abused. I never spoke a word of it. The punishment for telling had never been good, plus my mother always took his side. I was all alone. And little me was practically a different entity of myself. Completely different than who everyone else thought I was or who I am today. We spent so much time protecting each other. She held the pain on the inside, and I kept the brave face on the outside; it was our only way of survival. It is weird to look back now because I don't see myself as that little girl. She is someone else to me. 

My will to live was so strong.

It's been 14 years since it all finally ended. Nine months ago, I scoped out a new therapist. I was nervous, because I had been let down by so many before, and I had spent more time trying to get people to believe what I was saying and to help me. But I took the chance because I had too. I had to stop blaming myself for everything that happened. I needed to remind myself that it was not my fault. And so I found a therapist who has helped me more than I even knew I needed help. I have stopped living in such denial, and I finally started blaming them instead of myself. I finally accepted that the little girl who went through years of rape and torture was me. 

It's a hard journey. It's a scary one. You have to be ready to face it. I wasn't ready until very recently. I didn't want to deal with how much work it was going to be. But I am so proud that I did. I am so lucky that I have made it this far. I am blessed because I survived. Now I focus on thriving. The hard part about healing from abuse is not realizing how much was controlled by that abuse in the first place. I didn't realize that so many parts of my life were controlled by what happened to me. 

We spent so much time protecting each other. She held the pain on the inside, and I kept the brave face on the outside; it was our only way of survival.

Have faith. I am thriving today; happily married with children. A good job, a good life. A life that I don't have to fear and a life I can enjoy. 

So each day, I focus on having another day. Another day to live, another day to heal, another day to learn. But most importantly— another day to  end my story my way. I am her and she is me.