#MeToo

For years, I carried a burden deep within me, a secret that weighed heavy on my soul and cast a shadow over every aspect of my life. It’s a story I’ve kept hidden, buried beneath layers of shame and fear, but today, I find the strength to break the silence and share my #MeToo story.

I was just a child, innocent and trusting when the unthinkable happened. Someone I knew, someone I should have been able to trust, betrayed that trust in the most horrifying way imaginable. The details are painful to recount, but the impact of that betrayal has reverberated through every moment of my life since.

At seven years old, I was sexually assaulted. The experience was incredibly frightening and confusing. Despite my experiences and emotions, I could not comprehend or reconcile them. In turn, I was unable to share the trauma or reach out for help from friends or family. The ordeal has been harrowing, but I can share it with you now despite not getting any support.

Around 2002, my grandparents moved from California to Montana. It was becoming increasingly difficult for my uncle to take care of them, and their health was slowly deteriorating. The fact that they lived closer to us, even though I was very young at the time, was a delight to me. The four younger siblings took turns visiting our grandparents at the nursing home when we had the opportunity. Two individuals alternated back and forth each week, sometimes spending one-on-one time with them.

Grandchildren love visiting their grandparents, and this was true for me until my grandpa started sexually abusing me. My age at the time prevented me from fully understanding what was happening to me. Even though my grandmother was sitting beside him, he was sly, and he was sly and masturbated to me in secret. Even though the pain was excruciating, there were times when it almost felt good. A combination of these conflicting emotions and my new experience greatly confused me. An experience that should have been transparently traumatic became opaque due to complicated and conflicting emotions.

Every week following church, our family made the customary trip to visit our grandparents. Yet, I met these visits with a sense of dread. Though I was too young to comprehend the pain fully, there was an underlying aversion towards these gatherings. Positive and negative emotions tangled within me, and I coped by harboring resentment towards them. My parents grew increasingly frustrated with my attitude towards my grandparents, witnessing my adolescence marred by anger and bitterness. Despite my efforts, I struggled to articulate the root of my discontent. It wasn’t until adulthood that I began to recognize the source of my turmoil: the hurt inflicted by my grandpa. 

As a result of being hurt and sexualized by adults, young girls learn how to keep secrets, feel shame, and look to sex as a measure of self-worth. Their boundaries don’t matter; no one can be trusted, and they feel unsafe. 

The abuse I endured left lasting and profound effects, manifesting in significant residual consequences. The challenges outlined above became prominent features of my life. Throughout my adolescence, I grappled with overwhelming shame, finding refuge in secrecy as I learned to suppress outward displays of emotion. Sexual desires were awakened prematurely due to the abuse I experienced, leading to impulsive behavior. Seeking validation, particularly from men, became a driving force, and I experienced a sharp decline in self-worth when approval was withheld. This cycle of seeking validation and subsequent self-sabotage resulted in the formation of numerous friendships, though some proved fleeting. Maintaining authentic connections with family members proved to be exceptionally challenging. Fueled by an inner concern for safety, I withdrew into myself, constructing emotional barriers as a means of self-preservation.

This writing journey has proven to be one of the most challenging tasks ever. Delving into my experiences has unearthed wounds I didn’t know existed, pushing me to confront them head-on. Reflecting on my adolescence has given me valuable insights into my younger self. Following erratic sexual behavior and indifference towards others, I had a sudden epiphany.

Reclaiming one’s life and moving forward with courage is a gradual, nonlinear process. It took me over twenty-six years to open up about my pain, but with each disclosure, the burden of guilt and shame I carried for more than a decade became lighter. Healing began when I acknowledged that I wasn’t to blame for what happened to me. I allowed myself to be trapped in a destructive cycle of believing that neither others nor my faith valued, loved, or esteemed me. Despite this, I’ve managed to regain control of my life and dispel the many falsehoods I internalized about myself through years of therapy. Overcoming the trauma has shown me that the abuser didn’t win and that the abuse no longer defines me.

Writing my #MeToo story brought me profound peace and strength, but I’ve learned that complete healing takes time. Each day, the scars of my past fade a little more as I lean on my faith and the support of others. Sharing your story empowers you to be heard and aids in the healing journey. It’s my sincere wish that you’ll find the strength to believe in yourself and acknowledge the trauma you’ve endured.