How it started
I was abused from the age of 11 through 13, primarily by two women who lived in our neighborhood. They weren't the only people involved, but I consider them the ring-leaders. I used to count my mother as a third ring-leader, but in recent years I have come to recognize that in many ways she was also a victim, with issues that I only now understand. These days we would say she had learning difficulties, and she spent much of her own childhood in foster care, though she never talked about it. After years of hating her, I now mainly pity her, and my anger is reserved for those "friends" who exploited both of us.
I was an only child, and never knew my father. My mother had occasional boyfriends, but none of them stayed around very long, and I was mostly raised by an assortment of "aunts" - friends and neighbors, most of whom genuinely meant well and cared for us. But among these neighbors were the two women who instigated my abuse.
I had known these women all of my life. They were regular visitors to our house, usually for "girls nights" during which they and my mother would drink and smoke till the early morning. I liked them a lot - they were her "wild and crazy" friends. When I was about 10, they started to tease about me about how I was growing up, and make comments about my body. It seemed harmless, even flattering, but as time went by the teasing intensified, particularly when they had been drinking.
It was during one of those drinking sessions, when I was 11, that they first coaxed me into performing a "strip show", as they called it. It was spontaneous on that occasion (at least I think it was), but from that point on it became something that was expected of me, and I have to admit that I was a very willing participant. They made me feel like a star. I now understand that this was all part of grooming me, but at the time I loved it, and would do anything they asked of me. The secrecy around it only added to my excitement.
Things quickly escalated, without any resistance from me. The "strip shows" became increasingly explicit, and they and my mother started to physically abuse me, though at the time I didn't recognize it as that. In fact I relished the physical attention, and there were times I felt like the luckiest kid in the world. It continued like that for two years, and may have gone on longer if they had not become reckless. A few other people became involved, and after a while rumors started to spread in our neighborhood about what was happening. People started staring and making comments. Looking back I'm amazed that the police and social services were never alerted. At first I was mainly just upset that someone had breached our trust, and I had my suspicions about who that person was, but I soon started questioning everything that had happened, and found my confusion was matched by an increasing anger. That was when I started running away from home. And sometimes it feels like I'm still running.
I was an only child, and never knew my father. My mother had occasional boyfriends, but none of them stayed around very long, and I was mostly raised by an assortment of "aunts" - friends and neighbors, most of whom genuinely meant well and cared for us. But among these neighbors were the two women who instigated my abuse.
I had known these women all of my life. They were regular visitors to our house, usually for "girls nights" during which they and my mother would drink and smoke till the early morning. I liked them a lot - they were her "wild and crazy" friends. When I was about 10, they started to tease about me about how I was growing up, and make comments about my body. It seemed harmless, even flattering, but as time went by the teasing intensified, particularly when they had been drinking.
It was during one of those drinking sessions, when I was 11, that they first coaxed me into performing a "strip show", as they called it. It was spontaneous on that occasion (at least I think it was), but from that point on it became something that was expected of me, and I have to admit that I was a very willing participant. They made me feel like a star. I now understand that this was all part of grooming me, but at the time I loved it, and would do anything they asked of me. The secrecy around it only added to my excitement.
Things quickly escalated, without any resistance from me. The "strip shows" became increasingly explicit, and they and my mother started to physically abuse me, though at the time I didn't recognize it as that. In fact I relished the physical attention, and there were times I felt like the luckiest kid in the world. It continued like that for two years, and may have gone on longer if they had not become reckless. A few other people became involved, and after a while rumors started to spread in our neighborhood about what was happening. People started staring and making comments. Looking back I'm amazed that the police and social services were never alerted. At first I was mainly just upset that someone had breached our trust, and I had my suspicions about who that person was, but I soon started questioning everything that had happened, and found my confusion was matched by an increasing anger. That was when I started running away from home. And sometimes it feels like I'm still running.
