My Story about Childhood Sexual Abuse

I've always wanted to share this story, but man, its hard! I mean, where do I even start?

I wanted to write a blog about what happened to me as a child because not only will I know it'll be a cathartic outlet but I'd love to be able to inspire someone else to tell their story.

It began so long ago that I don't even remember when it started. My mum met a man when I was about 3 years old after splitting up with my father. He was originally from Scotland but was working in Kent as a Taxi Driver.

He moved in relatively quickly into our family home with my mum, my two brothers and me. Like I said I don't know when the abuse even started but right from the beginning I was his 'little girl' and rarely had any contact with my own Father. Overall my childhood was emotionally distressing, we were warm, clothed and fed but my mother was emotionally abusive and quite violent. Looking back all she ever did was scream and shout as us almost as if we were just an inconvenience constantly in the way. Thinking about it now she clearly has issues but how can three young children understand that at the time?

Looking back I don't directly blame my mother for what happened to me, but when a child craves love but feels none from their primary caregiver, I guess you're loyalty goes towards the one who does. In this case, it was Him. He always showed me so much love, never shouted at me or told me off. He'd even take my side if I had been fighting with my brothers. Obviously this was all grooming.

We eventually moved to Devon when I was 6 and he got a job working early shifts in a local food factory. Because of the early starts he would go to bed quite early in the evening, and because I was so young with school the next day I'd be put into bed with him to try to make me go to sleep early. This was the perfect time for him each day to slowly wreck my life.

I have no intention of writing details of what he would do to me because I can't. I'm a mother now and thinking of myself going through that at my sons age kills me. It's a sickness felt deep within that isn't worth making myself feel like shit for. As far as I'm concerned exact details have evaporated.

So the evenings where his prime time to do whatever he wanted to me, but this soon developed into any chance possible, everyone being out the house at any time, in my bedroom at night whilst everyone else slept. He even made me do terrible things whilst we were alone walking the dog in the local woods. He was disgusting.

It's so easy to ask why I never told anyone at the time but I was so young that I didn't know if it was normal or not. I remember going to my friends house for sleepovers and wondering if her lovely kind dad did the same things to her.

He always told me that if I did tell anybody then he would be sent away for a long time and I'd never see him again. Yes the abuse would have stopped but he was a 'loving parent'. I needed him, my mum wasn't evil but she certainly had no love to give.

Eventually when I was 11 my mum and Him split up and he moved out. I was devastated. He was the closest I had to a dad.

He moved into a flat in the town and my mum allowed me to go and visit him understanding how close we were. Straight away the abuse carried on, but this time he had to work a little harder to keep me visiting. He'd give me money or whatever I wanted- CD's, games, anything. He even bought me a mobile phone and would top it up with credit for me.

Eventually my mum decided to move us away as he kept stalking her and making her life hell. We moved about 45 minutes away and I completely ended contact with him as it was important we kept out location a secret.

It took until I was 11 years old for the hell to stop. I look back at it all now and call it hell but as a child I didn't see it that way at all. Yes, I was confused, but I never felt any anger towards him. I don't know how to describe it to be honest, I almost feel guilty for not feeling as horrendous as I should have. Was that my brain just trying to protect myself? Who knows.

This is only part of my story. Eventually It all came out and that is when the real emotional damage was done. I may write about that too but for now I'm feeling a calm sense of relief just sharing this small part.

Thank you for listening xx

Me age 8 as a Bridesmaid in 1998