This will be the first time I have ever fully told my story. The last time I was abused was 16 years ago. It still affects me today. Hopefully with telling my story, from my perspective, it will help me heal. Here it goes…
My mom was in a relationship with a woman 10 years younger than her. (I wasn’t going to use her name, but I don’t feel the need to protect her anymore.) Her name is Heather. Because of this I related very well to her. We listened to the same music, she would let me drive her car. I loved hanging out with her. For a 12 year old hanging out with a 20 year old was cool. She always told me I was mature for my age. That made me feel good.
So we would hang out a lot. She would pick me up from school. She was teaching me how to drive, so we would “cruise” around for hours. Eventually we started flirting with each other. I started developing a crush on her. The flirting became more and more frequent. Then one weekend we all went camping. The camping trip was with my mom, Heather, myself, my best friend, and her mom. My best friend and I wanted Heather to stay in the tent with us, so she did. We stayed up late talking and then my friend fell asleep. Heather asked if she could kiss me. I had never been kissed before and didn’t know what to do. I knew it was wrong, but I also knew I had a crush on her. So it happened. I was 12 years old and my first kiss was from my moms girlfriend. Why did I feel so good even though I knew it was wrong?
I thought that was going to be it. We kissed once in a tent while my best friend slept next to us. Then it happened again in my aunts basement, while everyone else was upstairs. And it happened again, while we were driving around. And again, while we were at my house alone. And it happened again, and again, and again….
Then it went further.
Everything was moving so fast. How can I tell her to stop? I’ve let this go on for so long now, I can’t tell her to stop. At 12 years old I have lost my innocence. I don’t know if I can consider it my virginity, because it was with a female. My perspective says yes.
This goes on for about a year. Then my mom finds out. She reads my diary, which had details about our camping trip. Instead of comforting me and letting me know it wasn’t my fault, she calls the cops. She tells them they need to remove me from my home and so they take me.
A lot of things during this period are foggy. I remember going to the police station a lot and talking to detectives. I wouldn’t tell them anything, because I didn’t want Heather to get in trouble. My mom put a two year restraining order on her. And I thought it was over. I was wrong.
6 months go by. I go into my moms room to grab a nail clipper and there she is. Laying in my moms bed. My mom put me through living hell. She called the cops on me, had me taken from my home. She never asked me about what happened. She never reassured me that it wasn’t my fault and that she loved me. My mom hated me. She hated me because I was the person her girlfriend was cheating on her with. She took her back. And because she took her back, that also meant I couldn’t escape from her.
Now, I also have to mention my mom, Heather, and my moms new girlfriend were all using drugs at this time. A lot of weird shit was going on. Heather was writing on my mirror in my bedroom “they can never keep us apart”. She was showering with my belongings. She was harassing me. At this point I was fearing for my safety.
I had stopped coming home. My mom would call the cops on me every other day for not coming home. When I was home my abuser was there and my mom would do nothing to stop her. I was ordered to see a councilor, but I was too scared to say anything. I didn’t want to get Heather in trouble because of the restraining order. I didn’t want to get my mom in trouble because she already hated me. I was stuck. So I wouldn’t go home and I kept getting in trouble.
A lot of things happened within that 2 year time period. During a vital time of my life. I can’t tell you when it ended, but at least it did. To this day I have commitment issues. My mom and I still don’t talk about it. She has never heard my perspective. We have both grown a lot. I’d like to say I forgive her, and a lot of days I do. But when I think about it, tears fill my eyes. Why wasn’t she on my side? While it may not have been sexual abuse in the way most people think, it was still abuse. I was manipulated into sexual acts with a grown woman. I know it wasn’t my fault at age 30, but that’s not who needed to hear that. A 12 year old little girl was the one who needed to hear that.
It wasn’t your fault!