Sexual Relationships 
Sexual Health 
I know I have posted on this subject matter before, but I think it's time to bring awareness...awareness and support to those who have been sexually abused, molested, raped or abused in any way by a person who they thought they could trust.
Warning: this subject matter be a trigger in some people who have experienced sexual abuse. Read at your own risk.
I grew up in a regular family; and by regular, I mean I was brought up by Authoritative parents who loved me, and were stable parents who had the perfect balance of love and discipline. I love them both very much. I have an older sister, who, for the most part, always seemed to attract the rather unfavorable crowd of people. When I was about six years old, and still in to playing Barbies, and watching the daily Powerpuff show, my sister made friends with a girl, we'll call her Val, she was adventurous, fearless, and had a ton of barbies! She was about 4 years older than my sister, who was 2 years older than myself. So, Val was 6 years older than me, putting her at the age of 12.
She seemed nice enough, at first. The more we would hang out with her, the more we came to realize her own personal traumas. I can't remember how it began, but she began coercing me to do things with her. I was confused. I wasn't sure where to go...or what to do...all I could think about is what my parents would tell me: Don't let any boys touch you inapropriately! I couldn't remember them ever saying anything about a girl?
At the age of six, I was unable to distinguish what was happening...my sister would usually be asleep before Val would begin touching me. At age 7, she tried to guide me into touching her, but I became sick and vomitted. Val's mother woke up, and I found my ticket home. I was terrified. I didn't know what to do. She wouldn't leave me alone. I remember asking Val if what was happening was right...she said "yeah, we are family...it's okay...don't worry." I became clouded...I didn't know which way was up or down.
In between all these encounters with Val, I began to develop a constant sickness. Any time I would be in the car, I would throw up; any time I would leave my home, I would throw up. I stopped eating certain foods, and was very skinny. My mom thought it was simple car-sickness. She had her eyes on me all the time, except when me and my sister would be at Val's house. My mom, to this day, says that from the start of that friendship...she knew there was something wrong...but she was always too tired or overworked to dig deeper because I seemed fine. She still holds this guilt inside herself.
Through ages 8-12 she began to condition me into thinking I was attracted to the same sex through repeated rituals of sexual acts. Every time they occurred, I would become physically ill. I couldn't stomach it. Finally, Val moved far enough that my parent's cut off the friendship between her and my sister. Until my sister got a text from Val saying that I had come out to being Lesbian to her. I was questioned by my family...and I panicked. I didn't know where to go. I got into an argument denying the false text message, and buried myself deep within my own mind.
In middle school, I went into a depression. I wore sweat pants, and spoke to no one. I felt a pain in my stomach that was indescribable. I would go to school, come home, and sleep. For hours. I would go to the school nurse periodically to try and fake illnesses to get my mom to pick me up. Seldom did those work. I tried to immerse myself in music, and became apart of the school band.
By my freshman year in highschool, I found myself slowly rehabilitating. I was pulling myself out of my slump. Until a met a girl, who befriended me. She was sweet, and cool, and I thought: HEY, I can learn to be a normal high school chick! She invited me for a sleepover, and I accepted. I felt it was time I let go of my past. We ate yogurt, and watch movies. It was cool. Until she pushed herself on me. I can still feel her breath on my ear telling me "it's okay...you're really beautiful...don't worry about it." I froze. It was happening again. I let her do what she wanted and drew the line any time she got between my legs. She fell asleep, and I vomitted for about an hour in her bathroom, and stayed up the rest of the night. I begged my mom at 6 in the morning to pick me up, that I was feeling sick. I left without a word to that girl...the depression continued for another two years.
Finally by my senior year in high school, I had a breakdown. After a long argument with my parents, in a vulnerable state, I told them "I did something bad...really bad..." My mom asked "did you have sex with a guy?" I shook my head..."it's really bad, mom...you'll never forgive me...." my mom began to become more acutely aware of what was going on. "do you want to write it down?" I nodded. She brought me a piece of paper, and left the room for about 30 seconds. I handed her the paper with shakey handwriting that read: I WAS MOLESTED FOR 6 YEARS.
My mom looked up from the paper and asked "Who?" The pain her voice was unbearable. I fell back onto my pillow and began to cry violently. My mom ran from my room and got my dad. They both layed with me, consoling me, until I fell asleep. They told my sister...she felt the most guilt...having been unconcious while most of these encounters with her friend happened right beside her.
My parents wanted to bring charges on the two women who were responsible, but I declined...because I knew I wouldn't be able to tell countless people, in detail, what happened to me. This is the most detailed accounts of what happened to me....
More and more people experience this horror day after day...and don't come out...or speak out for help. It's difficult...but it's something that must be done. Although I still live with my day to day struggles with not being able to give myself to someone, and struggling to leave the house sometimes...I still see progress after years of counseling. Its hard to find help...but help needs to be offered...we need to let people know that speaking out about it, is not a bad thing...its the right thing. We are not what happened to us in the past...
I hope that by speaking out about my past may help some of you who are among the GaG-ers here to speak out...find a friend...a parent, family you can trust...someone. You are not alone...and to the other people reading, I hope you see the problem that many people face on a day to day basis after traumatizing events...and learn to sympathize, be a friend, a stone, someone that a person who is hurting can trust. If they can't speak out, speak out for them. Help them get the help they need. We all stem from the root planted in the belief that we can handle everything on our own...everyone needs helping hand, sometimes.
Most Helpful Girl