For those who aren't aware, I have another blog, which is my professional one:

Feel free to share and comment!

Erin Grace

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

The Day She Went To Work

After that first time "K" gave me a joint and a beer, beer was given to me any time I wanted it and honestly, I loved it. Drinking made me happy and helped me to forget. At 11 or 12, it didn't take much to get me drunk. I looked forward even more, to every weekend.

This was my first long weekend that I stayed with "K" and "S". He rarely worked, so he stayed home with me. It was not a major holiday, so "S" had to go to work. I had never been alone with "K". I was nervous. I was used to having her around too.

I remember watching the door close behind her and he was sitting on the sofa. It was about 8a.m. After only a couple of minutes he said, "Come over here." and patted the space next to him. Immediately my heart went into my stomach but I was too scared to say no. I went and sat next to him and tried to make small talk. He commented on my new haircut and said how pretty I was for being so young. It wasn't flattering, I knew something about this was wrong but I was frozen. He stroked my face and told me to relax, then he kissed me on the lips. My heart was pounding so hard and I kept wondering what to do. Really, I couldn't do anything. I was paralyzed. Petrified.

Anyone who has been around so much violence all of their life knows that when you're told how bad you are and go through so much, as I did, you never really have a chance to exercise your ability to say "no". It is taken before it has a chance to grow. With females I could say it but with men, I could not. I learned to put on a poker face and go along with anything.

 Maybe this will never happen again, I thought. I can't go back to my father. I got up. He grabbed me by the hand and asked what was wrong. I didn't know what to say except I believe I said it wasn't nice to do this to "S", as if I was a willing participant. I felt as if I was responsible because I was so scared to death to say "no". I felt as if I had done something to bring this on. He said, "She is okay with it. Really. She knows. I talked with her about it. You can be my girlfriend. Maybe you can be my other wife someday." That was something he would obsess about over the next couple of years....having two wives, among other insane things. My mind was racing. Just do whatever and pray time goes by as quickly as possible until she comes home. "No" is bad, it doesn't work. Maybe it's not so bad, at least he's happy to have me there, my father wasn't. Maybe "S" really was okay with it all. That must be it. If she left me with him, she must trust him.

He took me by the hand and led me into their bedroom. Their apartment was very small, so I had always slept on the sofa or the floor. Their bed. He told me to take my clothes off and I did. I sat on the floor by the bed, with my arms hugging myself, waiting for what came next. He took his clothes off and told me to get up on the bed. He had condoms. I don't remember much after that except the sex went on for a long time and it didn't hurt. I kept thinking it was supposed to hurt. Isn't that what everyone said? Why didn't it hurt?No blood either. Not until some time later, did I begin to have memories of when I was younger, in the back of that van with my fathers tenant. I closed my eyes and just laid there, opening my eyes made it too real. "Remember, she knows about it but don't talk to her about it, she'll get jealous." he said.


  1. This heart wrenching. Thank you for telling this story. It is incredible how long it takes to learn that "no" is okay. Hopefully we as a nation (a world, really) are finally catching on. I taught my daughter to scream it, even if she thinks she might get in trouble. She has actually had to do that and thank God, that one simple lesson and permission saved her from a lifetime of hell. Let this blog empower people to get vocal about this stuff. <3

    1. "No" often brought violence for me, so it was dangerous to say it. Many times I've had confused reactions from others who just don't understand. When you get "burned" enough, you stop saying it. I hope my writing encourages others to be proud of who they are and not be ashamed of what they did to survive (physically and emotionally). Thank you so much, Cairn.

  2. I understand that feeling of not being able to say no, not really understanding what no means, or that you have the power to say it.

    He was very manipulative with you, saying that S knew, and was okay with it happening. That served to further silence you. I'm sorry this happened to you.

    Thank you for speaking out and sharing your story with the Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse.