My Story: I Wanted To Talk About It But I Couldn’t. I Blamed Myself For Letting It Happen
April 29th, 2016 / 3:29 PM
“My childhood dream was to be just like my father. The masculinity, the strength, the integrity, the honour and courage. He was the perfect example of a man and I wanted to be just like him. However, this dream shattered when I was 12. That was when it began, my life’s nightmare. I remember how my mother used to protect my sisters from the world, worrying for their honor. As for me, she said ‘He is a boy. He will be fine’.
She didn’t realize how wrong she was. My innocence was stolen by a man my family trusted – a caretaker, the man I was raised in front of, our batman. He executed his plan so perfectly. Slowly gaining my affection, he would tell me how big and strong I was. He would teach me magic tricks and make me promise that I would keep all his secrets. And then he played the biggest magic trick up his sleeve, the trick of deception. He molested me while babysitting me one day when my parents were not home. He told me how this had to be our secret or I would get in trouble. And then the series of assaults began. I wasn’t even sure about what was happening. What began with a grope turned into sickening acts. He would force himself on me and muffle my cries, telling me how the pain will eventually go away. And it did. After months, I gave up.
It became a chore of my life. He would be this nice caring figure in front of everyone but would find time to abuse me in private. What was -worse than the physical pain was the emotional trauma. I would sit under the shower for hours trying to wash away this filth. The guilt of not being able to stop this slowly broke my self-esteem. After 2 years of continued abuse, he left us to work for another family, leaving me wrecked forever and the opposite of who my father was – weak, submissive and full of fear.
I kept quiet about it because I was disgusted with myself. I blamed myself for letting it happen. By the time I hit teenage, I knew I wasn’t like the other boys. I started feeling dirty and ugly. While my friends had crushes, I couldn’t find myself physically attracted to anyone. I would look for emotional attachment but could never get over the fear of intimacy and trust issues. I could never have a close relationship, even with friends.
I wanted to talk about it but I couldn’t. I knew no one would understand. I was afraid I’d be blamed. Finally, I turned to God and found peace. I knew God had forgiven me when I finally met someone who found her way into my heart. Not only did we connect emotionally, I was attracted to her. For the first time in life, I felt normal. I knew this was it. She was the one. When I told her about my past, I broke down and she picked me up. I felt confident, understood and loved. I could finally trust again, and made a few close friends. It took me years to finally muster up the courage to put this in words. And the reason I did it today is to raise awareness.
To tell people how the struggle destroys you. How not being able to even talk about it slowly eats you from the inside. How it hurts when you’ve to hide everything from friends and family because you know no one will understand. How our society is built upon stereotypes. How the victims blame themselves just because they’re afraid to be different. Please try to understand others and don’t judge so that no one has to give up hope on life again.”
Source:Humans of Pakistan
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