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I was used and abused by my next door neighbor's teenage son for two years, from age 4 till age 6. I was friends with his little sister and him and he gained my trust after my mom and I moved into the house. The first time it happened we were in the living room and he got my Simpsons sheet from my room and we went under the sheet and he unvelcroed his board shorts and took his penis out and put my head on it, telling me to pretend it was a bottle, it was frequent between oral and anal and I didn't understand how bad it was, my mom caught it finally and it stopped. My mom was going to press charges but his dad was a former police officer and my decided to not go through with it. As a child afterwards I moved forward, in my teens and adult years, I'm 36 almost 37, relationships have been difficult. I'm have not been intimate with any woman.

I was told my dreams never mattered. I now want to be an actress and help raise awarness since I was raised by my dad who knew everyone and was made out to be the good guy and no one cared or believed me when I spoke out about assualts or abuse by my parents or peers. I say NO MORE feeling unheard no matter who knows who, we should be seen, validated, and heard. Name

I grew up with an immense fear of men, of which I never understood why... Until I reached my midlife and developed a serious physical ailment, only then was my horrific secret unveiled! During my childhood, I was often left in the care of my caretaker as my family member was busy nurturing my younger, sickly brother hence I became independent from a young age. Nature and my pets were my solstice. Growing up I was shy and introverted, and always felt like I never belonged. Deliberately I would avoid contact and conversation with all men, including family members. Constantly I bit my nails, until they bled sometimes. As a teenager, my caretaker would belt me until I was bruised for my insolence apparently?! My family obviously heard, yet chose to be silent due to their fear of him. An inner rage developed towards him and eventually I completely despised him. One day in my mid-forties I awoke with a serious frozen neck. As a Holistic Practitioner, I knew that this was an underlying emotion which was manifesting as a physical ailment so I decided to seek psychological aid. After a few months of regular sessions, the deepest dark secret was revealed... I had been sexually abused by my caretaker since childhood. YES that was a heavy pill to swallow, and of course more therapy was required to heal my painful, inner child wounds. The horrific shock caused various emotional reactions from depression, anger, shame, guilt and even suicidal thoughts. However, a power deep within me gave me the strength to slowly and gently work through it on a daily basis, thanks to the love and support of many wonderful people including close friends. Yoga, meditation, journaling, breathwork, energy therapy and different holistic modalities assisted my transformational, healing journey. I also believe that my continued faith guided me as well, to find inner peace and forgiveness towards my abuser. A year later I approached my family member about my abuse, and as shocked as she was she could still not support me emotionally. My dysfunctional childhood could never be erased, however I chose to make the rest of my life the Best of my life from that day onwards! After some time. the day eventually came when I had the courage to face my abuser. I looked him in the face with absolute compassion, that's when I realised that I was completely healed. My path hereon would be creating the life I dreamed of. His choice of denial was his issue! On Date, I appeared for the first time publicly on stage as a Speaker to share my story of Name of Presentation' at the Location of event. It was utterly life-changing. Standing at the podium, my legs were trembling and hands were shaking, yet I felt this Divine presence supporting me and giving me the courage. I was not alone. I chose to speak my truth and be the voice for the voiceless! The audience were fortunately patient and understanding as I opened my heart. Since then I was inspired to create my personal brand 'Brand Name', which offers support, healing and guidance to those who've been sexually abused and endured domestic violence. I'm also a Organization NameAmbassador for the prevention of Children's sexual abuse, which is unfortunately ripe in today's society. My passion is to continue to share my triumphant, transformational story on webinars and podcasts worldwide. The time is now for victims to come out of the closet and be the change they wish to see in the world, so they too can live the life of freedom and peace that they truly deserve. My mission is to encourage other victims to no longer be silent. Speaking my truth was my path to emancipation. Recently I co-authored a book, Book Title - The voices of survivors' which will be published on Date. Writing it was another beautiful, healing experience for me. I gained even deeper, inner peace. Even though my trauma was horrifying and I was scarred both physically and emotionally, I was determined to transform my pain to purpose and my wounds to wisdom so I'm no longer the victim but rather the Victor in my life! I am living proof it can be done and proud to say I've never needed to be on medication; Holistic therapies greatly aided my metamorphosis. Nowadays I am more confident, brave and compassionate, appreciating every day of my new-found existence! " OUR TRUTH DESERVES TO BE REVEALED; OUR PRESENCE WARRANTS TO BE ACKNOWLEDGED; OUR VOICES NEED TO BE HEARD AND EXPRESSED." - Name

It’s difficult to come to terms with being a “victim”., especially if you’re a strong person in your work environment, extended family environment, and community. Who would believe that an outspoken, bold, intelligent, leader in their family (to the outside) who would never stand for anyone around them being demeaned let alone abused in their presence, wouldn’t be able to stand up for themselves to their partner? Seems like an unlikely scenario to most. There are so many various answers to that but my personal answer is common with a lot of victims…my children. Is it fair that, if I (we) leave that they’ll never know their father like they would if I stayed? As a Mother I would do anything for my children, including dealing with things I never would if I didn’t have children. If I leave am I not “strong enough” to just deal with what he says/does? I can’t be weak in front of my children. Fast forward 16 years from the time I left the house with my children. At first, things were amicable because he couldn’t let anyone in on his true self. He couldn’t show what he said and did to me and eventually to one of our sons, for fear of being “found out”. Him finally losing the control he once had over us abruptly ended that facade. One night during his visitation time, my one son sent me a frantic message on a texting app; my son had to make a fake account to text because their father didn’t allow them to speak with me on his time. He told me that “Daddy just beat up ___”, my other son. Thinking maybe he just spanked him I asked a few more general questions, not truly believing what he was saying. It was apparent by his answers that he was not being dramatic or embellishing. I asked if he wanted me to call the police and he said yes, at which time my heart sunk and my mind went to places I shouldn’t admit to in writing. The police and CPS showed up to his house. That was the last private visitation the boys ever had with their father, per a court ruling. For the entire 16 years since I left him, we have been in Family and Supreme Court at least twice each year and have had 13 separate restraining orders against him, his family members, and his new girlfriend. A victim’s advocate went to the court hearings with me for support that I didn’t realize I needed (but I didn’t know how to tell my lawyer no thank you to the offer of help at the time). He continued the mental abuse by attempting to destroy my reputation to friends/family/people I’ve never even met, on social media and in our community. He claimed “parent alienation” and that I was mentally unstable and a danger to the children. The court had previously awarded me 100% physical and decision-making custody/rights but I wasn’t about to put my children’s business on social media to defend myself to people who were too naive to see through his smear campaign. When he no longer had the means to physically or mentally abuse the boys and I, he turned to financial abuse. Refusing to pay child support, canceling the boys’ health insurance (that he was court ordered to provide), and bringing me to court for frivolous and repetitive claims just so I had to take off of work and pay for a lawyer. He told the Judge that if he didn’t get private visitation with his kids he wasn’t paying for them. Needless to say,, the court never awarded him visitation after the assault on our son. For 11 years the boys have had control of speaking with him/seeing him if they chose to and felt safe enough to. They haven’t seen him once and they are now in their 20’s. In realizing that we would never be able to count on him providing for the boys as he ethically should, I returned to college to earn a more sought after degree that had more stability and flexibility than my career at the time. He had told my son at one point that I’d “never be able to take care of them without him”, which ended up being my motivation at the hardest points of earning two new degrees. To illustrate the financial situation, he still owes me over $60,000 in back child support, medical, and college fees but with my new career (and some good old-fashioned hard work and stubbornness) I increased my salary by over $120,000/year; that was 8 years ago. It has never been about money, it will always be about principle and his previous statement basically telling my children I was useless as a parent (merely because of money) without him. I had to prove him wrong. I gained back the control. Control over myself, my boys’ future, and my personal financial situation. It’s hard to leave. It’s scary to run a million negative scenarios through your head of what will happen if you do leave. Will you be able to feed your kids, have a roof over their head, or be able to deal with all the stress without turning to negative coping skills? You can. I did. Millions of single parents have. Is it easy? Absolutely not, not one day of those 16 years has been easy but everyday has been worth it. My boys unfortunately saw a lot of the bad things that went on even when I thought they were shielded from it. They also saw me never give up FOR THEM! I never wanted to be a “single parent” even as a divorced parent. I wanted to co-parent and be cordial at events, no matter the situation. It didn’t end up like that and in the immensely sad words of my then 12-year old son, “he hurt us and doesn’t love us but he did teach me the most important thing in life, what kind of parent not to be”. I felt like a failure in life for picking him to be their father. You may be a victim in part of your story but you’re not a victim in your whole story. Thankfully I’ve learned that “victim” isn’t actually a bad word, it’s a temporary situation. Make a plan to leave, run it through your head 10 times or 100 times, perfect that plan, lean on who you can trust, and safely leave. You’re in control of the rest of your story!

Freedom is Glorious I've been working alone the past two days, and instead of taking out the scissors and cutting my hair, I took out an old CD of pictures and remembered how far I have come in this journey. I found pictures of the animals I left behind so very long ago ~ his pets who were like children to me ~ I teared up at their precious faces and remembered how much I love and miss them every day. Then I found some pictures of me taken in my old rental office on campus the night before my 41st birthday. And I was amazed at how clear and blue and full of life my eyes were in each picture.  The weight had been lifted from my shoulders.  I stood tall and proud.  The color was back in my face, and my face was fuller because I had finally started to regain the weight I had lost when my food intake was so limited on the weekends. My eyes sparkled in those pictures.  I could not stop staring at myself.  The pictures were proof that I was free.  That I was me again.  I looked at the CD and reached for a snack.  And I thought about how I can eat whatever I want now.  There is no watchful eye mentally counting my calories ~ keeping the cupboard bare.  I am no longer charged $20 to eat a home-cooked meal.  I am no longer ridiculed for not cooking that home-cooked meal myself. I can do what I want, say what I want, feel what I want, wear what I want.  I am not some dress-up doll used to cloak in leather to be propped up on the back of a motorcycle for the whole valley to see ~ no I am middle-aged now, often without make-up, and finally comfortable in my own body not to care if I am not perfect. Because perfect was never good enough anyway. I can speak again.  I have a voice.  I can have an opinion on anything I want.  I see my family again on all holidays.  I do not have to lie about where I am living.  Where I am going.  What I am doing. There is no shame anymore.  No more secrets.  Even the writing I am doing has eliminated the secrets from the people I care about the most. I think about all of these changes as I ponder what it is like for him to be sitting in jail right now.  To have his freedom finally taken away from him.  To be told what to do, when to do it.  And to be isolated from family and friends. It took the news of his jail sentence to wake me up to what I had blocked out for so long.  To bring those horrible memories back up to the surface in dreams, flashbacks, and fleeting moments of sadness.  To finally realize that I had to write down my truth, or they would never go away.  He would still be controlling me in my head through those nightmares, those flashbacks.  He would still be present in my life if I did not get rid of him by writing down all the ugliness of our time together and sharing it with the world. He never wanted me to be a writer.  He made fun of my dream every day.  And it hit me today that the irony of my life story is that one of the biggest stories of my life will now be about him.  And maybe there will come the book or the screenplay out of all of this ugliness that I have shared with the world.  Because if you can skim off the scum, if you can sand down the rust, beneath the surface of all that pain and sadness is the beauty that was once there ~ that was once my life ~ that was once me. Beneath the surface lies the freedom that never really left my side.  Freedom was waiting in the distance for me all along.  Freedom was God taking care of me through the whole ordeal and seeing me through to the other side.  Where life is precious and pure and sweet. Freedom led me to a new life where I can now help others as they had once helped me. Freedom came with its own price ~ the scars beneath the surface that may have scabbed over ~ in order for me to survive. But those scars are my battle wounds for my freedom.  I paid the price for a new life.  I earned my freedom.  I survived.