Child Abuse Story From Hanna W

by Hanna W
(New Zealand)

When I was thirteen my mother physically abused me. We were in the car driving home, she kept asking me these questions about my dad, like weither or not I cared if my dad and his ex-girlfriend got back together, but I said no because it wasn't my choice, nor was it my life, then she suddenly got all mental and then thought I was texting my dad but really I was just on facebook. She stopped the car and I tried to get out but she grabbed my hair and pulled me back towards her. My 14 year old sister was at the back telling her to leave me alone but my mother just continued to try get my phone. I screamed, but then she slapped my face hard about 2-3 times. She started to scratch me, but then later we went back to my aunties house so that she could tell lies.

other times she threw things at me, punched me and hit me badly. They were really sore and I think she needs help but she just wont get it. she blames everything on me, when really its herself, especially when shes taking her problems thats got nothing to do with me out on me.

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Child Abuse Story From Unknown Gril

by Unknown Girl
(Illinois, USA)

My story is not as bad as many others. My mother and my step-father got married when I was six years old. My mother got pregnant and had her first son when I was 7 years old. Once she had him i started to be treated different than before. I didnt know how to react. My mom ended up pregnant again and had a girl a year later. That's when my abuse began. Both my mother and step-father got really bad into drugs. They started to treat me like i ment nothing to them. I would get beat for the smallest things. I was forced to grow up at a very young age. I had to wake up with the kids in the moring to take care of the kids. I was the parent for my brother and sister. I did everything. I cooked, cleaned, bathed them, got them dressed. Yet, i still was beat. I decided I would never miss a chore or not do anything I was told to do. Each time i did forget I would be beat. I still to this day have a scar on my forehead from my step-father. He would bribe me into not telling anyone what he did to me. He would buy me so many things and do anything for me. If I did tell and he found out I would get beat worse. I never was taken out of that environment. I was beaten from the time I was six years old until I was 13. I had to move to my grandparents because of how bad I was beat. Then there I was beat as well. Child abuse is something I COMPLETELY disagree with. I know how hard it is to be told you're worthless. And not to feel loved. Please STOP child abuse. )':

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Child Abuse Story From Linda S

by Linda S
(Oregon, USA)

I was emotionally abused and neglected by my mom and physically abused by my dad and I'd prefer the physical abuse any day: 
I'd hate to be her my mother because I believe there is karma and her day is coming.

Let's see my mother told me she never wanted me. She said I gave her varicose veins when I was born and when I was 40 she told me she wanted me to kill myself and I tried.

I needed glasses I couldn't read the big E when I was 14 she was forced to take me begrugingly to the doctors and he yelled at her because of my eyes a week later she put me in a foster home. I thought I'd get redemtion silly me.

The things she has done to me I could go on for hours about, but she really didn't want me we never bonded I was never loved. Now to get my sanity back I have to forgive her, pray for her, confess my feelings of ill will towards her etc.

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Child Abuse Story From Renee C

by Renee C
(Ontario, Canada)

He Got Away with Everything: 
My father was never punished for what he did to all of us and it makes me angry still, years later. I'm fifty years old and still wish he had gone to jail, but at the time, back when the incest came out, I was told I could not charge him because he only touched me once. My other two sisters wouldn't charge him because they were still confused and pretty screwed up. Back then there also was a statute of limitations so my mother just used the incest as the reason for the divorce. Now, this past year I met a brother and two sisters from dad's other family and found out he molested the oldest sister when she was young too. All in all my father molested four out of six daughters that he had when we were children and he was abusive to all ten of us. He had two families going at once. He was a conman and pathological liar. He still doesn't believe he did anything bad to any of us. I don't think I will be able to let it go until he dies. I get so angry that he got away with everything.
Thanks for letting me vent.
Renee C

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Child Abuse Story From My Inner Child

by My Inner Child
(Texas, USA)

My parents divorced when I was nearly 2, leaving my mom to almost instantly meet another guy who became my step-dad. They married when I was nearly 5 and I am told that he loved to play with me and did so very often. I remember none of this but if that is true it stopped abruptly because I have no real memory of either of my main care-takers playing with me. I feel now that he was grooming me. It disgusts me to even type that word, because I know the horrid meaning. I feel like he was putting on a front with my mom to impress her and get me to trust him.

Both of my parents were very mean to me...emotionally and sometimes physically. I was their scape goat.

The sexual abuse started, from what I can honestly recall, when I was about a sophomore in high school. I have a lot of shame about it happening then because to this day I tell myself, "I should have been smart enough to stop it". But honestly, I was frozen. So shocked, I was frozen and couldn't move or talk. At first he would walk in on me while I was dressing or showering. This progressed to him asking me to "model" any swimsuits or dresses I purchased. Then he started asking me to massage him. Then he started buying me bras and would bring them home requesting me to try them on to ensure they fit right. Of course none of this happened when my mom was home (she worked a lot and went to school), except not giving me privacy. He made it a rule that no doors could be locked anywhere in the house except the front door, so if he wanted in, I had no control over it. Throughout all of this, he also would find ways to rub up against me - like carrying in groceries or passing in the hall.

There are 2 instances where I recall for certain, that I declare where I was sexually abused without a doubt and today, I say that was one too many. I used to think that just because I could only remember two, that I was "lucky" and it wasn't all that bad. I now know its likely I can't recall a lot and even just ONCE can really mess up a person. (I want to scream as I write this).

One time when he took me to school, it was sort of cold and I was wearing a skirt. As we were waiting for the car to heat up, he asks if I know the warmest part of my body. I say my head. He says actually, its between your legs. I felt really weird at that time. He then says let me put my hands between your legs to get them warm and you can do the same to me. I didn't put my hands on him but he put his on mine and I sat there for what felt like forever and finally said I didn't think that was a good idea. He didn't touch me on my vulva, from what I remember, but it was close and definitely inappropriate. The other time, I was asleep and a figure opened my bedroom door, illuminating it by the hall light. I woke up and heard this figure walking to my bed. Of course I was terrified so I just lay there not really knowing what to do. I was also half asleep and thought maybe it was a dream, so I pretended to sleep to see what this figure would do. They waited a bit and then sat down on my bed and unbuttoned my pajama top. I rolled over and said no. They sat there again and they must have stayed there long enough for me to fall back asleep because I woke up to this person touching my bare breasts. I said No again, this time really angrily and they left. I said to myself, "I can't believe he did that", knowing full well who it was. After all, it was just the 3 of us living in the house. Who else was a male? I was in therapy at the time for rage issues (wonder why?!) and I told my therapist what happened. She of course wanted to speak to my mom and when she told my mom, she never ever acknowledged me. Not one single time. She did however ask him and he of course denied it but they got into a huge fight. It was never brought up again but his gross behavior continued until I moved out.

My step-brother (his son) is also another perpetrator for me. He abused me sexually when I was 4 and he was 8/9. I am pretty certain that is the first time I gave oral sex and I believe this is why, to this day, it is VERY difficult for me. I am still working on trying to come to grips with this, as we were both kids. However, it affected me. I am exceptionally sensitive to certain smells and being touched. In time...

I have done a lot of therapy and personal work on my abuse. My abuse has led to me having a Sex and Love Addiction (it's real, folks) with my addiction being mostly Love Avoidant. I am working on connecting in healthy ways with men in close relationships. However, sex is no big deal...I guess because it doesn't mean much to me. My abuse has led me to date men that have abused me, put myself into 2 situations where I was raped and contributed heavily to an inability to manage my anger.

I have done both individual and group therapies for my abuse and I can say yes, I have healed some. But I'm not 100%. This has for sure messed with me mentally. I fear having kids of my own some day because I know you can't protect your kids all the time, 24-7. I also would never want to leave them alone at my parents, so I would have to work around that. I am also very nervous around kids, since my recovery. I am hyper-sensitive to everything I do or say. I guess because I want to make sure I am as healthy and appropriate with every child I meet...making sure they feel safe around me...even if it is 5 min. I just want to really express I am a good person, you know? I guess because sometimes I feel like I'm just not. Residual feelings I suppose. And what is weird is I have an extensive background working with kids (not doing it currently) and none of this hyper-sensitivity ever came up prior to recovery. I guess it just opens up stuff for me. I hate it sometimes because I feel like the bad guy for even thinking of my own abuse around kids. But I guess if I'm healing it might be natural. I also ask God to bless and protect each child I come in contact with because I wished someone would have done that for me.

My feeling of "not good" has really affected my relationships but I'm working really hard to make changes. I start an anger management class soon and I just think my recovery will be ongoing. At least I'm working to break and change patterns.

If you even have a hint of wondering if you were, I really send you a virtual hug, and want you to know, it will arrive when you are ready. And nothing, I mean nothing is ever worse than the actual acts. Remembering might be hard but the worst is over.

Light and love to anyone reading this.

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Child Abuse Story From Jane

by Jane
(Location Undisclosed)

I was out with a friend who worked for a government agency to do with child rights at age 20. She told me that she had illegally searched the records and found my name on the system, for sexual molestation. She told me the case was substantiated. I confronted my mum and she told me that she was going to tell me, but couldn't find the right words. We lived in a small town, and My mom told me that I was 4 and visited an elderly couple who lived across the street quite regularly. This day in particular, a neighbor saw me visit and went to tell my mom that he thought the couple were odd and to not let me go in future. Mom picked me up and took me home, asking me what I had done over there. I told her that the old man took off my underwear and touched me. I wasn't overly stressed, but mum called the police. They came and did an Investigation and I was checked for physical damage, nothing major was found. The man was charged with sexual abuse and he admitted to molesting me on a few occasions. Mom told me that she will never know how many times it happened and who else to, or if there was Any more serious and violent abuse that happened on previous visits. The man is dead now. He told the police that I was a sexual child which was why he did it to me, which my mum said is ridiculous. I cannot remember the abuse, though I do remember the look inside their house and smell. I cannot remember his face either. As a young child I lied a lot and I also remember touching one of my young friends (boys) penis and trying to put a stick into it. Also used to play sexual nurses at around 5-6 with a female friend. I am now a lesbian, I am not sure if my molestation had anything to do with that.
I often wonder what really happened any why i can't remember what happened.

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Child Abuse Story For My Sister

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

I don't understand: 
I am really nervous about writing this, I am 52 years old and just found out my own father who I adored throughout my childhood sexually abused my sister it tore our family apart but now my sister wants it all forgotten and is pretending it did not happen, myself and my younger sister who is 45 years old cannot we cannot figure out why is she pretending this never happened I have been unable to function for months because of this and now everything seems okay to her.

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Child Abuse Story From Anonymous69

by Anonymous
(Location Undisclosed)

I'm almost 31 and I am only just coming to terms with the horrific abuse I suffered as a child. I escaped the abuse at 19 years old when I left home and threw myself into work and building a life for myself. I never considered getting any help or talking to anyone about what happened. As far as I was concerned...it was horrific but I had escaped and I was going to do everything to build a good life for myself. So, I put it all behind me. Well, at least I thought I had.
Fast forward to age 30 and I'm suffering from post traumatic stress - which has included some pretty bad anxiety (getting better) and, now, depression.
I'm not in the habit of talking about my childhood - but I feel I need to release some awful memories (I am doing this through trauma based CBT {Cognitive Behaviour Therapy} too).

I was physically and emotionally abused EVERY DAY. Each day was a fight for survival. I have had 19 years worth of abuse - I have no idea where to start. However...I thought I could record just a few of the memories on here. Might help me come to terms with what happened.

I have an older sister and a younger brother. My mother was an aggressive, abusive alcoholic who took pleasure in beating me, abusing me emotionally by bullying and torturing me.

My older sister, not surprisingly, started to develop a personality that was similar to my mother's. My older sister was very jealous of me and was a bully to me and my younger brother. Many times, she would torment my brother, and I would have to step in to defend him. Anyway, my sister used to follow us around, whispering insults, telling us how useless, fat, ugly we were. It was all very, very sinister, thinking back. We would be doing nothing in particular...maybe playing with toys, reading etc and my sister would be there in the background bullying us and taking great pleasure when one of us caved in and cried.

Anyway - this story relates to an incident when I was around 8 years old. Although my...issues are mainly with the abuse my mother forced on me, this incident involves my sister and my mother.

It was around 10pm and I remember sitting on a chair trying to do some school work. My sister was in the background, whispering her insults and with her usual bullying talk. After maybe an hour or so of taking it (I NEVER snapped back, I was very quiet as a child), I couldn't take it any more. So, I got up out of my chair and pushed her back onto the couch. I told her to leave me alone or she'd be sorry. My sister, obviously in shock of me standing up for myself, then started to scream and pretended to get very breathless (remember, I had only pushed her a few centimetres onto a couch). She then ran upstairs to her evil twin (my mother). I could hear her screaming that I had pushed her. Then everything went quiet. I had no idea what was happening...but I knew something wasn't right. I started to feel very uneasy and wondered why my mother wasn't running down the stairs with a weapon to abuse me with. Nothing happened, so I just sat and waited. After maybe 10 minutes of sitting, wondering why everything was so quiet, I heard my mother walking down the stairs. She didn't have a weapon in her hand so I figured she was just going to use her hands or her shoes to beat me. I didn't try to defend myself by explaining what really happened - by this point in my life, I understood that my mother hated me and I understood that she would always side with my sister because she was the one with the most pleasing behaviours (bullying, abuse, swearing, insults). Anyway. My mother approached me - I still sat on the chair. I braced myself for a beating and remember that I started shaking.
However, instead of beating me, she got down on her knees in front of me and told me I had just killed my sister. She told me that my sister's dead body was upstairs on her bed and that I had killed her.
She was very...I keep using this word - sinister. But she was, her eyes were staring, she was whispering and there seemed to be a slight smirk on her face. She was also drunk.
So...after hearing this, I went into some kind of shock. I remember saying, 'no...no...no...no', I felt like I was losing my vision and then I suffered a panic attack. I was terrified. My mother just sat there and watched me without saying a word. I remember shaking - everywhere and just kept saying, 'no...no...no!'. My mother then got up to go - what's sad about this is that I begged her not to leave me alone. She told me to 'f* off and that I had to stay downstairs whilst she sorted out the undertakers to get my sister's body and also, she said she had to call the police.
She left me and went upstairs. I heard her sobbing over my sisters body.
A few minutes later, although I couldn't stop shaking - the panic attack wore off and I entered into some kind of shock again...strange - it was like I was numb, staring, shaking. I know that I only pushed my sister on the couch, however, I just couldn't think rationally. As far as I was aware, I had murdered my sister and I couldn't stop thinking about her dead body upstairs on my mother's bed.
I knew the police were going to arrive soon. I imagined they would come before the undertakers. I started to think about stupid things like, will they let me put my shoes on or will they just burst through the door screaming and just grab me. A million thoughts went through my head...what will school say? I will be in a prison - what will people think of me? No matter what, I understood that I had killed my sister and that, at that moment, life was never going to be the same again.
So, I sat on the chair and waited for the police to come and get me. It was quiet again upstairs. I sat and waited...and waited. I was very, very anxious - thinking that at any minute, I'd hear the police car pull up the drive...however, they didn't come. I even considered shouting upstairs to my mother to ask when they were coming to get me, however, I kept thinking about my sister's dead body so decided to stay put. I waited and waited and nothing happened. I was still in a state of shock and high anxiety and was panicking regularly. But no police or undertakers showed up and it was still quiet upstairs. Eventually, exhausted and defeated, I fell asleep - still sat on the chair.
When I woke up, it was daylight. I didn't remember straight away what happened...but then it hit me - my sister's body was upstairs and I had killed her. I had another panic attack and then started to hear movement upstairs.
The door to the room I was in was closed and I could hear movement behind the door. At this point, I started crying and getting even more terrified - I thought it might be the undertakers and I didn't want to see them and my sister's dead body.
All of a sudden, the door opened. And there stood my mother and my sister. I remember seeing my sister and screaming, thinking she was a ghost and that she was coming to haunt me. I screamed and screamed and started jumping up and down hysterical on the couch but my mother and sister stood there staring with smirks on their faces.
My mother then told me to go get ready for school.
And that was the end of it.

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Child Abuse Story From Amelia H

by Amelia H
(Location Unknown)

Moved by webmaster from comment thread: 
I am now 22 years old, Iv'e slept with over 60 guys before I turned 19, cheated on every guy ive dated, and I avoid emotional closeness even though I wanted it, but I find it hard to meet guys unless I am drunk and on drugs. Even though Im very attractive (I model) so its not a physical thing which makes it even weirder, and I also find it hard to meet friends. I can't make eye contact with people, its very difficult for me. I get anxious and tense when people are around and I sit inside all day when I can, playing video games. I avoid seeing people when they come over, and I hate being outside unless I am wearing sunnies and a hat. even at night sometimes. People make me angry. I wonder if this is normal.

I hate myself even though Im really pretty, I have cut my wrists and legs since I was 13 (only faint scars though, as I would avoid doing it cause mum would punish me for doing it, so I banged my head against walls instead and choked myself) and used to draw dead people since I was 10, and write gruesome poems which I won awards for. Even though I'm blonde, blue eyed and cute faced I am a gothic inside, haha. I try to hide it, you see. So dont ever judge on looks. People always judge me as being "up myself" because I'm hot, and find it strange to know I am self hating, depressive and anxious.

I suffer from anxiety, short temper, I used to beat up my toys and hurt kittens and dogs (I regret it now), I get extremely angry sometimes and start throwing things and screaming at my boyfriend (who I also slept with straight away when I met him, only he actually liked me for me and wanted to get to know me!) and he is very tolerant. If it wasnt for him id never know what love felt like, and id be much worse off than I am now, like I was before I met him. He has encouraged me to lay off the booze and gets me to be more social and happy, if he can.

I think about dying everyday, I have panic attacks, I am depressed 70 percent of the time, and for the past 10 years it added up to be a lifetime of depression so far.
I cant keep jobs, or friends, I can't pass school even though my teachers think Im gifted, because my moods are out of control and I think life is worthless. why study, we all die anyway? Life is just an accident of nature, nothing special.

While my parents would have physical fights when I was 2 onwards, I never saw or heard mum and dad have sex with each other- only other people, many many times over my lifetime.

When I was 9 I slept in the bed with my dad and his horrible girlfriend, and it was the only time and the last time I did (I forgot why, I was probably lonely or scared) and I woke up in the morning, and they had started having sex. I was completly awake by then because of the adrenaline of fear running through me, which probably doesnt help because that made me MORE alert and remember it more.His girlfriend said "how do you think other people in asia do it?" and stuff, justifying it and dad went for it. I disrespected him enormously after that and never knew why. He has bashed me twice in my life, and he also suffers depression, he doesnt mean to lose it.

We get on now, but whatever, Im depressed and the damage is done. My mum is also very distance (she was raped as a child by a relative) and I dont blame her for her own shortcomings. She tried her best with me. I disappointed her by being a "s**t and not finishing school" as she says.

She knows I witnessed her bf, and my dad, beating her, plus the alcoholism growing up, but doesnt know my dad had sex right next to me when I was 9, and that I saw him having graphic sex in our loungeroom multiple times with many women. His girlfriend who made him f**k her next to me also would do and say other sexual and yuck things in front of me as a child. I wonder if this explains my weird behaviour, because as a young kid I was so happy, until that happened. I went on to be in numerous abusive relationships and I was assaulted and sexually molested by guys my own age on many occasions, while I was sleeping etc but I blame myself.

I am "over it" so to say, but Im not really over it, because my personality has been coloured by this, as someone else explained. My whole life has been coloured by these experiences.

Both my parents are very clever (my mum is a lawyer and dad is an author)- albeit damaged emotionally, and raised me to be smart too, even though they also didn't realise what effects the abuse had on me. Maybe I am just sensitive and "tortured" like all artists, or do I have valid reasons to be messed up? Can I heal this? I hate being lonely and scared all the time. I want to open up but I just freeze when I am around people and start gritting my teeth. I dont know why I am so crazy.

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Child Abuse Story From Unhappy and Resentful Mom

by Unhappy and Resentful Mom
(Texas, USA)

Sexual Abuse...my nephew hurt my son: 
On Wednesday this past week me, my son and daughter went to Wal-Mart. We got out of my truck and saw my mother, sister, and my mother's bestfriend walking down the same row of cars we were on. I diverted my children from them because I don't speak to them anymore. We were in there maybe 15 min and went to pick my oldest son up from high school. We got home and my 8 year old son asked to speak to me. He proceeded to ask me if I remember my sister and her son and then said he's gay. I asked why and he said when he was 4 he put his penis in his mouth. I freaked out in my head but consoled my son. When he was 4 and my daughter was 5 I kept my nephew so my sister could go to a Christmas party in another town. I came home from work @ about 730pm. I sold cars at the time. I brought home pizza for them. I talked to my husband for a few minutes and went inside, when I walked in my 4 year old walked around the corner with his pants undone and he was pulling them up. I asked what he was doing and my nephew said he had to go to the bathroom so he helped him. My 4 year old said no you did this. I freaked out and made him go outside. I called my sister to come get him and went searching my house. I found condoms, which no one in our home used at the time, plastic tampon applicators in my daughters closet. We all confronted him and he admitted to "touching" them. I'm scared my daughter has repressed her memories just like my son did until recently @ Wal-Mart. She was diagnosed with adhd and anxiety disorder and takes meds daily. I wonder if she could be repressing too. Why did he remember that? I want my nephew to fry for this. I'm having a hard time with dealing and its starting to consume me. I don't know if should I have my 9 year old daughter checked to see if her hymen is broken.

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Child Abuse Story From Carrie

by Carrie
(Alabama, USA)

I was adopted when I was only three days old, when I was three my mother pulled me across a parking lot leaving huge cuts on my knees and she was called for child abuse but the police did nothing about i becUse they had no prove of this and I denied the abuse because I had no idea what was gojng on.....My mother never truly loved me when I was old enough to understand she told me that I was adopted and was not hers. I am fifteen years old now and a lot has changed. in eighth grade my best friend told me that my mom was not right.My mother ysed to scream and yell at me and call me worthless and say I was nothing. In seventh grade I was only a few min late to her car and on the way home she began hitting me and pulling my hair while driving and when I cried she would only laugh and say that i needed to stop crying becauze it was a sign of weakness. After my frined told me I knew I had to tell an adult and I couldnt tell my father because he only just protected her. i told my teachser about it my teacher did all she could but she said I would have to tell someone in my family and thats when i drew the line. During this i began to cut my wrists because it made the pain go away. My friend made me stop the cutting for a while but during the summer I got into a car wreck and my aunt is my chiropractor and my friend made me tell my aunt about my moms abuse. At first my aunt could do jothing I thought it would be the same as last time just having someone to talk to about my mother and father but it wasnt. My dad found out about everything and I told him I wanted my mother gone because she was hurting me but he couldnt let her go. i began cutting cutting again onowinv that it would be like all my Parents other fights when my mom would screAm and yell and my dad would just forgive her like what she did had no negative affect on me. I began having to live with my aunt and uncle because of the law and my counseler believed I shouldnt see my mother. i stopped the cutting because my aunt and uncle told me I couldnt stay If I countinued and I did not want to go back home. me and my aunt got really close and my dad finally sae how terrible my mother got it was gojng well until my dad started guilting me about not going home and ruining everyones life thats when I began to cut on my hips my friend told my aunt about the cuts and she always asks me about them and the other night she began to cry saying that she hated when I did it and I felt so terrible I felt as if I was ruining everyoned life just as my dad had said and I am beginning to now have severe suividal thoughts but never act in them. Life Isnt very easy anymore I dont feel like i ever got to be a real kid.

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Child Abuse Story From Jacob

by Jacob
(Virginia, USA)

WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE DEPICTED: 
My dad hit me and told things that put me down, everyday. Now, I'm fifteen. He's been abusing me ever since I entered preschool. My mom never knew about it, my older brother didn't believe me, and my sister just laughed when I told her. Yes, I'm a sophomore in high school, so I always thought telling someone would be childish and pointless... but until now, I've been hiding my story...

I'm scared of him. The man that comes in through the front door at 3:00 PM everyday, in a suit with his tie properly in place. Everyone looked up to him- respected him. He was the 'ideal' father, that everyone loved. He was a psychologist, which was pretty ironic. His eyes were as cold as ice, and his hands three times bigger than mine. I always had small hands. Sometimes, when I see him, my whole entire body just starts trembling and shivering. I can't even lay my eyes off him, or move from a place. He would walk down the main hallway, and into the living room where I usually am doing my homework.

When my mom isn't home and when my siblings were at tutoring, he would always hit me. When he knows I get anything under 95% on something, he hits me. When I don't do something right, he hits me. When he's mad or upset, he hits me. And the times where I don't get all A's in school, he beats me to no end. There were bruises, scratches and scars all over my body. I'm always too scared to change in the guy's locker room at school, so I got excused from gym. I never wore shorts or short sleeves or flip flops, because my arms, legs, and feet would be covered in 'violence.' Yesterday, was the day I couldn't handle it anymore.

He came in, his feet stomping on the ground, shoving a piece of paper into my face. My father asked what that was, and I took the paper and read it. When I was halfway done, my eyes widened and my mouth was agape. My heart was beating so fast- yet dying at the same time. Sweat was starting to form on my forehead. I looked up at him, with hopelessness and fear. My hands trembled, and I dropped the paper. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and raised me into the air, my toes barely touching the floor. His mouth was wide and open, spit flying out. I didn't hear any words, because all I could think of was the pain that I would feel any moment soon. He shook me violently, my neck cracking and his nails in my skin. Throwing me onto the floor, he fiercely walked to the kitchen, and pulled out a wooden baseball bat from behind the fridge. I stared at it, my eyes beginning to water and burn. I had to run. My legs twitched, and I stood up, walking backwards until my back hit the wall. My father stepped closer and closer to me, his fist clenching the bat. I got onto my knees, and begged him for forgiveness. I didn't want him to hit me. Not again. Tears left my eyes like water breaking open a dam. My words were trailing off into 'Don't do this' and 'Don't hit me.' My hands covered my head- it was an instinct. I could hear the sound of the bat being raised quickly into the air, and I braced myself. The burning sensation of the bat pounding onto my back made me fall flat onto the ground, and I cried out. He kept on hitting me, stronger and with more force after every strike. The pain slowly grew into numbness, and soon, he stopped. My father dropped the bat onto the ground, his breathing heavy and fast. My crying and whimpering deafened me, as I could only make out the 'idiot,' 'useless,' and 'dumbf**k's that he yelled out. My back was tingling and aching, my body sore and stinging. He told me to stand up, so I did, not looking at his face. His hand slapped my right cheek and I stumbled over my steps, banging my waist onto the corner of the computer desk. I crouched over in pain, and my father punched me in the face and stomach. I tumbled over and laid on the ground, coughing and unable to move. My body was still trembling. Blood left from my mouth and onto the floor, which I had to clean up later. Content with his punishment, he yelled out something once more, and walked out of the living room, leaving me alone in pain.

This would happen to me every week, at worse three times a week. My fear and weakness drove me to become a mouse, and he was a tiger. The beatings he would give me, I never understood what they meant or why he did them. But today, I'm telling someone my life, my pain and the only thing I am afraid of. My father. Thank you for reading this. It feels good to 'tell' someone. Tomorrow I'm going to tell the police. I'm going to be free from his little leash that pulled me toward his abuse.

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Child Abuse Story From Corina M

by Corina M
(Nevada, USA)

I just turned 36 and it hit me hard! I have been free for 18 years, but after 16 years of abuse as a child I have made little progress emotionally. I am discouraged that I am still so affected by what happened so long ago. My natural father abandoned my mother when he found out she was pregnant with me. My mother married when I was 18 months old and that man adopted me when I was 5. My earliest memory is when I was about 2 and my mom held me out the window high in the air above a dumpster and threatened to throw me away, for not being potty trained. My "dad" hit me frequently, from as early as I can remember. I have a sister who is 2 years younger than me and my parents always punished me for anything she did wrong, because I was older and responsible for her actions.
I remember bedroom inspections a couple of times a week when we were 5-18 yrs old. If my dad was in a bad mood from work he would do a "bedroom inspection" and find some minimal thing out of place in order to beat us and call us pigs or other demeaning things. My dad is a clean freak and everything in the house had to be perfect. My sister and I always felt that he looked for reasons to hit us, because he enjoyed it. We were both overly willing to please and tried so hard to be perfect, but it was never good enough. I stole a pack of gum from the store when I was 4 and my mom found it in my room. She told my dad and he beat me so bad I couldn't walk or sit. I remember flying across the room and hitting my back on my dresser and falling to the floor. When I was 9 I wanted glasses and tried to fool the eye doctor, which didn't work. When my dad found out I lied, he beat me severely, and made me sit in the corner in my room for 3 days. He would throw hotdogs at me and say "You act like and animal so you will eat like an animal!" I ate, and slept in that corner for three days. I wasn't allowed bedding or to shower or change my clothes and I could only use the bathroom when my mother would escort me. I resented my mother for not standing up for me. In my early teen years, my grades started slipping, I suffered from terrible head aches and stomach problems. At 14 I had a test done on my stomach which revealed I had ulcers from stress. I turned to food to comfort me and gained a little weight and my dad would call me terrible names. I was sick every day, I was made to get a job at 14 and I was also made to hand every one of my checks over to my dad, never seeing a dime. We lived in the wealthy neighborhood, my parents had plenty of money but insisted on spending as little as possible on us. We were both teased at school for the clothing we wore. I was never socially accepted at school, because I was so quiet and that has followed me in my adult years. I am a social outcast, I feel very uncomfortable around people, and am always worried about what other people think or that I am not offending them in any way. When I was 14 I had to have my wisdom teeth extracted, which required being put to sleep. Some very strange things happened, The doctor made a comment about my nice teeth(in a creepy way), all of the doctors staff left while I was still in the back, I was extremely out of it when I woke up. I had to be carried to the car by the doctor. And I told my mom that my chest hurt, like the doctor had been sitting on me. She didn't think much of it, and a year later it came out that the oral surgeon was being sued by multiple patients for sexually abusing them while "Under". As soon as I heard this I got a sick feeling and KNEW that this had happened to me too. I told my mom that I wanted to tell my story to the law, and she told me to let it go. My parents didn't want to deal with the embarrassment this could cause. My dad kicked me out of the house a few times from 13-16 for things like my grades, or once for not hanging my bath towel back up properly. Once it was snowing and as I walked up the driveway not sure where I was going, I heard my mom call my name. I turned around relieved that she was finally going to stick up for me. She said "Don't forget your jacket." I started running away when I was 16 and spent most of my last two years as a child in juvenile hall, which was so much better than home. These are just a few of the wretched memories of my childhood. I was told over and over that I was a disgrace to the family, failure, filthy pig, embarrassment, disappointment. My sister tried to slit her wrists with a razor when she was 14 and the school contacted my parents. My dad said to her "How could you do this to me! Your such an embarrassment." My sister was the only person that loved me and my heart broke when he said that to her. Now we are adults and we both have many emotional problems. We also have a brother who's 10 years younger than me. All three of us hate to be touched. My brother and sister can't even sleep in the same bed with their spouses. I had my first baby at 20 after 2 miscarriages. I wanted nothing more than to have a baby that would love me unconditionally. Now my beautiful daughter is 15 and my perfect son is 13. They are happy and well adjusted although my son is very shy, but seems to be growing out of it. I am so proud of my perfect babies! My mother divorced my father when I was 18 and we have repaired our relationship. I stopped talking to my dad when I was pregnant with my daughter and after she was born I decided to forgive and forget. So we had a decent relationship, although he still tends to put me down. My father has always been an alcoholic, but became a fall down drunk about a year ago. I have worked very hard to leave my awful childhood in the past, but since he got "sick" a lot of things seemed to resurface. I have a great husband and two perfect children, but I am still so unhappy inside. I honestly don't think I really know what it means to be happy and feel at peace. Why am I so affected still by the way I was treated? Why do I always put everyone else's needs in front of mine? Why would I destroy myself to try to fix my drunken father after the way he's always made me feel? Why do I feel so insignificant? I'm a great mother and I know that...my perfect children are proof of that for me. So why can't I just be proud of myself for the things I have accomplished, instead of always thinking negatively about myself. My kids bedrooms are both a nightmare, but I can't bring myself to make them clean them. Am I hurting my kids by not making them keep their space clean? I'm a 36 year old emotional mess!! and very disappointed in myself for not being able to relax and be happy. My husband and kids are overly happy, and I feel like I just can't keep up with them emotionally.

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Child Abuse Story From John

by John
(Boston, Massachusetts, USA)

Broken Glass: 
From the earliest remembrance I have of my childhood I was emotionally and physically abused. I was born to southern parents who believed in swift physical discipline so as a young boy I recall beatings with switches and belts that left me physically and emotionally scarred. In fact, the physical beatings were almost always accompanied by verbal shots at my self esteem. I was physically abused by my mother and my father, but the worst was probably the verbal and emotional abuse I took from my mother. I was told by her that, "you'll never have nothin', and you'll never be nothin'." Or, "you can't do nothin' right!". And lets not forget this one, "you destroy everything you put your hands on!". With amazing clarity I lived out every word that she spoke, and my life unfolded just exactly as she had predicted. Toward me my mother was cold, insensitive and aloof. She never hugged me, never kissed me, never displayed any show of love or affection toward me and as a result I'm not sure I know how to show love or receive it. Also, my father showed even less affection than she did toward me. This is how it was for me till the time I no longer lived with them at home. I can recall when I was in high school, being beaten by my father with his fists so severely that he split my face, and left me dazed and streaming with blood. On one occasion as a very young boy in grade school, my mother hit me with the buckle of a belt in the eye, such that my eye was swollen and closed. She never showed any signs of remorse, nor has she ever expressed regret for her actions. But back in the early seventies not much attention was paid to such things, not even in schools. Once, my dad got me out of bed around four or five in the morning in my pajamas and put me in his vehicle where he transported me to a remote area of a city park and he beat me until he was satisfied. On another occasion I was stomped and beaten with a broom handle. As a young boy I lived in constant fear of my parents who made it abundantly clear that nothing I ever did was pleasing to them. Everyday I lived with the realization that I would experience this terror at the hands of the people who claimed that this was for my good! These were church going people who claimed to love the Lord, yet didn't seem able to express that same love of Christ for me. I would beg God to kill them and rid my life of these terrible people. As a child I had no way of rationalizing what was happening to me, I just knew that I wanted it to stop. Around the age of twelve I turned to drugs as a way to self medicate and stop the pain that I was going through, but it only made my life spiral out of control. Now as a forty something adult, I still suffer the lingering affects of my past. My desire now is to be free!!

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Child Abuse Story From Catherine

by Catherine
(Colorado, USA)

Hell in a Home: 
I am 14 years old and I am abused. I'm trying to prove it to myself, so I looked up child abuse and this website came up. I decided to share what is happening to me. When I was 5 years old, my mom had an affair and left my dad. They got a divorce, and my dad was really angry. He started beating me like his dad used to beat him, and I had no idea what was going on. He would slap me, drag me across the room by my hair, shake me, and stuff like that. At the same time, my new stepdad would beat me with a belt and give me bruises. My mom would then start emotionally abusing me, telling me she wished I was never born, giving me excessive chores while she sat and smoked in her room, and yelling at me all the time telling me I was stupid and stuff like that. My mom and stepdad had twins when I was 8 and i raised the two girls all by myself. A year ago, my stepbrother who is 12 raped my half sister who is 6, and now he lives with his mom and his older sister who was sent to her mother's when my mother beat her with a belt and left a mark on her face when she was 10 years old. She is now currently 17. Have I mentioned that my mom and my dad are bipolar? No? Well i have now, except my dad refuses to admit it and doesn't take medication for it. Not that medication helps, because as far as I'm concerned, it doesn't My mom has also tried to commit suicide three times in her life. None of my parents, or whatever you would call them since I pretty much raised myself after 5, know or will let anyone convince them that they are doing anything wrong. I have 7 brothers and sisters, and they have all been abused at some point in their life. I am currently still living there and am only posting this because I would like my voice heard, even if all hope is lost. Believe me, it is, because when I was in second grade, I told my story to the principal and even talked to a Child Services worker, but it never got farther than that. I don't even know what happened. But I do know that I am stuck here for the next 4 years. At first, when I would tell my friends what goes on at my house, they would try and give me solutions, but soon realized there was nothing to be done and just tried to be supportive. I am not asking for your pity, or your advice, but I just ask that you listen to a 14 year old girl who has nowhere to go other than where she is now, in her own personal little Hell.

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Child Abuse Story From Shane

by Shane - A Molested Boy
(Texas, USA)

I was sexually abused starting around the age of 5-6 years old by a male cousin that was five years older than me. This lasted up until I was 14. Sadly when it first started in my state of confusion I thought it was funny and kind of cool. I remember it started out by him wanting me to sit in front of him on a chair in the garage at his house, he grabbed my hand and placed it on his erected penis. I swung around fast-like to see what was happening. After exchanging some conversation, I recall telling him we could be "sex partners". (I'm so embarrassed by this because it looks like this is what I wanted).

So I would stay the night at his house and he would make me fondle him while he fondled me. This happened on alot of occasions. Then one day when I was 7 or 8 he had this tent set up in his backyard for some odd reason. He told me to lay on my stomach and he pulled my shorts and underwear down and tried performing anal on me. Luckily at that time he couldn't get it to insert. After that he started to force me to do oral. I didn't know what was going on. He held my head down so I wouldn't "take my mouth off of it". I was confused and disgusted and at the same time choking.

So some time went by and I remember I had walked to his house after school when I was in the 5th grade so I was 10 yrs. old by this time. He was the only one home. He told me to go to his bedroom where he undressed me and himself. I was very reluctant to do this because I was starting to get the belief of homosexuality being wrong. (I have nothing against it). At school kids were teasing kids about being gay and stuff so I didn't like it. He begins forcing me to grope him and notices I'm not into it. He forced me. It hurt so bad I had screamed out in agony. I pleaded and begged him to stop and he wouldn't. Finally his dad had showed up from work and we quickly got dressed and I was in such relief that this agonizing pain had stopped. This type of abuse just continued on until I got into highschool and he got married.

I'm so thankful that I no longer have to endure this. I'm also ashamed that I had to deal with this. Now when I look back on it I wish several things. I wish I hadn't "acted like it was funny and kinda cool", I wish I would have spoken up and told someone. This selfish act upon his part has ruined my life. I'm now 30 years old. I have no real relationship as I do not allow people to get close to me. I don't like being touched, and I don't mean in my private parts. I mean I don't like people touching me period. I have severe self-esteem issues obviously. I think I have anxiety. And everyday I tell myself that life isn't worth living and I should end it. I'm not going to cause I want to live and exist, but I have to admit not wanting to exist.

I know I'm not the only one that has been violated or wronged. I know I'm not the only one. They say it's suppose to get better. That's what I'm waiting for, no matter how long it takes. If you took the time to read my story, THANK YOU. Sharing this has been a huge help. And if you're currently being abused please tell someone and get help now. Again thank you for reading my story.

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Child Abuse Story From Brianne

by Brianne
(Alberta, Canada)

I was at my cousins house, with my girl cousin and boy cosin, we were laying down in bed, and they all of a sudden told me they wanted to play 'house'... I said no because I was tired , but I obviously thought it was a different type of game then they were thinking. But they didn't take no for an answer. My girl cousin kept touching my vulva, I told her repeadily to stop. But she didn't listen, she put her hands down my pants and on my boob. My boy cousin just watched when I was asking him to get her to stop! She said that he was the nosi neighbor . She went to bed after she did this, and I went crying into another room where my oldest cousin was and told her what had just went on . I told my aunt the next day,
4 years later a 18 year old guy tried to rape me, he told me that i was beautiful and i look way older than I am, and perfect body and beautiful long blonde hair. He started touching me and my friend, and he got further with my friend, than me. I did whatever I could to get away from him. But he told us if we told anyone he would slit my throat....
I was 13!

My whole life I watched my dad beat my mom , he broke her back, and he tried to kidnap me and my sister, we were always so terrified of him, we would hide, and keep a baseball bat my the door. He does bad drugs, and steals. Hes always in and out of jail.
But what if he hurts us?!

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Child Abuse Story From Anonymous Teen

by Anonymous Teen
(Location Undisclosed)

Ever since I was a little boy ( age 4-5 ), I was physically and emotionally abused, and on one occasion sexually abused. I'm only 15 now, but my memory of my childhood is very hazy, but i'll try to share some of what I remember.

My dad has a very angry/controlling personality. I grew up as the youngest child with a brother/sister that were 5 years older than me, and there was a boy that was born 1 year before me but it was a miscarriage.

I always felt that my dad hated me and loved my sister/brother.Since i was 4 or 5, my sister/brother, being older would pick/fight with me alot. Whenever I tried to defend myself, my dad would beat me. Whenever I had a different opinion on something then my dad, I would get beat.

I would get whipped with belts, hit with shoes, coat hangers, wooden spoons/rollers, smacked around, and when i was older (7>), punched with closed fists and burned with a stove burner.

I remember the first time I got punched with a closed fist, i was 7 years old and couldn't finish eating a sandwich because i was sick. My dad yelled at me and tried forcing it down my throat. I was choking, and tried to get him to stop forcing it down my throat, thats when he punched me several times in the face, and left me with a black eye.

That wasn't the only time I got a black eye from him, i must have got around 10-15 black eyes, all of which were from being hit in the face , or getting my face slammed into a wall/table. My mom would always just stand by and watch, and my siblings always encouraged him to beat me , as they never liked me. When i got black eyes my mom would tell me to tell the teachers at school if they asked that i fell off the play structure.

I always felt them my family hates me , and still do. My parents spoiled my brother/sister and basically just ignored/beat me.

Two of the worst incidents of physical abuse i remember were when i was 9 and 10. When I was 9 I started smoking weed with friends, but realized how much happier it made me and started smoking it daily alone, to try to escape all the drama at home. If your wondering where a 9yo gets money to smoke weed daily, I was constantly stealing ipods from the change room in my school and later selling them. Well, my parents found out i smoked weed after my brother caught me and told them. My dad just grabbed me as soon as I got home, dragged me upstairs and threw me on his bed. He got ontop of me and kept punching me then kicking me in the face. I thought if I didn't cry and just stayed still that it would stop, but it lasted a good half hour , my brother and sister were standing watching encouraging him to keep beating me and my mom was just watching. When it was over I ran to my room and cried.

At the time i felt like i was going to pass out , and lost alot of blood, there was blood gushing out of nose and left ear, so much that on my shirt where my left shoulder was soaked in blood. I tried to wash my face of the blood and then went to sleep as i was so "woozy" at the time.

Another incident, when i was 10 I was caught stealing @ Walmart and brought home by the police. As soon as the cops left, my dad turned on the burner on the stove. I was crying/screaming at the time because i knew what he was going to do. He held both of my hands down on the stove burner. I was crying/screaming even harder but it didn't help, he held them there till he thought i had enough, which was what i know now were second degree burns. I was running my hand under cold water for hours after that, and was in pain for a long time. This was in the summer so no teachers/etc noticed.

I was never treated medically, my parents never brought me to the hospital. And i was always scared to tell anyone about what was happening.

Later that year, ( 10 years old ), i was at my friends house, which i knew for basically my whole life and was one of the only people i really trusted. Well he was 1 year older than me , and had a brother who was 17 or 18 at the time. His brother had his friends over, and i remember them holding me down and undressing me naked. I couldnt do anything as they were alot bigger, older, and i was always / still am small for my age. They kept looking at my penis, and eventually felt sorry for me and stopped when i started crying. My friend actually helped them pin me down. This was the first/only time something like this happened, and although it wasn't rape or anything , it was still embarrassing and i had no power of the situation or anything.

My parents always told me that they never wanted me and want the other boy instead ( the one that was "miscarried".)

When i was 13 is when i realized what was happening was abuse, and started having flashbacks of alot of events that happened. At this time i was still getting abused, but it wasn't much to me anymore as i would always compare them to the other 2 events and feel im lucky that it isn't that bad, and i kind of got used to it. I became really depressed and was appointed to a doctor/psychiatrist, who diagnosed me with social anxiety / insomnia / PTSD.

I am now 15, and trying to get my life back together after being kicked out of school / charged with robbery, which was very selfish/stupid. And is going to be on my record until im 22 years old.

I stopped smoking weed, stopped stealing/robbing, and no longer live with my parents, i live with an old family friend who use to babysit me when i was younger. Though I still get flashbacks daily ( some that are pretty traumatic that i just remember out of nowhere ) and am struggling with social anxiety / PSTD / insomnia.

I have been lurking this site reading stories before deciding to post my own. Alot of stories here really made me feel sorry for people and wished there was some may i can help stop child abuse.

I left out alot of detail, but i am not a good writer and don't really have the time right now to right a book.

Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this.

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Note from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Annabel

by Annabel
(USA )

I've been sexually, physically,and emotionally abused. Along with both of my parents neglecting me. But I'm confused why can't I feel any emotion at all. It's all like a blurry memory. I wonder if this is this normal. Because I'm really confused. I've been abused by my mom, uncle, 3 strangers and my best friend. I can't really tell u what happened to me but I wonder if this is even possible.

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Child Abuse Story From Wanda For My Granddaughter

by Wanda
(Virginia, USA)

Child's Fear: 
I have a granddaughter who has experience sexual abuse. I was the one she chose to confide in. Her mother has a problem with me. I chose to take actions right away to let her parents know, she told them but wanted me there for fear of how she would be received. Her mother showed no emotions even after going to the hospital. My granddaughter has feelings that her mom cares about the family member who molesed her. I am on top of getting cousel for her but things are moving slow. My granddaughter is terrified she has guilt that she has divided the family, she feels she's no longer a virgin. I explained to her that she has been violated and this means she is still a virgin.

She is hurting inside and needs to talk to someone, we still talk but she need professional help. I hope mom will wake up soon and see how her daughter is suffering.

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Child Abuse Story From Laraina

by Laraina
(USA)

Molested and not Forgotten: 
When my mom got married again to a guy,i knew something was wrong about him.Then years passed,i was 12.the electicity was out,and it was cold at the house,my step dad stayed there.My mom was at court for doing drugs,drunk driving,my grandma asked me to call my dad to bring me clothes for school tommorow,then i called him.he told me to wait for awhile since he was at work,then at 11:00 he came,i was sleeping in my room and my uncle awoken me.I went.We were there and i went upstairs with a flash light and gathered the clothes i wanted,then i was ready,i went downstairs with a bag of clothes and walked in the back and told him i was ready to go back,but he asked me if i wanted to stay so he could save gas for tommrow to get food or something,and then get my mom or vist her.I felt this little pressure on my chest that felt a bit sadness,but i had to aggree,he gave me his phone and i went to the front and called my grandma,and when she said good bye,it was silent for a 10 seconds,because i was crying silently,then i said good bye.Went on my phone and kept on thinking about what will happen,as i thought,a horrible thing will,so i silently cried on the cold couchs leather,a hour or two passed and my dad came in front and said if i was okay,and i was sleeping,then his voice awoken me,i said yeah.He said it's warmer in the back,wanna come?Then i said no,but he said come on and walked to the back,i pouted insdie my little imagination,then i went back there for awhile and slept,i imagined me and my ex doing it,i feel ashame but it seems blessful to me to get my minds off things because of our breakup.But then i felt something small and hard down there it came from the right side,i finally knew what it was.it was my dads hand,his middle finger fingering my pelvic,i made groughy noise like my little brother made when someone was squashing him,like a baby wine,then i faced another way,the left then my dad quickly made that noise and turned to the right,then i decied to go upstairs and stay up there till morning,so i rolled off the bed,and stayed there with a flashlight on,making myself sound scary,like "you shouldn't have done that"Then i went upstairs and slept for ahwile,the he came upstairs,and he said,"You okay qwaush(Qwa-ash)"girl or little girl in indian"I said yeah.He said"Come down here and sleep in the back with me."I said"i don't want to."He asked me again,but this time i said serousily and a bit mad.He said"You know i didn't mean it qwaush,it's just i miss your mom."Yeah right,while those pictures and videos on your phone keep you company you dirty b***ard(excuse me for speaking like this and for wrting some or alot words wrong)I really did saw those things,but i thought it was nomal,but yeah.I will never forget this,when my dad fights with me about me going out with that boy friend,ex,ima say you gonna regret this!and that dirty thing you did to me!im sorry,i said bad words.:(

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Child Abuse Story From Michelle

by Michelle
(Colorado, USA)

i'm a victim of child abuse. mine happened when i was two years old. my mother let her boyfriend hurt me bad. he beat me so bad,he caused me to have cerebral palsy on my left side. although my grandparents adopted me the dmage was already done. i endured alot of painful exercizes when i was little. I am still enduring pain now. i have worked in the past but it is now hard for me to even take a walk with my husband. besides the child abuse i have wnet through the other types also. mental and emotional from my exhusband and sexual from my biological dad. i didn't think i could take anymore,but i did. thanks for hearing my story.

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Child Abuse Story From Claire For My Daughter

by Claire
(Wales, United Kingdom)

my abuse was not actually upon me but on my 3 year old daughter.last christmas well oct actually i started my search fo a temp xmas job which i,ve done every year for about 10 years to get xmas money for my 6 kids.though my husband works were in debt and only just manage to cover the bills,and also i love to make a fuss of the kids at xmas as they don,t get toy,s etc through the year (except on birthdays!)as obviously if you buy for 1 you buy for all so at xmas i work flat out for approx 2-3 months and spend it all on the kid,s,leave my job just before and have a fab time.last year was no different except i left finding a job quite late so decided to work full time to make sure i got enough money for the presents.i found a local job 40 hours per week the only prob was childcare my husband works shifts so he,s on day,s night,s and it changes day,s also.so i decided to contact a local childminder that i saw at the school who i knew to say hello to and she said yes fine she,d have the younger ones while my eldest daughter sorted herself out as she was old enough,i read her crb details for her and her husband it was all perfect showed previous kids she d looked after etc so was happy to leave my kid,s there.unfortunately crb checks are,t done on her kid,s she had a 14 year old boy and a 9 year old girl.turns out from my innocent 3 years old daughters mouth that this lad had been removing her knicker,s and sexually assaulting her.obviosly i was devastated as was the rest of the family .i reported it to the police immediately and to cut a long story short he,s now a registered sex offender for 2 years and the childminders struck off.he,d actually also tried to do it to my 10&8 year old daughters but they were old enough to move awawy as he was very subtle,because of my 3 year old speaking up it was also found it he,d been doin it to an 8 year old very timid little girl.it makes my blood run cold to think what would have happened if my daughter hadn,t spoken up.we let her be interviewed by social services and once that was over it wasn,t mentoined in front of her again as were hoping she,ll forget about it(though she has mentioned it a few times)so nearly a year on thinks have settleddown my daughter seems happy after lots of love and attention from the rest of the faamily though i,m on a high dose of antidepressants and can,t bear to leave her with any1 and my husband can,t even talk about it it makes him sick.but now this means my christmas income has stopped i have no way of making money as i,ll never leave her with a childminder again or my other kids and they eould,nt want to so the little f***er not only nearly ruined our lives he,s ruined our xmas s as were now in oct i,m worrying o much about it i can,t eat.i,ve joined all work from home job,s etc but they,re all a scam i,m ebayin like crazy to selling anythin and everything i can get my hands on but it does,nt make much and is so time consuming with 6 kids i,ll never be able to devote enough time to it to make a good profit.i rang a sexual abuse injury place to see if i could get compensation for loss of earning,s which they said was not possible,and i asked if i could get compensation for my daughter for when she,s 18 but because she didn,t suffer any physical injury ther,s nothing they can do there either,they did say if when she,s older she has mental anguise from it then she could claim but as were hopin it will be a memeory that fades and seems to be(she,s not mentioned it for about 6 months)she won,t suffer any fingers crossed a million timesso am sat here typing this just thinking i need a good vent as we kept it quiet because we didn,t want any1 to mention it when she,s older i sort of feel like he,s protected but were only doing it for our daughter,thanks for reading just goes to show you can,t trust anyone....

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Child Abuse Story From Nadia

by Nadia
(UK)

From aged 0 there were always turbulent emotional issues happening within my household. My mother had lived with me in a bed and breakfast for 6 months. After this we moved back into my Dad's place and he started a new relationship with my Stepmother. Eventually I grew to live with my Stepmother and my Dad.

Both my Dad and stepmother were depressed. All I remember is break ups and arguments happening quite often.

I had speech delay until aged 3 when I started talking. I did not like being touched at school and frequently wetted myself up to aged 10 or so.

The physical abuse by both stepmum and Dad started during my teenage years. This involved a variety which included being dragged up the stairs by the hair, being belted, kicked in the head, chased with a gun once, got up by the throat, kicked in the stomach and generally intimidated and made to be passive.

As well as this I was soldiered around and expected to keep my A grade scores. I wasnt allowed to cook, to wash, to do any domestic cleaning but at the same time was told I was lazy. My Dad would meticulously point out my features and make fun of how I looked. I was name called by him also. My stepmother would make sure that everything in fridge was counted so she knew if I took anything. She would feed me sour milk. Smoke with the car windows almost up. Take out my toys from cereal boxes. My stepmum and her mother would talk about me in third person in front of me and list all the bad things that I had done. Learnt to deal with my pain relatively alone. I was manipulated against my mother and my stepmum would set the atmosphere up if my scorecard was bad. She would say 'you better stay upstairs because your father's not in a good mood'. This would set the adrenaline going. When my Dad used to intimidate me, my stepmum would sit indifferently and ignore what was happening. I was not allowed to walk around in my room after lights out or I would be told off. If I had the flu I still had to go to school. My sister, 12 years my junior had more priority over me. At aged 5 she could go downstairs and eat but I could not.

At aged 15 in a relative state of calm, I put the dog on the his leash and started setting the house on fire with newspaper. I had never succeeded due to my dad coming up on the driveway but I would have let that fire rip and taken the dog with me and left forever.

I have depression now and I go to therapy. Things are not easy as I have just started to address whats been going on. I find that sometimes I have white hot anger at them both and I want to go around the house and trash it whilst laughing and mocking them. I am hoping that therapy will enable me to live a full and healthy life in the future. I find it hard to trust that people care and I lead a relatively solitary lifestyle which is what I enjoy best. My coping mechanism when younger was to fantasize my way out of the problems. My sense of identity is fragmented due to the fact that I had to keep my sexuality under wraps and in denial for 8 years. I have also suffered 10 years of paranoia thinking I was being watched.

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Child Abuse Story From Emma

by Emma
(USA)

I was born very happy... 
I think when I was in preschool I loved life, loved everything and everybody. But then when I was in kindergarten, my mom got MS (Multipule Sclerosis. I don't think I understood what was going on. I walked to school and all the teachers were saying "Oh Emma I'm so sorry about your mom." and "How's your mom, sweetie?". I was living with my dad while my mom was in the hospital (My parents were divorced and had double custody over me and my sister.) My dad started slapping me and dragging me to my room whenever I did a single thing wrong. Now my mom is home and is soon moving 2,000 miles away. My dad is worse in a different way now. When I don't answer him if he asks me something he pulls me from my bed and throws me on the floor. He says "If I were a different man I would have killed you by now." I'm getting scared and often call my mom when I'm at my dad's house and I explain to her how he's acting and what he's doing. She doesn't really do anything and thinks I'm exagerrating. I don't know what to do...I don't know if I should move away from all my friends and my dad and stay with my mom.

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Child Abuse Story From Mathew

by Mathew
(Canada)

I don't know anything about writing a story , or even telling mine at least . I guess I'll start by saying that my name is Mathew and I am a survivor of child abuse . I can't remember the exact time my abuse started , but all I know is that its been the biggest part of my life , it has shaped me into the person I am today .
My earliest memories is that of being a happy child , I loved to explore things and was fascinated with the outside world . My dad was a alcoholic always liked drinking alone , and an extremely emotionally abusive man . The words that he would call me don't really matter in this tale of mine , for I don't think it will help anyone reading this .
As I start to get a little bit older I remember certain good qualities about my father , like him taking me to work with him during the weekends , him making backyard skating rink during winter , camping for weeks all over Canada in our motorhome.
When I was around 5 things started going from bad to worst . My dads drinking increased , he started to turn violent towards my older sister and me , and became more emotionally abusive to my mother . He never hit my mom , but would more than be willing to give me or my sister a back hand .
I don't remember my exact age when my older sister started to molest me . All I do recall is me and her sharing a room and after our mother tucked us in for the night , when the lights went out her crawling to my bed and whispering whispering those words that haunt me today " it will feel good if I touch you here. "
From the age of 5-11 she had absolute control of me . We started to get violent with each other , all the while my dads drinking and abusive nature excelled . My sister moved out of the house when I was 12 and put an end to the sexual abuse , but the side effects lingered with me for 2 decades after , and compounded with my dads emotional and physical abuse I became very shy , insecure , depressed teenager . I turned to drugs , and alcohol as an escape from the pain at a very young age . By the time I was 27 I could no longer deal with the pain . I blamed my drinking and drug abuse on all my lifestyle problems , all the while avoiding my problems of the physical , emotional and sexual abuse of my past . I started seeing therapists about my addictions and attending 12 step recovery meetings .
It took almost 2 years of going to meetings and to my therapist before I came to a realization that my addictions is just a symptom of the things in my life going wrong . Then it took me another 2 more years before I completely surrendered to the fact that I was abused as a child , I'm nothing like what my father called me , and there is nothing more in life that I should fear .
Being in recovery from my abuse , and accepting that there was nothing in the past that I could have done to change things has given me the most wonderful life I could have ever imagined . The abuse I've endured has come to defy me as who I am now , and once again I find myself being that happy little boy that is fascinated with the outside world once again !

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Child Abuse Story From Kayla

by Kayla
(Alabama, USA)

It all started a year ago when i moved in with my mom. Then we moved in with her boyfriend who i took as my step dad.. Not long after this we were at our preachers house and my sister had started an argument i was crying and mom juumped on me , held me down and and started punching me in my face. The next day i went to school with a swollen face , my sister said OMG look at your face mom said I didnt do that. At school teachers asked me what happened and i just said it was a accident at home. In July mom punched me in my throat and tried shoving me off my porch if my sister hadnt stopped her id prolly be dead now. Then lastnite she shooved me and told me that she would swell my face up... Then told me i could find somewhere else to live. I tried to get the phone and she refused she then told my stepdad to put me in his car take me and drop me of as far away from there as possible.. I triedd once again to get the phone to cal my Grandparents and she locked me outside in the cold for about three hours.. Not only does she physically abuse but as well as mental abuse..i want to leave and go stay with my grandparents.

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Child Abuse Story From LaTonya

by LaTonya
(Indiana, USA)

I am an incest survivor. My life drastically changed when I was thirteen years old. I was sexually molested by my father for close to four years.

The first year of abuse, I questioned God's friendship with me. Why was this happening to me? Why did God allow this to happen to me? By the second year I still held out hope that God had not forsaken me and that someone was going to find out what my father was doing to me week after week.

No one did though, I think in part because I did such a good job hiding what I was going through. Why not hide it? With the threats I received from him on a weekly basis, I was just too afraid to tell. Either it was physical threat like pushing my head under my bath water. Or, the verbal threat of "you will never see your mother and brother again because the (Dept. of Children and Family Services) will take you away from them. I loved my mother and brother and didn't want to be taken away from them.

Hiding it meant I still hung out with friends, I did my school work, and participated in track. As I look back on that time though, I realize had it not been for a sense of normalcy in my life, I would have literally gone crazy. I thought about committing suicide on a number of occasions but could not bring myself to do it.

By my senior year I thought there was a light at the end of the tunnel by me going off to college. I just couldn't cope anymore with this BIG SECRET I had been keeping for so long. I was going to run away but instead I ended up blurting everything out to my mother's best friend when she came over one day. My mom was gone and my father was somewhere in the house. At first she was shocked and didn't say a word. Eventually, her shock wore off and she confronted my father. I thought that would be the end of things, especially when she told my uncle. Oh! I forgot to mention that my father was a teacher and my uncle head of human resource for the school district. It wasn't the end...only a delay because my uncle and mother's best friend hatched a plan for my father to get out of town instead of reporting it. He didn't leave because I told him not to. My mother and brother were so dependent on him. They needed him not I and I made that clear to him. He said he'd never touch me again but that lasted for only a few months.
I had nothing to lose now...two other adults knew so I decided to tell my mother. I just told her "mom dad has been molesting me." She immediately called me a liar and couldn't believe I would say that about him. I was hurt and locked myself in my room. I remember hearing my parents talking loudly but never knew what was said. By the time I came out of my room he was gone. My mother and I didn't talk that night. The next day we received a visit from the CFS. Turns out my mother believed me but the call didn't come from her, instead it came from my grandmother in Florida. My mom shared with my grandmother what was going on. It took my grandmother to stand up for me. Unfortunately, I was so afraid of being apart from my mother and brother that I didn't talk. Not to mention, it's taboo in the African American community to "air your dirty laundry" in public. I never talked so the case was "unfounded." I can say that my father never touched me again after that.

To this day I think of how things would have been if I just talked. I think about how I allowed my "biological" as I call him now to live his life as if he did nothing wrong. To know that there were adults who felt it was more important to protect him than me. I also wonder if he did this to anyone else.

At the beginning of this, I mentioned that I questioned whether God still cared for me I realize that HE never stopped caring for me. How do I know? Well, because I'm here. I am a wife, a mother, and an overall good person. Do I still have my struggles? Yes!! Like when the fear immobilizes my body so that I just can't get out of bed. Or, I cry and I don't know why. Or, when cases of sexual abuse are discussed in the news or they are part of a television show that it breaks me down so I can't function for a while. Guess what though I don't let any of that keep me down. I get right back up and keep moving because if I don't, then my biological wins. That's not happening!!!!

Thank you for allowing me to tell my story. It's extremely important to me that other African American girls/women know that it's okay to let it out. That's why I decided to reveal what happened to me in a more "public" way.

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Child Abuse Story From Niya

by Niya
(Maryland, USA)

Waiting, debating 
Contemplating.
On whether or not I
Should be saying.

He took one thing
I can never get back.
It just goes to show
The real man he lacks.

Trust was a thing 
My mom gave to him,
Not knowing the monster he 
hides within.

I lay down for sleep
As he tells me to.
Knowing the moment is coming,
When he finally breaks through.

I'm hurt and
I'm bleeding.
He’s laughing,
Ignoring my pleading.

Does he care?
Does it bother him?
Knowing there was more than one thing
He put inside me
Other than grim.

Three years have past
And I am still perturbed,
By the mess he left,
All things in my world are disturbed.

Just thinking he’s out there
With some other girl.
She’s probably so scared.
It makes me want to hurl.

I have no bruises,
I have no scars.
But taking my virginity,
Was like taking my heart.

Why would he do this?
What did I do?
I cant take my mind off of him.
I don’t know how to.

Picture perfect memories,
are not the images I see.
When I look back and think
Of a younger me.

I see his face 
flash in my mind
Smiling his ugly smile,
I wish I was blind.

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Abuse Story From Scottey

by Scottey (a female)
(California, USA)

When I was 7 years old, I received a new brother because my father married a woman with two sons. Her oldest son was the same age as I. We played "show me yours, I'll show you mine" when we were 8. The only problem was, after I showed him mine, he refused to show me his.

As we became teenagers, he was very intimidating. When I was preparing to go to school and brushing my teeth or something, he would barge into the bathroom and scream at me to get out. If I refused, he would shove me out or hit me. I became very afraid of him. I witnessed him beating up our younger brother a lot of times. He also beat up a lot of our classmates. Some of the classmates he beat had to go to the hospital. These actions increased my fear of him.

Our mother was afraid of him, also. One day, when they were arguing, he was so mad, he crushed a coffee mug in his hand. Our mother ran out the door in fear. She said she was leaving and never coming back, but my little brother and I begged her to come back.

When we were about 14 years old, I witnessed my brutal brother attacking a girl down the street, ripping her clothes off and raping her in her own home. I wanted to tell, but I was afraid he would hurt me.

A year or two later, he raped me. He said if I told, he would kill me. He also warned that it would be a slow and painful death! I was very afraid of him, but I would not tell my dad because they would get into fist fights. These fights were so violent, they would hit each other with 2 X 4's and I was afraid he would kill my dad.

I eventually became his sex slave. He would come in my room and rape me anytime he wanted. He came into my bedroom when ever our parents were not home. If I was not compliant and completely docile, he would beat me up. He only hit me where it did not show. He would punch me in the stomach, kick me in the head or my vulva, beat my back until it was black and blue or burn me with a cigarette. When my parents went out I would physically shake with fear and dread. Soon, he began to bring his friends over and allowed them to rape me for a fee. I was raped by about a half a dozen different teenage boys. He would watch and laugh. He kept the money they paid him. I was petrified to tell anyone.

This is the first time I have ever spoken of it. Now I am 45 years old. Even now, when I have sexual relations with my husband, I feel afraid. I am always crying on the inside, in my mind, "Please don't beat me, I will obey you. I swear to God I will obey you, sir." I never say that out loud because it would crush my husband as he has never hurt me or even tried to. But my brother and his brutality is always lurking in my mind.

All my life I have had nightmares of being raped by my brother and his friends. I can't turn it off. The fear, the guilt, the shame. Mostly, the fear that if I ever tell anyone I will be beaten senseless or to death.

When my husband was in the military, I had nightmares of being raped by his co-soldiers with him laughing and holding a leather belt above my head, threatening to beat me if I disappointed the men. I don't understand these feeling. My husband has never hurt me or even threatened me.

I don't know why I continue the have these dreams. I don't know if it will ever end.

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Child Abuse Story From Janice

by Janice
(USA)

I have forgave but can't forget!  
I was raped & molested by my father. It started at such a young age my mother worked night shift and my father had no job. He made me sleep in his bed at nights because he said I would sneak out at night to play. I woke up one night to my father on top of me with both of us naked from the waste down. He told me never to tell because he had it on tape and that I would go to jail if I told! Things just kept getting worse he did it more and more often. It was becoming a every night thing. I knew it was bad but did'nt want to get in trouble. Soon my mother and father split and I only saw him once or twice a year. I have never told anyone to this day what went on afraid of my family's responce. My father is now dead and has been dead for 4 years! I forgave my dad a long time ago but lately I have been having nightmares about being raped. It scares me to the point of not sleeping! I don't blame my father for anything I love him to this day I just wish these dreams would stop happening!

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Child Abuse Story From Andy

by Andrea
(Australia )

I was a blond haired, blue eyed, chubby but cute child. You could say I was the victim of child incest molestation, although I hate the word Victim (especially if it's applied to me) it wasn?t my father, or even my step-father, wasn?t a brother or a male cousin, or a male in general. No, it was my sister. Merely two years older then me and she was sexually abusing me at 6 years old.
At first it wasn?t bad, she was almost nice in the way she treated me, it started out as a weird child?s play. But just a few years later it morphed into something not even I like to hear about anyone else let alone myself.
I can barley remember my childhood, but every once in a while I will have a memory or a dream of an event that happened and I could never UN-remember it. I will tell you a little short story of how the abuse came to my attention.
A friend and I were at my house playing Barbie's after reading books on true stories about child abuse and neglect when mum demanded I get out side and vacuum out the car before we had to take it to the mechanics. We sat in the boot of our station wagon for hours discussing what we read in the books and I made a comment that went a little like this. I was explaining what happened to a little girl who had gone into foster care, her comment in the book was ?I hate it when girls go it, they don?t have willies so it hurts more and the spoon is always too cold.? I quoted that to my friend and followed it up with my own comment of ?spoon? brush handle? same difference.? And that little slip of the tongue brought many repressed memories back to me and my life spiraled out of my control from that point on.
I had always been an angry child, I didn?t know this until I was a bit older and my mother told me she used to be scared to go to sleep out of fear that I would kill her in her sleep.
My memory is still very jumbled up as it's only been five years since the abuse stopped I am now 19 years old, I don?t know what order my memories go in.
So instead I will just generalize it.
As children, me and my sister would play child games such as doctors, mums and dads, TV stars, We would play a game of Cinemas, where you buy fake tickets to get into the movies to watch a DVD, we would play hide and seek in the secluded area of bush just on the border of our backyard at the time. But it was never innocent. Playing doctors, the surgical procedures were always something to do with private parts. Playing mums and dads always included the making of babies. Playing TV stars was always about pretending to be porn stars. Playing Cinemas was always watching porn when mum went out. Playing hide and seek always meant the loser had to perform a sexual act on the other.
As a child I had no idea it was wrong, but I had a feeling about it. And my sister was always threatening me, ?if you tell mum I will say it's your fault and she will hate you forever.? ?If you don?t do it I?ll tell mum.? ?Do it or I?ll hurt you? ?I?ll break your horses if you don?t stop crying? it was emotional abuse at its worst.
I remember a few specific times that I?m willing to share. The one time I was about nine, she dared me to kiss her like mum and dad did, using their tongues, I was repulsed by the idea immediately, but she gave me a Chinese burn until I surrendered. So standing in the car port with no one around to see I did what she asked and I nearly puked as soon as our tongues made contact.
This is probably one of my earliest memories, I was roughly six to seven at the time when my sister was big enough and I was small enough for her to pick me up and carry me. She stripped me down, put me in the empty bathtub and turned the taps on, no plug; she positioned my vagina right under the stream of water, as a small child it was a shock to suddenly feel intense feeling where I had never considered would be of any importance. I jumped up out of the bath in shock. ?Get back in!? my sister demanded. I fought with all I had not to get back in that tub, I screamed, I swore I think I even bit her before she finally gave up on the act and moved straight to punishment of tipping a jug of boiling water over me.
When I was about eight, we were in the bath together, she decided she wanted to play doctors and I was the patient. She inserted objects inside me, front and back. Can?t say it hurt because I don?t remember feeling, just sight. That was the first time I had ever been penetrated from behind.
At about seven years old she introduced a new torture that she had been using for a while, it involved our pet Maltese, its tongue, a short skirt and no underwear in the corner of the back yard. I ran back to the house but the escape was short lived when she came into my room at night.
Then another time when I was about eleven I was asleep in bed, she shook me awake at almost three am demanding I finger her. By age eleven, this had become standard practice and it was the easiest thing she ever made me do but it was no less repulsive, then after she had an orgasm (or as we called it ?out of lack of knowledge- a funny feeling) she said it was my turn and I almost peed myself with fear, I was shaking and broke out in a cold sweat. She forced me down and with no mercy, shoved an object down as far as it would go.
So at age eleven she tore my hymen.
I can?t really remember much else but the endless crying and the hopelessness.
Some people may think it's strange but I still speak to my sister. For a while I hated her and wanted to beat her up and wanted her to die and all the rest of it but since it all came out two years after the abuse stopped, everything has calmed down and she has admitted to it and apologized, I can?t tell you how much those simple little words meant. ?I?m sorry you know, about what happened, I didn?t know what I was doing? I just? my only hope is that I haven?t screwed you up so much that you will never get a boyfriend.? Her (almost) exact words.
I do wish she had told her boyfriend so that it saved me a year of his verbal abuse telling me I was a liar and I had weight issues and not to take them out on my sister. I understand my sister?s point of view now. That she was ashamed of what she did and didn?t want him to know, I don?t even want people to know I was abused so it makes sense? Anyway, just wanted to shout out to all the child abused people out there who were abused by woman or girls, I hardly ever see a story about it and though I was on my own but now I know I'm not and hope I can help anyone with my story.

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Child Abuse Story From Jaya

by Jaya
(USA)

Paradise Lost, Battles Won: 
When I was 6 years old my family lived in India, and unlike what watching Slumdog Millionaire would have you think we lived in a humble but beautiful town. We had a lovely backyard facing vast upward sloping Hills and a gorgeous view of the country side. Nothing bad ever happened where we lived and trust was something that came naturally.. It was here that I played, and learned, and grew, and pretended to build castles out of mango tree branches and while I have fond memories of that time and place I also remember that it was here where the darkness began.

My next door neighbor used to babysit me, he was a teenager, maybe 18 from what I remember and we had known the family for many years. I looked up to him as an older brother. I trusted him, followed him around like a puppy, begged him to play with me. Being a kid sometimes I would rush up to him in my little mermaid swimsuit with the little cloth fins sewn on the rear and think nothing of it. I didn't know that he would linger his hand just a little too long over my body or look at me with anything other than brotherly love.

It was around that time that he started teaching me how to play "games." He taught me how to play "doctor" where he would strip off all my clothes and "look" inside me. He would push apart my legs with his cold fingers and then tell me he was looking to make sure I wasn't getting sick, sometimes he used other objects, and to my future guilt and shame I remember I looked forward to these games, I adored his attention. His "attentions" escalated over time, he would penetrate me, inserting his fingers and sometimes his tongue inside me. It would hurt sometimes but I trusted him. He would kiss my stomach and my mouth, and I would kiss him back thing we were playing "daddy" and "mommy." years later now I curse my participation in his sickness, even though I know that at the time I didn't know any better. He was discovered eventually, caught in the act, and all I can remember is pain, tears, and anger all around. I'm bit older now but the damage has lingered. Being from a conservative family I never went to therapy, I never talked about what happened, instead I buried it, and now I realize the damage that was done. I lived in guilt.

I know it was many years ago, I know most days I am fine, but sometimes I know that my decisions are fueled by that event. As a teenager I allowed other trusted man to abuse me. I said nothing when I wanted to scream no, I invited danger, treated my body like an object to be used. Where others would have screamed,I stayed silent and accepted my "punishments." I thought I deserved to be abused so I accepted it, sometimes I invited it. I entered unhealthy relationships with emotional and other forms of abuse...and as a young adult now I still struggle with these dark emotions, every day. I fight to assert myself and to know that despite what any man may tell me, I am not a w***e, I am not a b***h, I'm not a s**t to be used and abused, and some days they win, but some days I win too. And life goes on, and I have hope that In the end I will win more than I lose. Because that's what life's about, just keep swimming. thank you for letting me share my story.

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Child Abuse Story From Kayla

by Kayla
(Colorado, USA)

When I was 9 I went over to my aunts house to stay for the weekend well she left me with her husband because she had to go talk to a friend about some things well we ate dinner and I decided I wanted to go take a bath I never locked the door like I was supposed to and he came in with his phone and started taking pics of me he had me posing in all of these positions but stupid me never said please don't take pics of me naked I am not sure the entire Facebook world wants to see me naked well when I got out he wrapped me up in a towel and picked me up and took me to the living room and was showing me the pics now I did say delete them all he told me no he liked them well he took his hand and was rubbing up my leg and took 2 of his fingers and put them up inside of me when he was done fingering me he took me he layed me down on the bed and got on top of me trying to put his thing up in me I was crying and I kept on saying when is Aunt J coming back this was around 9 o clock and he told me about midnight it hurt a lot when he was done I took a washcloth and cleaned myself up because I felt unclean and I got dressed in long pants and a tee-shirt when Aunt J came home I only told her about the pictures I never said anything about the rape or the molesting but he got 10 years in prison so I never had a rape-kit done and that is all about the 1st abuse then my dad started abusing me he raped me, he beat me with belts, because I threatened to tell he took a knife and took it straight up to my basement and threatened to cut it he never went through with it instead he took it and started cutting my legs and he kept saying so you are gonna report me Kayla and I kept saying no and when he stopped I took a shower bandaged my legs and I wore pants from then on I went to school and they saw my legs bandaged I am a bad liar so I couldn't tell them nothing happened so I told them what happened and they took me to go talk to the school resource officer so he has been put in prison as well.

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Child Abuse Story From Tony

by Tony
(London, England)

i am what you might call a survivor from sexual abuse as a child,it started when i was about 5 and mum met this man who has lived with us since.im now 42 and have moved back home after another failed relationship with a woman,is this all because of my abuse?i would say partly,
it all started when i was 5 years old,he would make me watch him masturbate and make me look at magazines ect and in them days we had no video players,but we has a super 8 projector and he got hold of some of these porn movies.he made me watch them while he masturbated and asked me to do same but i refused.
some days he would say to me come and watch me screw your mother tonight,and when i said no he would threaten me with violence or it would be you aint gettin no xmas presents or birthday presents if you dont do as i tell you,being a 5 year old kid i didnt know what to do and just did what he asked.
it got worse and i mean really bad,i know theres loads of kids out there who have been sexually or physically abused but he went one step further,apart from gettin in my bed and fondling me and trying to bugger me also.he had to go further than that...
i can remember on a few occasions he would call me into the bedroom,and there was my mum tied to the bed and appeared to be knocked out or drunk im not sure,he would make me watch him do things to her and then he made me touch her,and he also made me do the most disgusting thing you might ever hear on this website.im sure i dont need to explain further.
i have moved in and out of mums home for ages,im now 42 and back home with mum for a year now.
he is getting old and ill and he just makes me want to kill him,he has no conscience and always moaning or arguing and cosntantly winds me up,its really amazing after all the stuff hes done to me that he continues to do this,doesnt he think hmmm if i keep winding him up he might snap and tell his mother what i have done to him i the past?
no he obviuosly does not care as he has proven he has no conscience wotsover.
i sit at the dinner table sometimes and feel like stabbing him in the throat with a fork.he just irriates me and hes always playing mind games,hes totally evil and im scared im going to kill him soon.
he also makes my mum miserable and i feel a total failure in everything and for not getting rid of him,my mum is so unhappy and she says dont worry he will be gone soon as hes not well.
she doesnt know about what he did to me and im too scared to tell her and it might make her even more depressed.
i have told a few girlfriends about this and my friends,they simply say go to the police,but i cant make myself do it.
this has ruined my life basically and continues to make me miserable living with him.i cant get a job or save money,as i live in the uk/london its not easy getting your own place to live.

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Child Abuse Story From Peyton

by Peyton
(Europe)

Master Manipulator Ninja Style: 
Now I am in my late thirties and it still affects my life, but it is so much better now. Here is in very short to the point summaries of what I wrote. My first writing was over 3000 words so I had to cut it down a lot!

My brother and I were emotionally, physically and sexually abused by our parents.
Emotional abuse
• Constant criticism
• Showing emotions (anger, sadness, and happiness) was punishable.
• Never giving praise
• Unrealistic expectations for children
• Often told we were not like normal children, we were spoiled, selfish, complainers
• Made to feel guilty for having things that our parents provided for us financially and for other things that are normal for parents to do
• Being compared to other children. We were always the bad ones who didn’t deserve our abundance
• Mom would give away our toys and clothes and other personal effects when she knew we liked them and didn’t want to give them away. It seemed that’s all she gave away is what we loved, and would try to make us feel bad that our things were gone because it was true the other children in the neighborhood had less than us, but it made giving a sad thing.
• Being denied love and attention
• Sickness ignored, or told to "toughen up"
• Always saying, “What is wrong with you?”
• Called names, “Stupid", "Worthless", "Pathetic", "Selfish", etc.
• Other children were given love and attention in front of us kids, but we were pushed away. Our cousins or friends would come to visit and my father would invite them on his lap, but he would push me away and say I was always wanting his attention, but I never got it.
• Shamed and ridiculed in front of others
• Telling people (family and friends, teachers, strangers) embarrassing things about our personal life (He or she wet the bed, etc.)
• Obsession with what we eat and drink and how clean we are and our rooms and everything we touched.
• Telling us that we should not annoy other people with our presence, they couldn’t stand us so why would anyone else want to be around us. We were always reminded about being such a burden to them.
• Mom often said, “If only I knew this is what having kids was going to be like, I would have thought twice about it.”
• She also said, “I give up everything for you kids and I get nothing in return.”
• We were not allowed to touch anything in the house that was not ours, touching the furniture that was anywhere but our rooms or the basement was forbidden. We were always told we would break everything.

What made this emotional abuse so difficult to understand and label was it was not consistent. Often when they were in a good mood they would do kind things for us, but then we would pay for it in a guilt trip later. My parents were the pretty good actors.

Now that I am older I thought that my mother’s approval was not so important to me. My mom and I live on different continents. Since we only can spend a few weeks in a year together I looked forward to seeing her this past summer. But not long after she came she began to criticize nearly my every move. Now I am old enough to stand up for myself, but it was quite a wakeup call for me. I was familiar with her crazy behavior; it was my day to day life while growing up. Not only did she disgust me by wasting our vacation time together, but that she dared to treat my brother and I like this when we were so young, not old enough to know that she was in the wrong, not us.

‘Tough love’ was an excuse for her own emotional sickness. In some ways experiencing her act psycho like that helped me to believe myself that I was abused, that the past was as bad as I remember. Those two weeks with her were hell. I could not get her to shut up. But when I was a child I had no chance, I just shut down. It has taken me years of hard work to try to heal myself. It’s only been since her visit that I know it wasn’t my fault. She is sick, not me. I have recently come to a conclusion that my mother is jealous of me. She has a very hard time acknowledging anything that I do well.

The way my parents sexually abused us was by making out in front of us. Not just French kissing, but groaning and grabbing each other when we were not able to leave the situation. My father would walk around the house completely naked, especially after they had sex. How did we know they were, because of the noise, the door not being closed, or them screaming, especially my mother. My father would tell her to quiet down, but she would just do it louder. It was sick. I would put on my headphones to ignore it, or go further away from them in the house, but often even in the basement, we could hear her. She still does it now when I stay overnight. I don’t visit often and it’s only once every few years. She will do it on the floor right outside the spare room and bang on the wall. I think having me or others hear her is her fetish. GROSS!

My mom is a master manipulator and I will not fall for her tricks anymore, even if it means that sometimes I am over cautious. She seems to ninja style hurt me and I am too smart for it now. FINALLY.

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Child Abuse Story From Norma S

by Norma S
(Texas, USA)

My story began when I was 9 or 10 years old. My mother married her first cousin which means he was my second cousin. I was taking a shower and he came in the bathroom to (he told me to get his deodorant) but he stayed there and just stared at me. I started to get very nervous and I got out to get dressed. He told me to stop getting dressed and go into the bedroom to talk to him. I did as he said because he was suppose to be like a dad to me. He made me do things to him that a 10 year old shouldn't be doing! He never actually raped me until I was 13. It was molesting for 2 years and then moved to rape. I never told anyone out of fear. I waited till he got me pregnant and I had the baby to tell my family. My mother of course blamed it all on me and told me I must have given him the impression I wanted him! How dare her! I was a child! I till this day have people suggest that part of me must have enjoyed it because I waited 7 years to tell anyone...really?? I'm still messed up emotionally from this and I'm 34 years old. I can't talk to anyone about this anymore. Everyone thinks that just because you have a penis inside you that some part of you enjoyed it...why? Why do people think this way? I'm starting to think maybe I will never recover from this.

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Child Abuse Story From Diane

by Diane
(Alabama, USA)

Part 1: 
Yesterday I had my appt with the disability therapist to evaluate me. She told me something that I had never heard before. First she was asking me questions about my mental status, which Ive had depression for most my life. I'm 53 and I've had many illness's over the years. One main thing is fibromyalgia. I am on alot of medications. Stress has always triggered my fibro to flare up. Ive had a couple of mental break downs and was hospitilized and put in the psych hospital. Ive also taken overdoses twice and was hospitalized twice and put in the psych hospital for that too. All together Ive been in the mental hospital 4 times in 20 years. One Question she asked was if I had ever been sexually abused. When I told her yes, She said she new I had before she even asked me. She said most of her clients that have an illness like mine was sexually abused, and that I had Complex PTSD. I was shocked. All these years I have been going to my psychrist he never told me this.All hes done for me is give me medication. So this unresolved dirty little secret that no one talked about resurficed. I want to share what happened to me.

I was 5 yo, we (my mom sister and baby brother)were staying at my grandparents small trailer after my mom left our dad. My grandfather raped me. The last thing I remember was looking out the window and wishing I was not there and then everything went blank. When I was 48 I started having vivid flashbacks. My first one came to me when my grandaughter was almost 3yo. I had give her a bath and had laid her on the edge of the bed to dry her off and to put her clothes on her. It was like a scene out of a movie. I saw myself sitting on his lap and he was in his boxer shorts. I could feel his erection under me. The flasback happened so fast but it was so vivid. I thought where did that come from. Then I remembered thinking while I was giving her a bath how could anyone abuse little child and I became emotional and asked God to keep her safe from preditors.

Part 2: 
As the week went on I kept trying to figure out what was happening. Then the flashbacks came more frequently until all of the pieces were put together. I told my psychiatrist about the flashbacks. He said that my granddaughter being close to the age I was, and with what I was thinking and the position I had her lying in while I was putting her diaper on and her clothes, just triggered the flashbacks. I asked him why did it take so long for this to happen. He said it was called selective memorey loss. I went home and told my husband and he didnt know what to think. I dwelled on this for months. The more I thought about it the more real it was to me. I could decribe details of there bedroom, the lay out, things on the ceiling, the mirror on the door. the curtains the way they were blowing. Its weird because I cant describe the way the rest of the trailer looked in detail. I know he raped me, and I believe I passed out.After that I was hospitilized. I remember showing my mom blood in my panties. I remember being in the hospital for a long time. After all this started comeing together I decided to try to get my medical records. I knew it was just a shot in the dark.I made several calls to the courthouse to find out who would have the records. The hospital had been closed but all the records had beed boxed up and were in a basement of the newer hosp. I talked to a sweet lady that worked in the medical records dept. I told her what I was looking for and why, she told me she would go and look for them on her lunch break. Weeks went by and I hadnt heard anything from her so I thought I was at a dead end. One day my phone rang and it was her. She had found a discharge card with my name on it. I was so excited. I asked her what were the dates on it and she told me I had been in the hospital for 19 days. She mailed me the card and I still have it. I thought there is something going on here. While I was in the hosp. my mom showed up with two men I had never seen before. They stood at the foot of my bed and my mom told me that I was going to have a new daddy. she introduced me to him and I remember feeling so confused. I didnt want him to be my daddy, I wanted the daddy I already had. When she left I remember crying and the nurse came in and hugged me and brought me chocolate milk. To this day I love chocolate milk. My sister sayes she also remembers being in the hosp. for a long time too. Neither one of us remembers our mom staying with us. My sister remembers mom comeing to see her and and treating her like she was mad at her. Soon after all that our mom and dad got married. We didnt get to go to the wedding, we were left out and I remember feeling very hurt. So thirty something years later,Im trying to put this puzzle together. I confronted my mother about the hospital stay, she didnt remember. I said Mom how can you forget that I was seperated from you, sick in the hospital. She said Im sorry, Diane I really dont remember. I told her about the flashbacks and she acted shocked, that this happened to me. She just said that she was sorry that I went thru this. I didnt press the issue with her because I knew, like me she had blocked this out of her mind. I know that when all this was going on she had a mental breakdown right after they got married and my grandparents divorced. So this is my theory. My grandfather molested me. My sister and I was put into child protective care unt. She had to get us a place to stay before they would release us. Thats why she married so quickly. This has been kept quiet and blocked out of everybodys mind. I have suffered mentally for years. My mom would beat me for everything. She took her anger out on me up to the day I got married. So know I understand why the therapist said I have complex PTSD.

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Child Abuse Story From Marie

by Marie
(Location Undisclosed)

It started when i was like 5.My brothers friend who was like 15 forced his hand down my pants and wouldn't stop till he seen my brothers coming down the ally. I never told them cause i though i would get in trouble. then when i was like 7. My cousin boyfriend he was like 18 wanted me and my cousin who was also 7 to go to the store with him, But she was sleeping so he made me go with him, we went to the store and on the way home he wanted to go a diff way i felt funny about this. well he forced his hand down my pants and my hand down his pants i tried to pull away from him but i could get away from him. When i got home i told my cousin the one that was my same age(7) and she said he did the smae with her. We told what he did and NOONE belived us besides my older brother and my cousin bf and him got in a fight, My brother got arrested. notting happen to my cousin bf.

When i was like 15 my aunts(boyfriend) naphew forched him self on me he done this over time. I told them what he did and they blamed me for him doing it. IDK why but they blamed me.

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Child Abuse Story From Mere

by Mere
(New Zealand)

In the 60s & 70s: 
I have visted this sight from time to time & having read some of the horrific stories, I have come to realise having read others experiences, it is only fair that I share my story too.
Around the early 1960s at the age of 5-6 years old I witnessed many beatings my Dad subjected my mother to. My mother also abused us as children around that time. She not only beat us badly but subjected us to alot of emotional & psychological abuse. I remember my mother would orchestrate the hidings she planned for us & I remember feeling the pain well before she applied the hidings. My mother would run around closing windows to prevent sounds or noise from the hidings she would give us. I speak for the memories I remember clearly when my mother would cover my head with a quilt, push my face into the bed to minimise the sounds of crying. when she finished the beating she would contain herself, reopen the windows & warn me that I was not to speak a word of the beating I just received. As time progressed, the hidings only got worse. Having survived one hiding the next would only be worse. I remember one hiding in particular where my mother hit me around the shoulder & head area with a crowbar. I could not protect my head any longer as my arms were weakened from the blows to my shoulders & arms from amount of times she hit me with this crowbar. When I fell to the floor, I remember my mother telling me to get up, go to the wash room & wash the blood from my head. As I washed myself I remember feeling my whole upper body in pain & hoping the bleeding would stop. At the time I also remember a strong hatred in my gut developing for my mother. This was not the first injury to my head inflicted by my mother, but one which stands out clearly. The reason it staands out clear from the rest is that while my mother was beating me, I was telling her that I loved her as a plea for her to stop. I remember the following day pulling out dry blood from the crown of my head. My mother would keep us home from school, until fully recovered from bruising or signs of the physical hidings we received. I would have been around 8 years old at the time. I still ask myself the question now how did I survive all those hidings I got from the age of 5-6 right up until I ran away from home at the age of 16. My mother put us all in very dangerous situations. My sister & I were subjected to sexual abuse as well at around the age when I was 8 years old. I remember my mother comotosed after a bout of heavy drinking & not being aware that one or both her daughters were being molested in the very room we all slept. We were staying with an Aunt at the time. We had no where else to go. I remember one guy in particular who would come into the room & lay down on the floor alongside either my sister & I. He would weasle his way closer to where I slept. Before I knew it he would slip his hands under the bedding & start feeling around my legs & tummy area. He would eventually slip his hands in the leg of my underwear & feel me. I remember pretending that I was in a deep sleep because I did not want him to know that I was aware of what was going on. That was my way of dealing with it, & I think it was also my way of dealing with the embarassment of the ordeal. I have tried so much to put my memories to sleep but it is difficult. When my mother died, I only attended the burial. There was nothing for me to grieve, other than say goodbye. I remember other people present at her burial. People who knew of the abuse we endured from our mother. I dont forget that they made no attempt to stop the abuse. I have forgiven some, but I still have alot of work to cover.

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Child Abuse Story From Kerry

by Kerry
(Location Undisclosed)

My parents separated when i was 10 months old, my dad stole everything my mum owned. The court set up a system where i would go to my dads every other weekend and be with my mum all the other time. Fast forward to when i was 2, i was spending a contact weekend with my dad, he was giving me a bath and he put 2 fingers in my v*****. i then told my mum when i got home, she rang the doctor and they rang the police. It turned out it was my word against his so no further action happened. i still see him every other weekend, but he keeps looking at me in a strange way. Today I broke down to my teacher, how i am scared of him, i didnt tell her what he did just that he did something to me. she said she has to tell the child protection officer at school incase something happens in the future. i really dont want my mum to find out i spoke, she would freak, she has enough on her plate.

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Child Abuse Story From Ashley

by Ashley
(USA)

I almost hate posting here after reading some of these heartbreaking stories. My childhood experiences are not quite the same but they are traumatic and have caused tremendous negativity in my life and with my parents just the same. I feel my low self-esteem is attributed to my memories of shame. I also have other issues because of the abuse that I am trying to overcome.

I lived a pretty normal life in most ways...I lived in a nice house, I ate three meals a day, we had a dog. I had toys. Not that bad compared to other people's situations, I suppose. But my parents confused me and hurt me so bad and I don't know if they even realize it. I was spanked as I child and I am still so disturbed by it. I got spankings as far back as I can remember. When I was really young, I remember getting my diaper (or pull up, whatever) pulled to the side to get my smack. I vividly remember the first time I was ever really spanked. I was preschool age and was dressed for church (I think, or else someplace where you had to dress nice) my mom had told me about 4 times to not jump in the leaf piles, we were about to leave. I did, and the next thing I knew my dad was marching outside. He took my hand, led me into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He began to unbutton my pants and I was so terrified. My mother stood behind me, watching. He pulled down my pants and underwear together and I just stood there, sobbing. He didn't turn me over his knee or anything, just slapped me on the bare butt about 5 times while I stood up. My mother came from behind me and hugged me. My pants were still down as she told me why daddy had to spank me and that they loved me so much and it was their job to keep me safe and to help me learn to listen. She pulled up my pants and buttoned them, then told me to get into the car and to stop crying. I got spanked standing up like that many times in my younger years, and thinking back on it now, it makes me sick. It's like he wanted to expose me, not even have my genitals covered. My dad was such a great guy in so many ways but I swear and I know it's sickening to think about, I think he knew that getting my pants pulled down was so terrible and embarrassing for me, and he was glad. As I got a little older, he started putting me over his knee for spankings instead of standing up, but he still unbuttoned my pants. He would pull them down before he put me over his knee, then position me. As he was pulling down my underwear, he would tell me how much he loved me and how much he hated to spank me. By the time he started to actually slap my butt, I would be close to a heart attack, the worse feeling of helplessness you could ever imagine. This might sound really stupid, and I know it does, but one of the worst parts of the spankings (besides the part where dad or mom began to take down my underwear) was that they were never very hard, more of light slaps instead of hard smacking. In other words, no, they weren't pleasant, it did sting, but it wasn't incredibly painful. This gives me the sick sensation that the punishment was more of meant to embarrass me rather than hurt me. I can't believe my parents did that to me. Because of them I get a sick sensation when I see or hear a child get a spanking. It's disgusting. The absolute worst spanking I ever got was the one and only time I ever got a spanking in front of another person besides my mom or sister, and it was the single most traumatic event in my 28 year old life. My uncle was visiting from about 2 hours away, and it became late and my parents invited him to sleep over so he wouldn't have to drive. I was 10, and pushed my 6 year old sister down when she tried to sit next to my uncle on the couch right before we went to bed. She got mad and hit me, and I pinched her really hard. My father stood up and grabbed my arm. I knew what was going to happen and I was almost in shock. i don't know what I expected him to do, but when he didn't make a move to relocate to privacy I panicked. I ran to my room and locked the door, and my dad came and told me that if I didn't unlock it he would get in anyway and it would be worse. I begged him not to spank me, and he calmly said that yes, he was going to spank me. Crying, I begged and pleaded for him not to pull my pants down. He said he was going to. I was a wreck, about to pee myself and feeling so ashamed. I felt a familiar panicked throb in my genitals. I was so scared I refused to open the door, and my dad went and got a screwdriver to take the doorknob off. The whole time I heard the buzz, I knew what was about to happen. I was crying so hard. My father came into my room and literally dragged me to living room. He smacked my hands away from the buttons on my jeans and yanked them down, along with my underwear. He began to spank me the old way of standing up, at least 5 times before he put me over his knee. My uncle was watching the whole thing. I stood there, with my hands covering my vulva, getting smacked on the butt. After he was done spanking me over his knee, he made me apologize to my uncle with my pants still pulled down. I hate even thinking about this. I got so many of these terrible punishments.

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Child Abuse Story From Jaclyn B

by Jaclyn B
(Ontario, Canada)

I want to tell my story but alot of places won't cuzs they could be sued I grew up in the CCAS I was in it at age 3 made a crown ward at age 5 I was in 20 foster homes and was abused in 15 of them I was beaten and raped and put on life support and in a comma I had a bad life I was in trouble with the law and I just had my son 18 months ago they took him at birth and they are putting him up for adoption and there going to do the same with the baby I'm pregnant with and I've changed so much in the past 4 years they say they are there for the children but where were they when I needed them they knew what was happening but turned a blind eye but they don't care about most of the kids there's crack heads that have there kids all I want is a chance it's not fair that they can use the past and my illness I have FASD (Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder) depression and ADHD I'm going for compensation but that won't help I just hope you will read my story some times I don't want to live with out my children but I keep on going cuzs I think of my son and this pregnancy I would never hurt my children like they say I would I know how I was abused and would never do that to my kids

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Child Abuse Story From Millie

by Millie
(United Kingdom)

it all started when i met a boy called j-- while walking to school. he was 17 and i was 11. we started talking and got friendly. i used to go to a girls school so after school i always met up with him to walk home. every sunday id see him and we'd hang out. but then my parents decided to move to a different house not far away but i still had to change school into a mix school. later i found out j-- was in the same school as me, he was a sixth former. we always hung out for nearly a month especially on a sunday.
then one day, after break time, he took me into the closet sayin lets hide, then without realising he pulled my pants down and raped me right there in the closet. i cried while we were in there but he just told me dont worry get used to it. we had missed 3rd lesson and skipped the rest of the day at school.
trying to forget about what happened he took me to the field, and threw me on the floor sexually abusing me and he was punching me at the same time. then he stood up and tried to push me into the river nearby. but i survived. he left had left and after that i never saw him again. no one still doesnt know about this but i dont know what to do i just need my voice and my story to be heard and want someone to help me.

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Child Abuse Story From Kourtnee

by Kourtnee
(Utah, USA)

When I was very young my biological mother would often beat me. She was always high on one drug or another and often was asleep on the couch for the most part of the day. She had my older sister when she was just 16 and me when she had just barely turned 18. We always had diffrent men coming through our house but never a true father. The longest one stayed was a year. His name was J**. My birth mother put a rather rapid end to that one when she commited adultry with a man named B****. The first night I ever met B**** was the night that he raped me. I was 7 years old.My birth mom sat and watched on the couch, too drugged out to care. I never reported it until a year ago, at the age of fifteen to my Mom now who adopted me at the age of 8. She was originally my Aunt. I'm sixteen years old now and I have gone through a great deal of therapy but sometimes I still feel angry towards my birth mother for allowing these things to happen to me. I hate her sometimes for giving one of my little brothers Fetal Alcohol Syndrome and for making the other one so messed up he can't even function. But I also feel sorry for her. She hasn't been able to see me grow up at all and she still lives in a mental hospital and she believes that she is still on top. That she's beat the drugs and that she doesn't need them. But if she didn't need them, then why did she love them more than her own children? Sometimes I don't understand what her thinking is but I do know that I was strong enough to conquer this. I made it through and I know taht all of you guys can too. Keep fighting your inner turmoil because I know you all can get through this. Keep the faith!

-Kourtnee

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Child Abuse Story From Doug

by Doug
(Florida, USA)

Probation: 
when i was an 11-year old boy three of my friends and i were busted for breaking into a feed mill and stealing some jack knives. we were sentenced to a year of probation, and i was required to visit a probation officer once a month, and submit to home visits upon demand. the probation officer took an immediate interest in me that later in life i came to recognize when i was mature enough to understand it. he would pull the shades in his office and lock the door when i appeared for my monthly visit. i came to dread these monthly visits, and as the appointed time would approach, my fear would rise and overshadow any other thoughts or considerations. after my "visit" was over, i would feel incredible relief. however, after several months, the probation officer decided to exercise his right to perform home visits. he happened to show up when my mother was away from home. i quickly learned to keep an eye out for his car, so i could disappear when he turned up. the only trouble with this method of evasion was that i became so nervous and hinky that i was never at rest anymore. i had to keep my eye out for this guy at all times, and i still was required to make my monthly visits to his office once a month. i did not feel that my accusations would do any good against an officer of the court, and as it was, in this small town i was seen as a trouble maker and ne'er do well. many years later, when i heard of his death, i did a little dance of delight.

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Child Abuse Story From Jaycee

by Jaycee
(Oklahoma, USA)

Abused by my Dad: 
My dad hit me he beat me for no reason he thought it was fun he also beat lots of my family and i dont know y i wish he would die thts all i wnt to share right know but i will share the real story later

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Child Abuse Story From McKayla

by McKayla
(USA)

I thought I knew better then to let it happen again. The first time it happened to me I was only four years old. Me and my mom lived in an apartment complex then. Well anyways one day I was at the play ground that was across the street from my apartment. I was playing in the rocks watching them fall when these kids that were older then me started walking my way. I didn't mind as much really care as long as they left me alone. A little while later the boy that look like he was a coulp of years older then me started walking torward me. I stood up wondering what he was up to and what did he want. When he stopped we started talking a little bit. Then he asked me lay down. I said no and started walking away when someone or something hit me on the back of the head. I must have blacked out, because when I came to I was be held down on the ground. That when the boy started pulling down my pants while the girl forceable held my arms down. By then the boy had my pants down and started touching me. I started crying a loudly, but the girl put her hand over my mouth so one could hear.but after that I don't remember anything. But the during the I can remember nobody came to save or stop what was going on right in public where anybody with eyes could see. I never thought this could happen again, but I was wrong. Five years later when I was nine. Me and I family were at of my mom's friend's house when it happened again. Well on the night it happened all the adults were outside talking about what I have idea. I was bored and I heard a loud noise in the back. So I decided to go find out what it was. When I go back there that TV was on pretty loud. I just looking debating if I should watch with them. Well I had one to choices I could bore myself to death or watch some TV. So I decided on choice number 2 which was fun and I hopped on the bed lied to next to the boy that was the same age as me. For a while everything seemed fine when the boy some how got my attention. He said "Here is what I'm going to do to, me"( I am not going to give my name out) with the biggest grin on his face. Then he turned to his sister and started whispering something so I couldn't here. I started freaking out. When I started hopping off the bed he grabbed my arm and pulled me. He had me pinned, I must have hit him in the right spot cause he let me. I started backing away turning around when he grabbed my leg. My body went from a being shock to fight for survival. Even I got tried I didn't give up. The last thing I remember before I passed out was him on of me kissing me over and over. After that I stayed silent for years. Telling myself that I get over this by myself and that I didn't help. Well because I couldn't cope with it I started self harming when I was nine. Well one weekend when me and my family were stay at my grandma's house. I was at the end of my rope when something of me told me to tell somebody. I did and they believed me. Even tho I had told someone they didn't offer any support. So I still felt so alone and helpless. Then one day I went to the school and told her what happened. By law she had to report it and I was releaved, but also scared and worried all at once. I had to tell the police what happened, but when I did. They didn't do anything. At first I was fine with it, but then I got angry. As the months went my feeling got a little better. Now I much feel so better that didn't stay silent like I told myself I would. Beucause if I didn't anybody I don't know if still be here today. Also remember that you its never to late to pick up the phone and call somebody. You're not alone there's always someone out there willing to help.

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Child Abuse Story From Kelly

by Kelly
(Colorado, USA)

Part 1 - From 1 to 13: 
As a toddler, my dad would 'spank me as when he was spanked as a kid'. But that was a lie. He would always use a belt, even when I was 3. I remember one night I was crying for mom because I had a bad dream and he came in and whipped me until I started crying again with bruises and welts all over my bottom. My dad said he was spanked with a 'wooden paddle' but belts for spanking can cause bleeding and welts... resulting in child abuse. When I was a toddler, I supposedly said a 'bad word' and was given a liquid soap in my mouth that I had to swallow and resulted in a horrid sickness. Now, AT 13, almost 14, I get spanked with a belt if I was frustrated at something (not someone) or got whipped on my arm full force with a jacket with a sharp zipper that still has it's mark on my arm; I 'deserved that hit on my arm' because I said that "school might be closed, so we don't have to go..." PLEASE, IF YOU'RE LIKE ME, TO AFRAID TO REPORT CHILD ABUSE IN CASE OF GETTING TROUBLE... write your story!

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Part 2: Just when I thought my life would be okay, it took a turn for the worst. Ever since I was a toddler, maybe 2, I was spanked maybe twice a month. It started when I drew on my dad's "prized possession" of drums" with a marker. We didn't have any paper, so I thought that anything that was white was ok to draw on (I never was taught that it was only paper, and I was only 3). We he saw the line of washable green marker I made on a drum, he flipped out and showed me that it was wrong and permanent (it wasn't permanent, because my mom washed it off later with a tissue!). I got spanked all the time with a belt, nothing else. He spanked me hard on the bottom until I was crying so hard the floor was wet, so he spanked me all the more. Then, I was getting ready for a bath one time after being spanked at least 3 times, and my mom asked why I had red welts all over my thighs. I said, "Daddy spanked me really hard." And my mom didn't do anything. Another time I was crying for mommy after a bad dream one night and my dad came in and whipped me with a belt in the dark. I didn't know why, and I cried even more, and I couldn't sleep after that. To this day, at 13 and a half, I have bad dreams of my mom or dad being so cruel, eviler each time, that I silently cry myself to sleep again. A couple days ago, I thought school might be cancelled, so I told my dad that 'The website might not have it but there might be a snow day.' I left to go downstairs and he whipped me with his jacket on my arm, leaving a sharp-edged zipper mark on my right arm (and it's still there!). He used to tell the truth, like when he would 'Stop spanking me at 13, because when I was a boy I had my spankings stopped at 12.' Another time when I was 12, I was bagging up the basement garbage and he asked if I was done and I was scared because he might scream at me so I started picking up the small paper mess that slipped out of the bag and said, "Some of it spilled!" I thought he was upstairs so I had to make myself louder so he could here me, but instead he ran across his office with his 'traditional spanking leather belt' and hit me hard across the back twice. He said if I ever made a mess again and "yelled" at him I'd be sorry. I pleaded that it was an accident but instead he screamed that I was lazy and careless. My younger sister would get spanked "only if she's rebellious entirely", says my mom, because my sister is her favorite. My 2 year old brother started getting spanked at 1 and 1/2, which caused his colic (most likely) and his fear to obey. He would be told, "Come here now or SPANKY!!" Like he could understand that, he probably thought it meant him getting a spank if he went to dad. Anyhow, I've been verbally and physically abused ever since I was born, and to this day wish I was adopted... I'm too afraid to report child abuse, because I could get in deeper abuse and be "sorry" PLEASE show your story today. That was only 20% of the abuse I experienced :(

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Child Abuse Story From Heidi

by Heidi
(Belgium)

My father was not my real father, it was someone my mother found when I was 2 years old. When I was 7 years old, my mother died in a traffic accident, and my stepfather got the custody over me, and from that day,he started to rape me.
In the beginning he wanted me to sleep with him in his bed, and during the night, I could feel him between my thighs, touching my sex. Later on when still 7 he forced himself inside me, and threathened me to suck him.

When I was 9 he very often tied my hands and ankles, before he entered me, and sometimes he strangled me with a pair of nylon stockings, or a belt. I was terrified, and thought I should die when he did this, but another person inside me liked it, and found it arousing too, and I began to have orgasm when he strangled me. I was so shameful when I had these strong and massive orgasms while standing there, and thinking about it now, where I am older, I still feel so shameful for enjoying it, at the same time as I was terrified about if he should want to hang me to die.
I have had some unstable relationships with different men, but it never seem to work out for me,
Happily my step father died from alcohol abuse when I was 12 years old, and the rest of my childhood I spent in a foster house at the country. These years was the happiest in my life
Heidi

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Child Abuse Story From Jade

by Jade
(Location Undisclosed)

When I was five years old,I was playing hide-n-seek with my uncle and one of his friends. His friend had raped and choked me twice.He had constantly molested me for the next three years. I would love to say he was caught and arrested but he was not.It has been ten years. I still cry at night because of the horrific nightmares. I sometimes wish I could end the pain.

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Child Abuse Story From Cynthia

by Cynthia
(USA)

I am 43 yrs old and i suffered emotional,sexual and physical abuse @ the hands of my father and @ the hands of my mother;neglect.I was so young,shy and timid.I have 3 sisters,2 older and one younger.I was 12 when he started with me. . .but oh how i knew it was wrong! He would stand @ my bdrm doorway jacking off watching me sleep.Then after a while he would come by the bed bribing me,hed tell me that if i let him touch me he would let me go somewhere or do something i wanted to do.Thats when my sis taught me how to roll myblankets around me like a burrito so he couldnt get his hands down there.Shorly after that we told my mom,she threw him out and a week later he returned.So @ the young age of 13 i ran away to never ever return.Most of my childhood memories were of me being locked in a water heater closet with cockroaches and my mom laying on the other side of the door crying with me,my dad wouldnt let her get me out.I would cry myself to sleep.

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Child Abuse Story From Tammy A Concerned Parent

by Tammy
(Oklahoma, USA)

I was not abused but am concerned my son might have been by his grandfather on my ex-husband's side of the family. My son told me about an incident at my ex-in-laws house. He said he was in the "hot wheels room" it was a room for collectable hot wheels. He said he remembers him coming behind him and trying to "tickle" him and he was scared and was yelling for his mamaw, he said he was trying to keep him in the room. My ex-husband's other son has turned out to be homosexual, his brother's son is also homosexual, and in most cases of a homosexual person, they were abused in their childhood. About a year after I was married, there was a secret meeting that I was not told about by anyone when it happened as a matter of fact, my husband never told me about it, it was my sister-in-law. Supposedly my ex-husband had molested his youngest brother and they were going to have a meeting about it. My ex-husband said the meeting never happened that my sister-in-law was lying. I believed him. Later after we divorced he remarried and had a son, the girl he married had a son from a previous relationship. When they divorced and he got visitation with his son, he also took the other boy too. I heard that his ex-wife called CPS and reported that her son made some sexual allegations against him, something that happened in the shower. This again was something that was to be kept quiet in the family and I was never told of it except by my sister-in-law. Several years later, my daughter when to go live with my ex-husband and she told me there were a few occasions he said things to her that made her feel uncomfortable and she was also concerned for her younger sister that he has with his current wife. My ex-husband cheated on me with several young girls, the youngest was 12, he was 20 at the time, the other girls were 14-16. At the time I was young myself so I saw them more as competition as opposed to children who were being taken advantage of because I was so young myself. After 5 years I couldn't deal with it any longer. He then went on to marry and cheated on her, it lasted 2 years and they divorced, right away he married again and this time he has been married 18 years but cheats on her with young girls. I know this because my daughter tells me and is disgusted with him because of it but at the same time she will not tell her step-mother but she feels she has to protect him because she doesn't want to disrupt her sister's life. My ex-husband's brother was the same way and cheated on his wife. The youngest brother who is now 40 is basically a bum, doesn't work has always abused drugs and alcohol, one of his daughters even said at age 13 that she was bi-sexual. The parents have always taken care of the family to some degree finacially or they have cheated or scammed the government to get government aid ect. Two of the boys have a "secret" child with another woman while they were married. The grandfather also had affairs and has a "secret" child with another woman. So now that there is some background on the family, I think my concern is that, why is there so much sexual perversion in that family? Did the grandfather molest my ex-husband and then possibly 3 of the grandchildren? Did my ex-husband molest his brother and possibly his step-son or maybe even his own son? Was my son sexually abused or was there an attempt but it just didn't happen or my son doesn't remember because he has blocked it. He has displayed many of the characteristics of being sexually abused but I just don't know for sure and even if this did happen to him, he probably would not want to do anything about it because he wouldn't want anyone to know. Of all the grandkids, 7 are grown, the 4 youngest and 2 on the way are 8 and under, one is a boy and he is 6. I don't know what to think about all of this or if I should do anything or let it go as long as my son stays away and my daughter does not ever leave her children with her dad or grandfather. She has expressed concern and even said she has not left her son alone with them. She is currently expecting another boy. I started remembering all of these things when my son told me of the incident with his grandfather and there just seems to be too many things to think it is by chance that this happened only to my son or that the two oldest boys from my ex-husband and his brother just ended up being gay. I think something happened to them by someone in the family. Niether my sister-in-law or myself allowed our kids to stay with anyone other than family and the only person they have in common is the grandfather, I don't think it was my ex-husband because her son never stayed with him but both boys and my son were always with the grandparents when they were growing up. It is scary to think this could have happened and the potential for it to continue is still there but then I feel guilty too because the grandfather was always so nice and soft toned just a likable person and the kids loved him. My son never resisted going over there and I don't remember my sister-in-law saying anything about her son not wanting to go unless something happened when they were very young and they dont remember. I just dont know.

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Child Abuse Story From Natalia

by Natalia
(Location Undisclosed)

It was only a summer trip my parents sent me with my younger brother (im 13) everything was fine until my cousin started to touch me, i kept pushing his hand away and telling him that he cant do that especially to his cousin.

After a few weeks we were left alone and he lay on me, i tried to push him away but it did nothing as i was to weak, i did tell him to stop but he said that he cant. He rubbed my breasts, kissed me... It lasted an hour as i tried to get out, an hour of hell. At the end he threatend me that if i tell anyone hell do it again.

I was helpless, i had noone.

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Child Abuse Story From LockedInside

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

It is very hard for me to write this but what happened to me has had so many repurcussions and I am still searching for a way through. I have basically messed up my life because of the ways i have tried to deal with it all - I have had an eating disorder for 20 years, I self-harm, have OCD and depression and although I have had some support with these things it seems people are never really interested in WHY i do all this stuff to myself.
From as far back as I can remember I was sexually abused by a very close friend of the family. I lived just with my mum and because she had problems of her own I lived part of the time with this person and his wife. They looked after me from right after I was born so it is impossible for me to guess when it started.

He could be very nice and loving when not being abusive and at some point I began to see him as two people and I always felt it was me that did something to make 'the bad one' come out. The first things I rememeber are touching and then he would make me perform oral sex on him. He began penetrating me with objects at about 7 and then raping me at 8. At this point I knew it was wrong but though I had left it too late to tell anyone because people would think I had wanted to do all the other stuff.

At some point his wife also became involved and they also took me to a friends house where he was given money to let other people abuse me. I sometimes got money too and I feel so guilty and disgusting for taking it - it feels like I was saying it was okay. Sometimes I was so scared and in so much pain I thought i was going to die.

He continued to abuse me even after I left home at 18. I know I should have been able to stop it - especially as an adult but something just seems to happen in my brain just from hearing his voice and I can't behave the way I want to I can't scream or run. Any time I have tried to fight back it has never worked - he has tried to suffocate me with pillows and about three years ago cracked two of my ribs. I thought that was the last time and that I had become a bit stronger. I moved house this year and have been trying really hard to make changes and be a bit nicer to myself. Then about a month ago he suddenly turned up and he raped me again. I feel so disappointed in myself i just don't know what to do. I have tried talking to my mum about it but he has convinced her I am trying to blame my problems on someone else. She says I am lucky he is so understanding.

I have told professionals about it but never seem to get anywhere. Just now I am finding things really hard. I want to have a 'normal' life but I don't see any future for myself. I know it makes me sound like a weak person but it's just too hard to live anymore. I;m sorry this is so long but thank you for reading it and for the opportunity to share it.

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Child Abuse Story From Emily

by Emily
(Houston, Texas, USA)

Ever since I was young, my mother has been a constant threat to me. I've always been terrified of her, yet defiant at the same time.
Now, my dad used to be worse than he is now. He often spanked me with his belt, and I remember one particular incident where he dragged me up the stairs and made me sit on the bed while he reached into his closet for his belt. I just broke down in tears, begging him, "Please, Daddy! I promise, I won't do it again! Please, no!" Something flashed in his eyes, and he put away his belt and told me to go play. That was the last time he'd hurt me. I was probably about 4 then.
My mom, on the other hand, is crazy. She and my dad had a very strange relationship. My dad is always sarcastic and criticizing her, and I honestly don't know how my mom can stand it. He is a bit selfish and is very opinionated. I believe that's where most of my mom's stress comes from. They fight constantly over stupid things like where to eat for dinner.
My mom also abused me a bit when I was little. There's this little yellow comb...it still gives me the chills just thinking about it...that she used to fix my hair. If I ever squirmed while she was doing my hair, she would slap me on the butt with it. Now, it wasn't ungodly painful, but it was a little bit of a sting. Sometimes, if she was in a really bad mood, she would practically rip the comb through my hair as she got the tangles out. She'd hit me with a couple other things too, like a hair straightener (not turned on), hairspray, etc. I also used to have this rocking chair that I would have to sit in in my room whenever I was bad. Once when I was about 2 or 3 she sent me upstairs for doing something bad and I had to sit there the whole day. My sister came and snuck some mac-n-cheese for me to eat, but I eventually got bored. So I took out a book and started to read it. Well, my mom came in, found me reading, and pushed me out of the chair. I fell and somehow my fingers got stuck under the chair. I still have a scar there, but I don't really remember the incident. My older sister had to tell me it. Another strange punishment my mom forced upon me was, around 8 years old, she got mad at me for something and told me that I wasn't allowed to take showers anymore, I now had to take baths like a little baby. I then took baths up until I was about 10, because she was always getting mad at me for something.
When I was about 9, I really wanted to take dance lessons. So, my best friend and I began taking classes at a private dance studio until we were 11. My friend then joined the school dance team, while I decided to join the private dance team. I wasn't very good, to be honest, and everyone knew it, but I just loved dancing and I needed some way to feel...accepted, I guess, so I kept trying. My mom constantly threatened to take me out because I didn't want to practice doing my splits at night, or because I didn't like fixing my hair a certain way. I was always being criticized because I wasn't as good as the other girls. She never came and told me that I did a good job after a dance at a competition. She only told me things like, "your leap was awful" or "you weren't smiling at all". 6th and 7th grades were really hard for me, because that's when the main emotional abuse started. Once, in 6th grade, I thought I left my cell phone at a restaurant. So my mom and I drove there to see if we could find it, but we couldn't. All the rest of the way home she ranted about how ungrateful and irresponsible I was. She told me that I was pathetic and all I wanted was sympathy from everyone else. I supposedly only wanted attention. Then she slapped me across the face and left me there in the car. Later I found my phone under my bed, for it had fallen.
Once she threw a magazine at me and shouted, "Find a hairstyle in here that you like, but it has to be short. Tomorrow I'm taking you to the salon to get your hair cut off." I cried and cried until she finally agreed to let me keep my hair. This was when I was about 11 or 12.
I quit dance when I didn't make my high school dance team (and my best friend did), and again the emotional abuse sky rocketed from there. I knew she hated me because I wasn't like my older sister, who was on the dance team all 3 years in high school (you couldn't be on it freshman year) and was great. She made pretty good grades and was popular. Teachers loved her. She was gorgeous and could sing like an angel. I was always so jealous of her. I knew my mom wished that she'd never had me, although she'd never admitted it (YET). All I wanted was to make her proud.
Now I'm 15 years old, still living with my parents and my older sister (who is almost 22). I've been called fat (indirectly), unappreciative, bratty, rude, moody, stupid, etc. I'm tired of this abuse. I'm doing well in school, but not as well as I could be doing. I'm too tired and angry to do anything anymore. My friends are talking about me behind my back (well, that's just what I presume is going on, because they do it to everyone else) about how moody and lazy I am. I'm in choir (and I have been since 6th grade) and my mom now wants me to take voice lessons to whip my voice into shape before a competition coming up. I'm too insecure, unconfident, and shy in general to sing by myself in front of anyone, and my mom HATES it because she thinks I'm just putting on a poor-me act. SHE'S the one that made me that way, too unconfident to do anything, so it's HER to blame, not me.
So all I'm doing in life is waiting for someone to notice. I feel like a pathetic loser and major wimp and an exaggerate. I just want someone to notice, to care enough to ask me if I'm okay, even if I'll lie and say yes. I'm slowly making my way through life and I really just need someone there for me. If I tell my friends anything, they'll probably think I'm just doing it for attention. All I want is someone to notice. I pray every night that someone will notice and I'll actually feel like I'm worthy of attention and love. But for now, I suffer in silence.

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Child Abuse Story From Kyko

by Kyko
(Location Undisclosed)

Normal, stable....those were two things I never had. Growing up as the middle child out of five was hard. I was treated different and I hated it. My oldest sibling was never around so I never really had to interact with her. The second oldest though was different. She was a prize to most people. Always in the spot light. The same with my two younger siblings. Everything that went wrong was blamed on me. It started out as nitpicking and name calling. Home, and even school, was always a emotional heck for me. Everywhere I went I was told I was worthless, no good, that I would never be as good as my sisters. I was sad all the time, depressed. My grades started to slip slightly and I started to show the signs of being an emotional eater. The weight gain didn't help either.

Middle school were a few rough years for me, personality wise. I was depressed, angry, I never smiled. I moped around the school in a constant bad mood. At home wasn't too much better. I screamed and yelled, got into fights with my mom, ending with me getting slapped across the face every now and then. She always apologized for it later but it did nothing to warm me to her. Finally a few teachers started to notice just how bad my attitude was and a therapist was called in. I instantly didn't like the woman or the questions she asked and I finally told her off, telling her that if she wanted to know so badly then she could find out for herself.

My last year of middle school ended with me getting expelled after getting mad at a teacher and the vice-principal and throwing a desk at them. Despite how bad my earlier years were, my high school years were torture. By my junior year in high school I was spending four out of seven days of the week in the ER, whether it was for a broken ankle, a head injury, or the numerous cuts and bruises I acquired at school. My older sister was always behind the beatings, of the constant pain and fear I felt. My parents half the time just shrugged it off as though the bruises on my face weren't really there.

I hated my life! Getting up in the morning was the hardest thing I had to do. Every time I woke up I cursed God for the breath he gave me. Everyday at school I flinched and cringed, ducked and hid, trying not to draw any attention to myself afraid that if I did, I would end up spending another night at the hospital. I hated my sister, I hated the people who hurt me, and I hated myself. I thought that it was my fault. That I must have done something to make my sister hate me so much.

My grades hit rock bottom, which is what I believe drew my parents attention at last. My mom started visiting the school office regularly, telling them that if they didn't fix the problem, then she would. By then it was too late though. I was terrified, fearful for my own life, too scared to go near that school, to leave the safety of my own bed. By senior year, I hated all of mankind. I hated humans and I hated myself. By senior year I had visited the hospital too many times to keep count and had bruised or been cut on just about every inch of my skin

Unlike the lucky ones' who stories end with a happy end, end with them getting out of the mess alive, I'm not so lucky. I lived through that heck to the very end of my eighteenth birthday. I still go through it even now whenever I'm near my family. I can't go home and I can't imagine ever wanting to. I've come close to dying a few times, seen death with my own two eyes and yet here I am to share the tale. Even now, as an adult, I'm scared. I can't trust or love anyone, not even myself. Many people may think I'm being overly dramatic, but when you've lived a life of constant fear of someone who's suppose to love and care for you, life becomes nothing more than void.

Some are lucky to climb out of it and I am trying to do the same, but child abuse is hard to come back from. Especially when your life was centered around it. I may forgive the people for the wrongs they've committed, but I will never forget the darker side of humans.

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Child Abuse Story From Jill

by Jill
(Connecticut, USA)

Big, Deep, Breath. Ok, I have never told my story to anyone...I've always felt it didn't matter and 'was not that big of a deal'..I still kind of think that way. It happened when I was around 8 years old, I am now 28. It's not as horrid as what most of the others have been through so I feel guilty for even posting it. Anyways here goes.. It was my self and a bunch of other kids from the neighborhood playing hide n seek..I found what I thought was a good hiding place by an oil tank on the side of a house. I was laying face down on the ground for a minute or so then out of the blue I felt my pants being yanked down to about my mid thigh...I looked back and saw my rear end exposed and my friends 19 year old brother on top of me naked rubbing his bare genitals on my backside...I honestly didnt now what to think. He then got off of me, I stood up, pulled up my pants n walked back home in disbelief. Whats odd to me is I blocked it out up intill 10 years ago or so. I also had another expierence when I was 10 or so w/ another older boy in the neighborhood. I believe he was 13. I was friends w/ his sister so I would go to her house n he would be there. It started by him making comments about my breasts being small. It then turned into him shoving his hands up my shirt and fondling me. This went on for a few months. It then escalated into him pitting his hands down my pants. What I'm about to say is weird but in some ways I enjoyed the attention he gave me. It all stopped when I moved away. After that I would have reoccurring nightmares and a bedwetting problem. I don't know if it was caused from that or not. There was also other problems going on in the home. My dad would hit my mom and dinner ended up on the wall on several occasions. I even vaguely remember my dad throwing a knife at my moms leg. I know I was affected in some way by the things I witnessed and experienced..I was very promiscuous at a very young age..12.. It was always consensual tho. It was always w/ men 19 or older. I hated myself.. I let these men take advantage of me and let them do whatever they wanted to me. I even caught multiple STD's..I know, disgusting, right? I also know it has affected me cause its REALLY hard for me to make friends and form lasting friendships...that's what I dislike the most about myself..i dont know how to talk to people so therefore I don't have friends, only acquaintances. I now have two wonderful daughters and I'm completely obsessed with keeping them safe from any harm. I don't let them go anywhere that I am not, with the exception of school. I'm paranoid that someone could harm them in a sexual way. I have trust issues. That could also be from my mom..i cant really remember her talking to me conversating or hugging or telling me she loves me. I feel like im whining. I can't believe I actually told what I've been holding in for 20 years! Well, Thank You for letting me vent and for taking the time to read this and sorry it's so long an scattered. I have faith that I will be healed from what ails me, through my Savior Jesus Christ!

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed111

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

Too embarrassing: 
When I was six my sister who name will not be said hit me for no reason then when ever my parents left she hit and hit and hit me until there was red on me.And when I told my parents (No Telling) My sister said that I was a lieing and my parents said are you lieng I said no and they you better not be.And when I was 11 she told me that I was ugly and no would like me and I would die alone i was fat im stupid she kicked my dog when my parents where gone to I'm 12 now and she still dose that stuff occasionally but, my father wasn't abuses om neither was any one in my family so I was never sure where she got it. I don't wanna get her sent to jail or anything like that but life before that was accally pretty good carefree. I just wanted my story to be heard. And for me to feel like I'm not the just a brown head glasses ADHD 12 year old little girl.

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed112

by Name Undisclosed
(Arizona, USA)

I was about 5 years old when this happend to me. I remember waking up from a nap after school and my dad was cooking something on our gas stove i could tell he was high he is a heroin addicit and still is to this day. But i remember him taken what he was cooking off the stove and light all the burners on the stove and told me to lay down on top of the gas burners. As i tryed to run out my front door he ran after me and took me back to the stove he then put my arm over the heat and held it there. I could feel my skin melting and every moment of the mins he made me hold my arm there i wanted to kill him !!!! After it was over he told me to go to the basment where he begain beating me with a broom stick. I lost my right arm and have had over a 1000 stitches in my legs, arms,stomach, face,back. I am 16 now and my dad still abuses me. My mother died and i know my father had something to do with it. He tells me my day will come to be just like my mother 6 feet under. So i wait i never try to leave cause if im cought i will pay. Im waiting to be with my mother in heven. I cant wait till my dad kills me too...

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed113

by Name Undisclosed
(England)

My life: 
I was 4 years old when he came and took me to the bathroom exposed himself. made me play with him until he got an erection i had to perform oral sex on him, a daily occurance for a while then progressed to him touching me in an intimate way i was to scared to tell my mother having been told i would not be believed so i kept quiet even when he brought other men to join in. when i was 9 it got worse they started to rape me on a regular basis he told me it was mums fault because she wouldn't do this with him that continued until i was 12 when my parents divorced. relieved it had stopped i dropped my guard until the day my eldest brother took over where he left off.i have asked myself over and over what did i do to make it happen. at the age of 47 both parents dead i had a break down, recovering now i know it wasn't my fault.

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed114

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

I write for you to post my story as I cannot post one myself, I am too scared of being identified. I suffered emotional and in some ways sexual abuse from those I was expected to and I suppose did love most. This included incest, a word that makes me feel so dirty and rape from as early as I can recall. To set this in context, I had a father who had been through a horrible ordeal while in prison, one he didn’t really talk about but always hinted at, and he used to beat my mother frequently, holding a knife to her multiple times. She lived in fear of death. I have the feeling that both these people were abused and still have a very close relationship with my mother. I am expected to support her and for the most part I think I do. When I was about two my mother left my father but he still came to visit until he was jailed again when I was maybe four. At this point it was very hard to keep in touch with him, he couldn’t write many letters and, as I had no money, I was not a priority person to write to. I recall that he had been very abusive, certainly molesting me on a nightly basis and I think, particularly considering the damage to my body and the fact that when I was raped by a stepfather at 13 or 14, I did not bleed at all, raping me. But I think considering how distant my mum could be, preoccupied by her bruises and cuts, I actually actively sought his advances sometimes. He took a lot of cocaine and I have read that this removes inhibition. I don’t think he realised the damage he was doing but it still makes me feel disgusting. Looking back on it, I find it hard to believe my mum was unaware of what I suffered but I know she has suffered with mental illness and I have no hatred towards her. After my father, she had multiple male friends/partners, she used to make sexual jokes in front of me and to a mild extent make out with them. One of them had both penetrative (not rape) and oral sex with me. Another was sadistic, I don’t want to say the exact details as I believe it too horrific to talk about.

What happened with one was only borderline, putting Vaseline between my legs and quite deep down into my vagina, though never purposely penetrative, washing my private area too much and parting my legs. They said that I was dirty and that ‘something’ was hurting me. They never asked questions and I find this strange in itself. This could have been care from someone who babied me for too long, scared to let go, or it might have been more serious, after all this time it is hard to interpret as my memory is hazy. This person used to watch me naked in the bath and encouraged me to watch them naked in the bath and to go to bed with them naked because they needed support. I’m not sure if this is normal for someone who babies another person or if it is abuse. I think this person made me rub against them sometimes and put their knee between my legs, apparently by accident. I have a feeling that I felt a sort of pulsing though, which would be abnormal. I also think this person played a game when I was very young, holding me on top of them, rubbing against me and kissing me. Then calling me a dirty s*ut and telling me I should never do that again, whether it was resist or act I still don’t know. As I say though, whilst I recall the abuse by my most of my stepfathers really clearly, this is all hazy and just beginning to return, it could well be false memory that petrifies me. I think if I knew it was abuse I would be able to move on and heal. I have largely healed and even forgiven the other people involved in abusing me. I have considered tracking down my father and trying to rebuild our relationship despite the hurt he caused me. But I think he is either in Latin America or in jail, so this would be difficult. I don’t want the poison of anger pushing me further into this world where I can no longer cope.

I have managed to overcome the worst aspects of disassociation as I have the most wonderful boyfriend who makes me love and enjoy my body. I wonder too if it is being in this safe environment that makes me recall things I have forgotten about for ages. But I know that talking to him is becoming problematic, what I experienced is hard and it hurts him, he is becoming depressed and I don’t want to see him like this. In some ways I think it is harder for him as the memories I have still feel too unreal to be comprehensible. He believes me and so it hurts him.

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed115

by Name Undisclosed
(USA)

Trying to define myself: 
I cannot believe im really about to do this.My heart is literally beating fast because i am scared/nervouse about writing this especially because ihavent read anything on here thats like my situation. But i do hope im not the only 1.

I'll start it at 11 years old.. i was the youngest son out of 2. I had a little relative who ill call M and my parents picked him up because M's parents were not suitable to take care of him.So he was raised with us.He was 6years old when we brought him home.M was a very roudy kid. My older siblings were always with there friends outside or playing sports at school.Me i was sort of the quiet kid at home.I played video games at home all day with M or i was playing make believe in our front yard.It was that way for a few months. I had a friend that lived a few houses down from mine. I enjoyed going to his house alot especially since he was the 2nd kid on the street to have internet.After awhile we both eventually started to look at pornography on his computer.You're prabably woundering where his parents were. Well his parents were in the other room watching T.V knowing that we were watching online porn.This may sound twisted but his parents were not bad people.Thats a different story though.My friend and i were mostly into Cartoon porn.And with him also owning a color printer,we also printed out dozens of them. I would take my copies home and hid them very carefully in a binder were i had my collection of trading cards.Nobody in my family knew of what i had and what ive been looking at. Every once in awhile when i was sure no one was close to my room i would take a glance at them and get excited.My little cousin M started getting mad because i wasnt playing with him as much anymore.I will say that i played with him alot.And he followed me almost everywhere i went. He would flip out when i would go to my friends house and i would tell M that he couldnt go.

Then my biggest fear happend.As i was walking back from my friends house with more cartoon porn in my pocket i go my room to find M with my Binder looking at the printed pics i had.Everyone was home at the time. I quickly closed my door and pushed him away from the pictures he scattered on my bedroom floor.I was scared and pissed at the same time. M was just saying "I want 1 I want 1".I kept saying "No!".I forgot what else i told him but it made M cry.I tried to stop him from crying because i knew that if he ran out crying my parents ask him why is he crying and he'll tell what i had.So i told him i'd give him a picture as long as he doesnt tell no one. He agreed.Since then i didnt return to my friends house due to the fact that i never again wanted my little cousin M to be in my room looking through my things.

Eventually it got to the point where M and i would always be hanging out in my room either playing video games or looking at the printed pictures i had. The crazy thing is, that he never told anyone and he was careful with them.Then something happend...M and i were play fighting in the livingroom one evening.We were both rolling on the ground and at the end he was sitting on top of me.He then told me that one of the pictures i had had 2 people positioned like we were.I didnt know which one he was talking about since i had a whole bunch so i told him "show me". We went to my room and showed me the pic. From that day forward M and I started to copy acts from the pictures i brought home and now i feel Horrible.After awhile we didnt even need the pictures anymore. And since he slept in my room, "It" happend almost everyother night.We performed everything on eachother from Oral to intercourse. My parents would always let him take baths with me.We would always touch ourselves while in there. This went on for years.I cant believed i allowed it to go on.Puberty hit me a short while after that.And it was very difficult to not seek M out. I would always ask M for Oral sex as long as i did it to him as well. A few weeks before i turned 13 the craziest thing happend. I ejaculated for the 1st time while M performed oral on me. I had no idea what was happening but i do remember telling him to keep going. When we were done i remember feeling terrified because i didnt kno what just happend.I still get butterflies when i think about that day.

Aside from what we did, M and i were always close.When ever he would get grounded or introuble, i was always there to have his back and get him out of trouble.I realized later on how depended he was of me to show and give him love (not the sick type of love).The sexual things we'd do lasted up to when i was 15 and he was 11.I started to kind of grow out of it when i started dating my 1st girlfriend. M and i never really talked about the things we would do.Eventually i began to feel depressed after i convinced myself that i prabably ruined my own little cousins childhood all because of my stupid sexual desires i had when i was starting my puberty era.M also (eventually) started seeking me out when he was around 11n a half years old.But i dont blame him at all.And i like a dumass i gave him what he wanted instead of speaking with him and stopping it like should of. It really hurts to say that he also ejaculated for the 1st time while performing sexual acts with me.

M moved away when he was 13.His parents took him back. I didnt want him to leave and he didnt want to leave niether. I didnt see him again until I was 18.We were at 1 of my family members funeral.I wanted to ask him so much; How are you? Are you ok? Are you comfortable with yourself? ETC ETC.But i was too ashamed of myself to even look at him.Later on that day when the entire family was gathered he told me something that made me feel guilty and feel like crying. He told me in a whispering voice "I would ,would you?" At that very moment i realized what everything we did resulted to.Alls i did was shook my head saying no..This is all my fault. I ruined his sexuallity. I just hope he doesnt hate me because i love him to death. Like a father loves his son and i wanted him to know that . I never ment for that to happen to him.He deserves everything...Iam 28 years old now with kids.And i havent seen M since the funeral.i sure hope and pray that he's doing ok.My life in general is good but im living with a huge guilt on my shoulders and im very over secure on my kids. I monitor everything they do at home to ensure that they dont have access to anything over G rated...I really dont know what else to say. I just hope im not the only soul going through a situation like this.I feel extremely worried not knowing how M is,and i feel very guilty for letting all that happen even through my teen years.I was so much older then him .I dont know what the F**k i was thinking..I apologize from the bottom of my heart if my story is offensive to anyone thats been sexually abused but this is what i needed to get off my shoulders.

I dont want to define myself as an abuser but i feel that im also not a good person because of this... Im having a hard time defining myself.

Thank you for letting me share.

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Note from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in submissions and visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited. Please don't include them, as they will be removed.

Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed116

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

When I was younger, about 5 or 6 I had spend the night at a family friends house. The girl used to babysit me and my sisters all the time. We had just watched a movie and after that we decided to watch T.V. She had changed the channel to an adult show called "Lets talk about sex." Knowing I wasn't allowed to watch shows like this I kindly asked to change the channel. She said "No, lets just watch a bit." After the show was over she had asked me to take off my shirt. Being five I didn't know what was really going on so I did. She then took off hers and asked me if I've ever seen a girls private part. I tried to avoid the question but then she asked me to take off my pants. I followed her instructions and then she took off hers. We were both in our underwear. She then took my hand and made me touch her in inappropriate places. Then she proceeded to touch me in inappropriate places. After telling her I didn't want to do this she told me to "Shut up." After she told me we had to sleep in the same bed naked. I was scared and followed her instructions. She then told me to force myself into her. The next morning she woke me up and told me to put my clothes on quickly because she heard her parents coming down the stairs. She also told me not to tell anyone. I am now Seventeen and I still don't know if I should tell anyone. Most days I don't think about it but when I do I feel like I need to tell someone but at the same time I feel like if I do tell someone they wont believe me. Or I feel like all I'm doing is asking for attention.. I'm honestly just confused about the situation. I don't even know if this is considered rape because I followed her instructions. I felt like I needed to get my story out even though anyone wont know who I am.

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed117

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

Molested and Raped: 
When i was seven my mothers boyfriend molested me. He ripped off my clothed and penetrated me. He told me that if i ever told anyone he would track us down and kill us all. I never told until now. A year later, my cousin a year older than me forced me to have sex with him. he said he would hurt me if i told, and still does it when my mother and i go over there. She has no idea, she just thinks were taking naps. Its harder for him to do this now because i moved to a different town, but now i'm fifteen with a little girl that i don't want to keep. she's his child, but i keep her anyways. My mother thinks she's my boyfriends daughter, but i want to tell her the truth. Her exboyfriend is in jail for molesting another little girl, but i have to keep my mouth shut. He gets out in two weeks.

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed118

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

Someone trying to deal 7 years after the fact: 
At 13 years old, I was sexual molested by my older brother. He was a senior in High School and I was a Freshman. He would sneak into my room at night and I would wake up with his hands down my pants. The first time it happened I did not want to believe it, so I made myself believe that I was dreaming and that I was the screwed up one for having dreams like that. But then 4 days later it happened again, I started locking my bedroom door and blockading my door so he could not get in, but somehow he always figured a way into my bedroom. It continued for the next 6 months. The worst was having to ride to school with him the next morning, I always wanted to confront him and ask "why were you in my room last night?" and "what the hell do you think you are doing" but I was always too scared.

I am the youngest of four and he is the only son; at the time he was beloved by my mother and worshiped by my father. At the age of 13 I did not know how to handle the situation, I wanted to tell my parents but I didn't think they would be believe me and if they did I didn't want them to blame me for screwing up the family. So I just buried it inside me and tried to forget about it; he was leaving in a year for college and then he would be out of my life.

We moved houses in January of the next year and the new house we moved to, he decided to move into the guest house... Thank the lord. I had my space and once we moved it never happened again. However, I never had a good night sleep, always wondering if he would find a way into my room and into my pants. At the time of the molestation I still had never had my first kiss. My brother took my innocence away, and I feel like I will never have a normal relationship again. Now every time I am intimate with a guy, my brothers face pops into my head, every time I am touched on the stomach or the inside of my thigh I cringe and pull away. Will this feeling every go away?

The first time I told anyone was 3 years after the fact when I was 16 years old. My mom found a letter I had written to myself (just a way to put it on paper and vent, without having others know about it.) But once she found it the cat was out of the bag. At first she didn't understand and she questioned me, but finally she came around to realize that her son had molested his younger sister. My parents wanted me to go into therapy to deal with my problems. But that was the last thing I wanted to do. I had been "dealing" with it for the last three years and I was not about to go into some office and talk about my feelings now i wish i had. If I had maybe my brother would have had some real consequences for his actions.

I finally went into therapy at 19 years old and it didnt help. I was put on anti-depressants and I am sorry but does anyone else think depending on a pill for your happiness is a little weird? For the longest time I thought being on Prozac would cure all my problems and I would be normal, boy was I wrong. It just screwed me up more. I know I have severe depression and not just because of my past but I do have low serotonin levels, so I should be taking the pill everyday, but I dont. I guess I am going to have to start going back to therapy and take my anti-depressants regularly for me to become semi-functional again.

I have never been in a real relationship and am scared I never will. In life all I want is to be happy and to be loved unconditionally. I hope one day I will, but my biggest question is how do I stop being the victim. I dont want what my brother did to me define who I am, but for the past 7 years it has. I want to move past it, but I don't know how.

Thanks for reading and sorry if the grammar isn't the greatest, I was just trying to actually write something.

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed119

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

I never thought my story was important untill now. When i was 13 a friend of the famly started to touch me and rub his member on me. Then anothe friend of the family was staying with us. He was touching himself in front of me and asked if i wanted to touch and taste it. I said yes not knowing that he was doing a bad thing. After that i started to become very sexual and wanting to have sex a lot. I even stated to have feelings for my father and my step-father. I can't get help because i don't have any money so i am forced to suffer slientley.

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed120

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

Envy: 
I don't remember much about when and how the beating started. What I do remember is loving my father but at the same time hating as a daughter.

I belong to an upper middle class family. My parents are college educated and working. My father was brought up in a small town till he came to the city for college education. My mother is from the city but has her roots also from a small town. I love my parents, but sometimes it feels like this "love" I feel for them is not enough that a child should love her parents without conditions. I love my father. He came to the city to make something of himself unlike his elder brothers and sisters who remained uneducated and lower middle class. He has a will and determination that people envy. He could have achieved so much, still did but its never enough to him. He who came to the city with 10 bucks in his pocket now lives a life of luxury, only due to his hard work and determination. My mother was brought up in now whats called the poshest area of this city, is at heart a small town girl. A middle child to an elder sister and a very younger brother.She is the perfect wife to my father, its because of her that he has achieved so much. Its because of her nature and temperament that he has a family.

From the age I started understanding that the beatings I received from my father, the physical abuse that I suffered from his hands, sometimes delivered from a bat, a badminton racket, a jumping rope, a shoe, a rubber pipe, a curtain rod, a wooden plank and his hard calloused hands, were not a part of parenting but a way for my father to relieve stress (as mother still says), was the day she told me that her father was not much different if only less of a wife and child beater but he compensated by being a tyrant.

I still remember a friend of my father's got him this beautiful hunter, its handle was made of soft fur and the rest of it was long and it hurt but only once. My mother was so scared when he used it on me that she hid it so that he may never use it again. Only if there were no other inanimate object in my house.

I must have been around 6-7 yrs old when he first hit me or rather that as far back as i can remember. I was never very good at maths and he is a mathematical genius or so he claims. I could add and subtract like a champ so we would sit in the evening while he made me do my home work. And for every wrong answer he would hit me with a cricket bat on my knees as i sat Indian style.

I still carry those scars on my knees and if now someone would ask my mother how I came to have them she would tell them about some accident I had on my bike which is weird because she actually believes it herself. they say ignorance is a bliss...my mother gives it a new definition.

I was not physically abused often only when I acted out or didn't do as i was told or didn't study or didn't behave or......etc.
I read and listen to people talking about how they were abused physically, sexually as children and compared to what they went through my life seems like a walk in park.
Then why cant i get over it? Why the images that haunted my childhood and teenage years are coming back now? Why when i look at my father now, Do i feel anger and resentment and the dying love...why when i look at my mother do i pity her.

My mother has also suffered at the hands of my father for a long time....she was slapped around and dragged around when i was young. All those articles and real life stories that i've read say that wife is subjected to more physical abuse than the child but in my house its the opposite and i cant figure out why. I have a younger brother but fortunately for him ..he never did anythin wrong and even if he did i would have let my father hurt him the same way.


I am 27 yrs old and in past 8-9 yrs my father has not laid a hand on me or my mother. Probably because he is old now, or because my mother developed a stronger backbone after menopause. Sometimes seeing my father lash out verbally seems watching an old frail tiger trying to hunt 1 last time. He's always had a short fuse and low tolerance for disobedience, still does but now its seems his inability to act out violently towards my mother and me is making him lose his temper almost everyday.

I now know for sure that if he ever lays a hand on me or my mother, I will forget that in our culture a daughter raises her eyes in front of her father...just like he forgot that a father never raises a hand to his daughter. It is a religious crime to hit a daughter and ironically almost every1 in our religion does it.

Few days back his anger gave way to his violence and he almost hit me but for some reason when he looked into my eyes he must have realized that i am not a helpless girl anymore. Because at that moment i didn't fear him, i was not afraid of him. My father loves to see fear in people's eyes when they meet him...he believe a child to fear a parent more than love him. And that day when he was about to hit me, i saw fear in his eyes, fear that if he hit me then i would do something he may have never expected.

I dont know what i would have done but I do know this i was welcome the slap i was about to receive from him, as i knew that the moment he hit me something in me is gonna break that would completely destroy my relation with my father. I guess he recognized that what is in him is also in me, I'm at the end of the day my father's daughter much to my mother regret. I have the same violence and anger that festers in him only i have have control that he does not and the day he finally loses it he'll answer to all his mistakes and i hope for the pretend bond and happiness of my family that the day never comes.

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed121

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

R.I.P. Angel: 
My Father is abusive to women. Ever since I was little I saw the fights...I sat there watching these women get yelled at and hit. I saw more fights than any of my siblings. I just dont understand how can I sit there and watch these women get hurt...I played with their children, they were my family, she was my family and I sat there. Some of the women hated me and would abuse me. My dad didnt believe me when I told him. Even though hes a man of so much anger I cant help but love him and I never told on him. Anyways...one summer when I was young we had a huge family camping trip. I was with my dad and my 5 other siblings, also my step mom at the time changed and was nice to me. We were camping with her friends and their families. One of them was my "cousin" and he was in his late 20s early 30s...this was the first time I saw him since I was 5 years old. He greeted me with a smile and big hug. Everything was fun camping and one night people were drinking. My "cousin" was tipsy but still knew what he was doing. I sat down next to him by the fire and he said, "give me a hug." so I gave him a hug and then he said, " give me a kiss." I laughed and said, " ewy no haha." I was so young not thinking that was weird. I told my brother I had to go to the bathroom, but he was cooking so my "cousin" offered to take me. We walked far away from the camp site to the bathrooms and I was skipping in to something...I would never forget. It was quiet and pitch black and all we had was a flashlight. When we both were done going to the bathroom he asked me if I wanted to play a game. I said, " yea what game?" He told me hide and seek. Closing his eyes with a grin he started to count, he had the flashlight so I didnt go far. I hid in the bathroom sitting down and being as quiet as a mouse... I thought I was slick and I was gona win. The counting stopped time was up and he was looking for me and I won he didnt find me so he yelled for me to tell him where I was. I told him the bathroom and said show me. As we both went in the bathroom he locked the door behind him and he said, "Wow that was a good hiding spot do you want to know what your prize is?" I had a smile on my face and said yes...he put his hand over my mouth and raped me. I cried and kicked and tried to fight but he was to big and strong. When he was done he told me, " You dont tell anyone about this or ill get you and ill kill your dog in front of you." I had a blue nose pitbull named Angel that I saved as a puppy and she was the only thing I loved more than my own life. I listened to him and I wiped my eyes and walked back to the camp and went straight to my dog and layed on the ground with her. I watched him come back to the family and act as if nothing happened and I hated him. My dog was the sweetest dog ever she never hurt a soul but when I layed down with her she sniffed me and licked my face but her ears were back and her hair was standing up. She knew something hurt me. When I took her off her leash to go to bed with me she ran straight toward that bastard and attacked him. My brothers pulled Angel off of him and that night as I cried myself to sleep from the pain in my body I felt safe. If I never had that dog that night I would have been a mess. My step mom went back to hitting me and as I got older my birth mother started to beat me which was even worse cause I lived with her. The day Angel died a piece of me left with her. That dog was the only thing on earth that showed me real love and she protected me when no one else did. As im growing my life is getting harder but im stronger and smarter. I deal with the beatings they may hurt my body physicaly but not mentally.

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed122

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

when i was 5 or 6 and my male cousin was a teenager he would kiss me and french kiss me and then try to talk me into proforming oral on him but i dont think i even did and he got me thinkin we would get in trouble if we got caught so if i heard someone coming i would freak out and tell him then we would act like nothing happened this happed for a while until i moved im 15 now and hes married and i needed to get this off my chest even if it is to strangers

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Child Abuse Story From Nick

by Nick
(Arizona, USA)

I had a decent family. I thought. I didn't realize my mom was nuts and my father was basically a shell for some dark anger accumulated for his father. I honestly can't remember much before elementary school. And what I do remember I just don't care to think about. I worry that one day I will have no recollection of my childhood. I don't even know if thats normal. I can say however, that up until I became an adult (two years ago) I still thought my life and the people involved in it were normal. I was an 18 year old boy, graduated high school a semester early and was on my way to rehab. Again. I had no choice. I had no work ethic and no ability to support myself on my own and my only option was to go to an adult wilderness program in Utah or be homeless (I found out later that these two are the same). My parents cornered me again. They were right. I was addicted to black tar heroine and I had just lost my job at a restaurant. I had plans to attend college. As I am writing this, I have only completed ONE math class. So everyone, agree with me that my parents did the right thing. OK. Now lets rewind the Nick Tape. Oh, say, back to when I was just 16 years old. I was attending a military academy. It was most certainly not my choice to be there, but I was making the best of it. I had fun, ok. Up until this point in my high school career, I had very decent grades (3.5 gpa). I had been to two other high schools prior, but was asked to leave those, for varied tangents of the same reason. Pot. I liked it. Everyone did. I drank a little too. I'm sure this isn't new news in the world of high school, but kids do drugs. I hadn't TOUCHED or SEEN another drug. Maybe cocaine once. But c'mon. I'm not a politicians kid. Back to the scene at hand, you see me smoking pot for the first time in almost a year at the military academy. I get kicked out that day. I still to this day wish I wasn't high that day with all my heart head and soul. But life... I come back to my hometown and stay with my father and my step mom. Now, try, please, try to understand, I am depressed. I am SOOO depressed. Thoughts only depressed people understand are coming and going constantly. All I needed was a hand. Some direction. Maybe some advice. But it looks as though my parents couldn't handle my rampages (me not saying anything, depressed, leaving my house because my father/mother wants to fight). I feel as though looking back at it, I was raised by clowns. Angry, brutal vicious clowns. I remember to this day as clear as eagle vision, my mother beating me for cutting a picture out of a magazine. Right where a coupon happened to be. I was raised so hypocritically that my own head is hypocritical of itself and causes me to be ridiculously indecisive and depressed. I am so used to my parents touching me and feeling me and I JUST HATE BEING TOUCHED. I like it when a girl touches me, or a homeboy with a high five. I instantly get fueled if my dad (who still will try this) pats me on the head. Or if my mom tries to comfort me. Somethings just not right here. Back to the topic, I basically am home two days from the military academy and its three o'clock in the morning. I am awakened by two men standing over me, holding me down. WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO/THINK? I admit it, I was a scared kid, sh*t scared me. This SCARED me. They handcuffed me and took me to Utah (for the first time). I want to share that I had no addiction prior to this rehab (that has recently been closed due to abuse) and I admit I was slightly rebellious, but no more than my sister, who at this time was dealing drugs to all my friends. I remember my first day at Sunhawk Academy. That was the day I lost all ambition and hope in my life. I was never going to leave. I was immersed in a pool of adolescent criminals, half of whom were there as a 2nd chance from juvi. I remember losing my dignity, spreading my cheeks as a young, confused boy in front of two huge Samoan gentlemen, who I later befriended, unfriended and eventually befriended again. I have too much to say about this realm. So I'll stick with what matters. I came there a semi stoner with slight anger towards the world (wow sounds like a normal kid) and left with many new friends who shared the sh*tstorm that was Sunhawk. Now I had no knowledge of hard drugs starting there but leaving, I knew stuff about DMT, E, Tweek, Speedballs, h, black tar, snow capping, etc. I had met a guy from the same town as me and we both "graduated" the program around the same week. HE was a dope head (h) when he got there and when we left, I was a dope fiend before I even tried heroine. I was hooked my whole last semester of high school. I literally had no idea these feelings existed. And not only that but my parents bought me a car and an apartment after I got back in school and had a job. So I was feeling like everything was right, maybe Sunhawk helped me! And here we are, with Nick, 18, been in rehab from age 16-17 (8 months inpatient, 1 hr a day outside) and now he is posed the question: wilderness rehab or homelessness? Of course I knew what I was doing was bad, so I went to rehab for real this time, as an adult, willing to be there. I thought I was some kind of accomplished drug addict. I was pretty good at fitting in at rehab. I am getting very tired of writing and am procrastinating greatly on leaving my house, but I want to wrap this up in a way where you can have a slight understanding of how this is abuse/destroyed my life and now I am dealing with it on my own. I was basically thrown into a prison for 8 months for smoking pot and I am surrounded by the worst of the worst of the worlds drug and behavioral problems. I have no idea what I was supposed to learn from this experience. I really feel like my anger problems stem from not only the many many millions of situations my parents and I have been in, but mostly from this wrapped simple version: "My parents threw me into an ocean of heroine and expected me to walk over it like Jesus." I have really been thinking lately that if there was a way to sue my parents for slander (telling everyone I was an addict until I became one) or mental/physical trauma (dad broke a bow over my legs/very violent)(psychological terror i.e. My mom told me she could kill me and only go to jail for a couple years because I am her child.)

I am currently on diversion for my first offenses as an adult. Last year I had gotten into pills and became homeless and did robberies and got caught. I had no control of anything, just like how my life was prior to drugs. I am struggling in school and cannot get work because of background checks. I haven't done opiates in almost a year, but I have smoked pot and drank. I am really nice and non judgmental to others and really enjoy nature. I really wish I had my girlfriend back but thats life. Every word I say is life. I guess the stereotypical family would have been nice. I really gotta go but if you know anyone else in a similar situation, they aren't alone!

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Child Abuse Story From Arian P

by Arian P
(Nebraska, USA)

When I was about 8 months old my mom and dad had gotten a divorce and he moved out leaving me with my mom. I just remember growing up guy after guy coming in and out of my home. I didn't know it then but now I realize how many guys my mom was having sex with since my dad had been gone. Three years later my mom got with I--- & he has been my step dad ever since. In my eyes he was my dad because my real dad was never around. My mom worked a lot so he was there alone with me a lot of the times. He would give my baths & watch me play in the water. I just remember him looking at me like I was a super model with no clothes on, 6 years old no body figure, yet he had such interest. As I got older it just got worse, twelve years old I started to get a figure & lost all of my baby fat that's when he really started being nice to me. He would make me wear these skimpy out fits or sometimes nothing at all. He would take picture of me on his cell phone & jack off to my body I as I stood there & cryed. He would make my give him hand jobs and blow jobs all of the time. But eventually I guess he got bored of that & snuck into my room while I was sleeping, I woke up to him rubbing my breasts, and told me it was okay. He started rubbing my in the wrong places so I moved away but that just made him angry. He got on top of me and stuck it in me.... like he wanted to rip me in half... he took my virginity that night. At 12 years old I no longer had my innocence. I told on him to my counselor at school and she called CPS but my mom didn't believe me. She was told he had to move out & there was not allowed any contact, but she would invite him over and he was there anyway...
I don't remember a lot of what happened, i pushed it back so far in my brain.
One thing I will never forget is him making me give him a blow job & me crying asking him to stop, my mom walked into the room saw what was going on, I thought finally... finally she will believe me. She yelled at him and pushed him out side. I could hear them yelling at each other, him crying saying I was coming on to him, that it wasn't his fault. She came inside... and called me a sl*t and told me I was trying to ruin what she had. My own mother, chose a sick twisted man over her daughter.
I am now 16 with a 1 year old daughter. And I thank God for her everyday. I can't understand how my mom believed him. If my daughter were to tell me something like that happened to her I'd kill him. No question about it.
Some people don't deserve to be parents. I am now in a foster home with great parents. All of this has traumatized me but has made me a strong person & the mother I need to be for my baby girl.

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Child Abuse Story From Maria

by Maria
(USA)

Im 15 and ive been emotionally abused by my mom and step dad sense i could even talk. My step use to make me and my sister stand in push up position for an half an hour because we scared my brother with a toy. When i was 13 i stood up to him and told him i wasnt going to go to my room and he can make me, so he grab my arm and flung me off the couch. I told my mom and she didnt believe me. That was the last time he ever physically hurt me. My mom always says im a b**** and a c***. She always finds a way to hurt me and my older sister. She doesnt like to se us cry because she knows she hurt us but she doesnt care. She called my older sister a tramp for wanting to hang out with her boyfriend today. She calls me annorexic just because im 5 foot 5 and weigh 128 pounds. My little half brother and half sister dont have so hard as me and my older sister do. I just dont know what to do. My friends complain about their lives at school and i sit there with a smile on my face. I cant explain to them my situation at home because then they would take things out of hand. I dont have an parental figure i can turn to for comfort and just cry and have them tell me its gonna be all right. My older sister is a year older than me and she acts like a mother to me. I'm not stupid my grade point average is in the 90's and the only thing that keeps me from just emotionally breaking down is basketball. Ive never had a boyfriend before and i have a lot of friends but half of them complain and the other half could care less. No one know how much i want a scholarship so i dont have to live here anymore. Child services are horrible at their job, they sit there and do nothing about other kids i know that are being emotionally abused by their own parent. People that emotionally abuse their children should not have kids. All those talk shows are just another publicity stunt. They dont care about ordinary average people today. they only look for the juciest story. I just wanted the to let people know my story and know their not alone. Im gonna make it through this and go to college and be able to get out of this house hopefully.

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Note from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Lyndsey G

by Lyndsey G
(England)

From as young as i can possibly remember until the age of about 13 i was sexually abused by my uncle - the husband of my Aunty (mams sister). I was a very shy and withdrawn child and have always suffered with confidence issues - i put all of this down to him and what follows.

He would expose himself to me , masturbate infront of me, get me to touch him and he would touch me. He got braver as the years passed. He even did it when my aunty and cousin were in the house. I always knew when it was going to happen, he would change from his jeans to jogging bottoms so that he could quickly pull them up if he heard someone coming.

i loved going to my auntys house but hated him being there. He worked on the oil riggs and i would try and only visit when he was not there. It did not work though, my mam would tell me to stop being silly, dont spoil her night out etc as she would have no baby sitter.

He took the lock off the bathroom door at their house so that he could walk in when i was in the bath, he would come in what was my bedroom at their house to visit me during the night.

i was continually told by him that it was my fault, that i would be in trouble if i told, that no one would believe me, that i was dirty and digusting. He ruled my childhood and teens. At the age of about 14 i had enough of it and it was tell or end my misery myself, i sat in the bath at home one night and wrote a letter to one of my teachers telling them what had happened, i put it in an envelope to take to school the following day. I pushed it under the door of the teachers office and ran. I was so scared i was going to be in so much trouble. I went back to the office to try and retrieve it but it was too late the teacher was there.

i got called to the teachers office not so long after that and asked about what i had wrote, one of the other teachers was there aswel as she was the "child protection" teachers. They put me in the library by myself while they called my mam and dad into school, told them what had happened then gave us a lift home. What happens after this is just as bad, all my mam said to me about this was "im not reporting it because your aunt (his wife) is not well and could not cope with it". So that was that, nothing happened apart from i did not have to go back to that house any more, but he lived straight opposite my school and would sit there every day watching me. My aunt was never even told about it and he was not confronted about it. i still felt as bad and as alone in the world as i did in the first place, i felt not believed.

at the age of 15 my dad died suddenly after an operation, he was my world. I was very close to my father and have never been close to my mam, she is anything but maternal. A few month later my mam threw me out and i had no where to go other than my cousins house (the son of THAT uncle). I got housed by the council a few month later but during that time had to put up with my uncle visiting the house, when my cousin was away at work (the Navy) my uncle would come and let himself in the house knowing i was there alone.

when i was 18 i found out my cousin had a baby girl, i knew i had to say something as if anything happened to her it would be my fault. So i told my aunty and she went off it with me, she even got the police onto me saying that she wanted me "done" for lying. I told the police what had happened, they took a statement and nothing else happened.

a few yrs later when i had my own son i again contacted the police with the support of my midwife, the police scared the living daylights out of me about what may / may not happen, they were not at all supportive and told me that it was just my word against his, no physical evidance and he would probs get away with it. I couldnt put myself through that for nothing so withdrew my statement.

in the last few yrs it has came out that it was not just me , there was 6 of us that i know of, my elder brother being one of them , he is 11yr older than me, if he said something it may never have happened to me or the others. I have suffered with depression my whole life because of this man, i hate him with everything. He destroyed my life. I had a bad relationship with my sons father, he was alcoholic and violent, when i ended the relationship the depression landed again, i was off work for a while. As a result my employment from the local authority where i had worked for 9yrs was ended. I could not pay my mortgage, my house was reposessed, and i was made bankrupt. its only in the last 2yrs (im now 29) that i have started to build my life back up. He still lives in the same house beside the same school living with my aunt.

my aunt and mam had an argument a few wks ago (i speak to neither of them - none of my family infact) and the issue was raised about me being a liar ! after all these yrs my brother eventually decided to tell my aunt what happened to him. she went to the doctors and told them, the GP wanted to contact the police but she would not let him. she is still living with him but the house is now for sale. I wish he were behind bars and shown for what he is, what he has done to me and the effect it still has on my life.

sorry its so long, just felt like i had to spill it all out.

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Child Abuse Story From Lianna

by Lianna
(USA)

I was a victim of child abuse since about kindergarten and am now a senior in high school. My mothers boyfriends always came before me and my two brothers. i went to foster care for three years while my mom became drug free but i still feel anger towards her. we physically fight, she tells me she hates me and a lot of stuff.. shes bipolar and i hate it. my dad was schizophrenic and died four years ago. my real story is my whole life but maybe one day ill share everything.

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Note from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

I hope you'll follow me on:


Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in submissions and visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited. Please don't include them, as they will be removed.