Me too. What a powerful movement!

This helps people understand it’s not just a Hollywood problem; it’s a societal problem. A problem that 1 in 2 women and 1 in 5 men experience!

I’ve seen several fellow bloggers sharing their experiences. They inspire me! I feel empowered to share my truth; I’m also a little afraid of the ramifications.

Isn’t that crazy?! We should not be afraid to speak out against evil!

In an effort to keep up our perfect social persona we often forget to be ourselves and live our truth.

Through this journey of wellness, I hope to incorporate all aspects of health.

Setting this free may increase my emotional well-being, and certainly increase awareness.

Here I am, pushing fear aside; and sharing one of my experiences.

I was 14 years old. It was someone my parents trusted. I trusted him too. I would babysit his children. I adored the children!

I watched the children while both parents were working. The dad would always get home first. He’d lovingly say hi to the kids and then go change out of his work clothes. The mom would usually come home about an hour later, and one of them would take me home. Usually, the dad would drive me home.

Everything was normal for a while, and I felt safe. Then things started to get weird. First, he would change with the door open, I’d look away or take the kids somewhere else to play. Somewhere I couldn’t see him. Then he started kinda walking around naked. Not really parading in front of me but almost like he was trying to get my attention. It was disgusting. I’d try to take the kids in their bedroom or maybe outside to avoid the awkwardness. I really tried to make it appear as though I hadn’t noticed his inappropriate behavior.

One day the kids were both sleeping when he got home. I don’t remember if he was early or if they were just taking late naps. But I remember what he did and how I felt!

He went to change clothes like normal, of course leaving the door open. Then he put on a robe. Yep, a robe. Strange.

I was sitting on the sofa, minding my own business and hoping the mom would get home soon. He sat down next to me, opened his robe and exposed his penis. I was shocked!  I had no idea what to do or why he was doing this. I wanted to yell and scream at him or run away. Instead, I stayed calm and looked away. I hoped he would cover up. I wanted to just continue ignoring his appalling behavior. But he didn’t cover up. I felt like this bad situation was going to get worse and I was terrified. I slowly stood up and walked into the kitchen as fast as I could, without being alarming, toward the phone.  I frantically called my father and begged him to come get me.

My father seemed annoyed at my request for a ride. But he agreed and said he’d be there as soon as he could. The man stood there listening, I tried to keep my voice calm, but I was exploding with emotion and desperately wanted to cry. I sat and anxiously waited for my ride.

Meanwhile, the dad went and put on clothes and sat back down on the sofa to watch the news. He acted as if nothing had happened.  The Mom arrived and said her husband could take me home.  I informed her my father was on his way. She made some comment about how that was unnecessary, and they would always provide me with a ride. I think she knew something was wrong or at least different. But she didn’t ask any questions.

When my father pulled up and both parents were home, he was really frustrated. He had to rearrange his day to come get me. I wanted to tell him he was rescuing me! I wanted to cry and explain I was afraid to be alone with that man. I wanted to tell him everything! But I didn’t have the words.

I stopped babysitting after that. I told everyone I was just too busy with school or whatever. My mother knew that wasn’t true and repeatedly asked me to tell her the real story. I couldn’t.  I didn’t know what to say or how to say it…would anyone even believe me? Was it really that big of a deal? I mean he didn’t actually touch me. Maybe I was just overreacting?

I stayed silent. My anxiety was worsening; I still had to be around that man. He was in our social circle. Instead of seeking help, I ate my feelings and stuffed them deep inside.

I literally repressed the memory! We moved away, and my interaction with him was limited.

15 years later…I moved back to town, and so did his family. Everyone was excited about the reunion, including me. Until I started having disturbing flashes of memory. At first, I didn’t realize they were actual memories. I thought I was sick for having these images of him pop in my head. I confided in a friend. She listened and said, I think those are real memories because he’s done it to others.

Wow! What?! He has done this multiple times?

I worked up the courage to tell my parents. They felt terrible! They suspected something happened but I wouldn’t talk about it, and they didn’t know what to do. I think we all realized some of my defiant behaviors as a teenager were linked to this traumatic situation.

I then told his wife. Honestly, she didn’t seem surprised.

With my parents by my side, I confronted him. He admitted it was true. But claims he wasn’t going to take it any further…as if what he did wasn’t bad. He described himself as an exhibitionist.

The trauma from what he did is real! I was able to forgive him, I had to in order to move past it. I had to learn to forgive myself too! I had tons of regret! Maybe if I had been brave and told someone, it would have prevented future abuse cycles.

Victims regret is common, rape culture feeds that regret. It’s a really hard thing to move past.

The only person to blame for abuse is the abuser.

This is my most traumatic me too story. Sadly I have many more.

I think it’s important to talk about specifics. Specific situations help educate people on the spectrum of abuse.

This movement is powerful. Not because of the abuse we share. But because of the abuse, harassment, and assault we will prevent!