It's a known fact that sharks smell blood in the water and swim straight to it. Just when I thought it was safe to feel freedom, the shark must have smelled blood because another abuser came into my life. As I go back into my mind that's what I see, a shark swimming around me, her fin sticking out of the water getting closer and closer until the attack! Yes, I said she remember a molester does not have to be a male. I knew freedom for about three years and then a new babysitter came into my life.
As usual my parents worked weekends and the lady who had taken care of me had become ill and wasn't able to watch me any longer. My hope was that my mom would stop working weekends and stay home, but that wasn't happening and now I had a new babysitter. At first like most abusers she was nice, letting me watch programs I liked and giving me freedom to play with kids when they were around. I actually thought she was cool. She was in her senior year of High School and would watch me after school until my mom came home and then always on the weekends. However, she liked the boys, mostly "hoods" that's what rebellious kids were called back in my day.
On the weekends I would have to stay with her Friday night, Saturday night, and all day Sunday. I also had to sleep in the same bed with her, I hated that and I never understood why since there was another bedroom. However, that was the rule and therefore I obeyed. In her house was a basement and in one corner of the basement was an area that had a curtain around it with a mattress on the floor. I always thought it was strange but never really gave it that much thought. I liked going in the basement, we played music, danced and sang, those were fun times. One day the fun stopped and again the HELL began.
"Come over here Debbie and give me a message, my back hurts" she said. I was always giving my big brother messages so I thought nothing of it. Then she told me to start rubbing her in personal spots and I said NO. She told me that if I didn't do as she said she would tell my mom I was bad then I would be grounded from playing with the kids after school and would have to stay in her house all the time. She became mean and the look in her eyes scared me, so although I hated it, I touched her where ever she told me to. It started to happen more often, and at times would occur in my parents own bed. OH, how I hated the control she had over me. I was her puppet and she was pulling the strings, this went on for one long year.
I can remember sitting and watching Lassie on Sunday evenings and when Lassie would put her paw up at the end of the show, silent tears would fall down my face. Partly because I wished that Lassie could save me, and also because I knew my mom would be coming to get me soon. My babysitter would laugh at me and call me a baby. To this day when I watch an old episode of Lassie, the memories come flooding back.
Silly me, I thought I was safe when I heard a girl was going to watch me. That's when I learned that gender plays no part in sexual abuse. It matters not whether you are the victim or the abuser, gender has no boundries. I would wonder what I had done that was so wrong for my life to be so ugly and dark!
As my babysitter was getting ready for graduation, I was informed that she wouldn't be watching me any longer. Hallelujah, I was excited. My abuser was going to be gone and maybe just maybe my mom would be staying home with me. But that was not to be, for yet again I was on my way to a new sitter. What awaited me, I didn't know. I had learned not to be excited about anything anymore, and was so broken inside that whatever was going to happen to me was my own HELL to deal with.
I begged my mom to stay home with me, but she said she needed to work. My parents owned two taverns at that time and she was responsibile for one, or so she said. You know my mother was raised in church, but while she was working she didn't go so neither did I. Oh, I was told about God and sang the songs such as "Jesus Loves the Little Children" and every now and then my older sister would take me to church. I loved the feeling I had when I went to church, I felt so clean afterwards. When I would hear teaching where Jesus said "suffer the little children to come unto me", I always thought it meant the children who were suffering and in my young mind I wondered why Jesus didn't come to me. He was there, I know that now, but my parents were more involved with making money. I just wish they had read the word in Proverbs 28:20 [A faithful man shall abound with blessings: but he that maketh haste to be rich shall not be innocent].
I can't help but feel they had a hand in my abuse by not being there, by not caring when I cried and begged them not to leave me. I'm sure now that if I would have just told them what was happening, they would have put a stop to it. However, I'm not so sure if my mom would have stopped working or just found me another babysitter. Silence is an abusers best friend. I had many babysitters in my young life, not all of them sexually abused me, but some were cruel and one put me through a different HELL. I'll have to leave that story for another time, for I'm too weary to share it now this story has left me depleted.
However, I must tell you I am feeling lighter as I reclaim my life. I leave you with this verse that is a promise I stand on from Philippians 1:6 [I am sure that God who began the good work in you will keep on helping you grow in His grace until His task within you is finally finished on that day when Jesus Christ returns].
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