TW: Graphic Sexual Abuse Mentioned
I was fourteen when I had my first job. I worked at a fast-food restaurant. One of my dad’s most memorable sayings was, “What are you going to do for me?” Or “I’ll take it out in trade…” If I needed a ride to work, I had to make sure his needs were satisfied first. It happened with almost everything. If he needed to spend money on me, or if I wanted something special, I had to earn it by performing sexual deeds for him or posing nude in photos for him. I would feel so dirty… He would suggest several times I allow others (someone my dad trusted) to pay me for my services, or that someone asked if I would be interested in “spending time with them”, essentially try to pimp me out. I couldn’t do it though. I could never allow someone else to touch me like that, I felt vile, and honestly, I think my dad was testing me to see what I would say.
He often left me money after. I was afraid to tell the state Troppers and investigators this because I thought that I was complacent in “allowing” him to use me like that. They told me its normal for abusers to do that. That is how I “earned” a new bookbag, a cell phone, or feminine products, things I needed. Again, I thought it was something I had to do to earn things I couldn’t pay for on my own. I stopped asking to go on field trips, or school gatherings, or for the big life things teens are supposed to experience because he would always want to take it out in trade. I had to trade my body. My will was not my own.
*TW Sexual Abuse-Graphic
I remember a bit more every so often, and it’s difficult to talk about. I still haven’t spoken these details.
I’m in my late teens approximately, and one of the other things he liked was to have me lay on my side, while he was behind me, naked. (Lord guide me. Calm my spirit Lord.) He would place himself in between my legs and rub himself on me. He would be on top sometimes to. Sometimes he would be very, very close to (Jesus calm my stomach) my vagina and backside. Multiple occasions he would “accidently” be way to close to both, and he would even ask “just the tip?” I think he was trying to see how far I would let him go without resisting, but that was something that was sacred to me. I was not going to let him take that from me.
I often slept with a folding knife under my mattress, and I would have a plan if things got too violent, I would imagine stabbing him in the ribs if he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I was willing to die for my virginity. I hated myself for having to have escape plans and such because I still did love my father. I think that’s why this was so hard to talk about.
My dad would involve my stepmom Daisy on the sexual abuse, and I know you won’t understand this from an outside perspective, but I felt safer that she was there. She never abused me on her own, and it was always under my dad’s commands. He paid more attention to her when she was there, but I still had to do things to both of them, and he would guide me and tell me how to please her as well. I wasn’t afraid of Daisy, but I did feel like we were trapped, together. As I got older, I realized she had a choice as well, and as an adult, whether or not she was afraid of my dad, she could have reached out. she could have said something to someone.
I believe she did try to protect us in her own way, I never felt any mal intent from her. I do have a soft spot for Daisy, but I can’t explain that in a way others who don’t know what it’s like to understand. I felt, we were surviving my father together. She understood. She would hide things from my dad and allow us to have as normal a teenage life as possible when he wasn’t around. When it came time for him to come home everything would go back to “normal”. I started smoking cigarettes in my mid-teens, and she would help me hide that from my dad. I know it’s probably not the best thing, but it was something I could control. It was my choice. I had no control over anything. I hid it well until one day he caught me. And that was a very brutal beating for me. I think this is when he held the lighter to my hand.
I also wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend. If I showed an interest in someone, my dad would get furious, call me a whore, a slut, and say I was to promiscuous and naive, that all they would want from me is my body. I felt confused at this because that was exactly what he was doing to me. I even questioned him on it, and it was not a good thing to do.He slapped me for comparing the two. I was not allowed to question why my father was allowed to do something… Like I said, as I got older, I would start to deny him more… I would start to feel like something was wrong. I even told him one day that this would have to stop, that I would eventually move out, and want to start a family and he made me feel like it was a ridiculous thought, that I would never be free.
I did have a “boyfriend” in high school. My stepmom knew, and my trusted friend knew as well. We did everything we could to keep it secret. My stepmom would allow me to go on dates when my dad was at work, or on a business trip. At that time, my teenage brain really did like this boy. He was genuine, sweet, and got me gifts. He never expected me to “put out”. He understood to a point that I was shy and didn’t need a lot of material things. One day, he asked me when I was going to tell my father about us. I told him I couldn’t. He didn’t understand, my dad would kill me. He would have beat me so bad if he found out and I was terrified of that. I would be “soiled” in my father’s eyes if I ever allowed anyone else to touch me without his permission (in general, I wasn’t sexually active— not by choice). I tried to open up to him about what my father did, but I don’t think he understood, or it didn’t register at the time. Shortly after, he called me on my cell phone (I was allowed to have one for work) and gave me an ultimatum; to tell my dad about us, or he had to move on. He couldn’t be in a secret relationship. I was devastated because I really liked him, yet another person left me, and I was heartbroken and angry. We did remain friends after, and I realize we weren’t meant to be anyway and that was okay. God had other plans for me.