02/20/2026
I was 8, when I first remember experiencing s*xual abuse by my aunt's husband. A man I had known and trusted, since I was an infant.
At first, it began with him watching corn videos in the living room, while I was asleep on the couch. He began waking me, encouraging me to watch. Then he began touching me. He put his mouth on me, and forced me to do the same to him. This continued for several years. He touched me anywhere, and every time he saw an opportunity. He would sneak into the bathroom while I was showering, he would touch me under my swimsuit in the family pool while his family was there, and unaware. I had begun sharing my expertise with my cousin who was a few years younger than me. It was then, that I fully realized that my uncle's actions were very wrong. I was 12, when I started to speak up. Not to an adult yet, but directly to him. I remember calling him disgusting, telling him to stop, and warning him to leave me alone or I would scream for my Aunt. I’ll never forget how scared I was, but also proud of myself for finding my voice in that moment. At 15, I told my parents with the help of my boyfriend at the time. My abuser had a daughter, and I couldn’t live with the fear that she might experience what I did. My parents believed every word, and immediately went to the authorities. My uncle was arrested and charged. My Aunt and her kids moved out of the house. She was devastated, but also believed every word. Not once was my honesty questioned.
I went to court, but in the end there wasn’t enough evidence. He walked free. That was devastating. For years, I wondered if speaking up even mattered. But deep down, I know it did because speaking up protected my cousin, and maybe others too. That truth gives me peace. In the years that followed, my relationships were rocky. I often carried a deep sense of fear when getting close to anyone. It was hard to trust, hard to connect, hard to just be. That fear became a quiet part of my life, something I didn’t always talk about, but felt deeply. Now, as a mother to a daughter of my own, this part of my story takes on an even deeper meaning. I hope she grows up never knowing what it feels like to be silenced. I hope she always feels safe, seen, and heard. I hope she uses her voice freely, boldly, and without fear — because her voice matters, just like mine does, and just like yours does too. 💛 I still have moments of fear. There are places and situations that make me feel unsafe, and that’s something I continue to work through. Healing isn’t about forgetting, it’s about taking your power back. So this is me, doing that. Owning my story, and taking back control of my life. If you’ve ever felt misunderstood, silenced, or unsure of who you are, please know you’re not alone. Your story matters. And when you’re ready, it’s okay to take control too. 💛 You are never alone in your healing. If this post brings up difficult feelings, please reach out — to a trusted friend, a counselor, or one of the many support lines available. There is help, and there is hope. 💛
You can help a child protect themselves from abusers, by gifting them a FREE Tell Somebody book! đź“š gofundme.com/GiveAFreeBook
Child abusers, please stop and seek therapy and God.
Parents, talk with and believe your children. ❤️
Survivors, seek therapy. 💪🏽
(To share your story of abuse, message me)
www.TellSomebodyToday.com
