The first time..

“It will be okay.” he whisphered in my ears. My first molester… my 14 year old step brother.

It hurt. The scratching pain inside of my little body from his uncut disgusting nails. I was 4 .. maybe 5 can’t really say.. I just I know I had not started Kindergarden yet.

I remember my dad & step mother purchased this new house in Bremerton, WA. It was a brand new build, 4 bedrooms, in a cudlesace. My real dad Bob remarried Myra within a year 1.5 years of his divorce with my mother. Myrahad two children, Lee & Riza. We had to been in the new house no longer than a month because we were still sleeping on the floor. My stepbrother was the only one of all 4 of us that had a TV in the children’s bedroom. Of course he had it because he was the oldest. After a night of video games, junk food & sibiling bonding. I eventually fell asleep on the floor, we built the most comfortable ‘fort’ 4 kids can build with pillows & comforters.

He had long nails, specifically his ring finger. Lee always said it was for picking his boogers, I’m pretty conviced he used it to do coke. He scratch me on his way into my young body as he forced his fingers into me. I woke up in a sharp pain & as soon I tried to make a sound, he covered my mouth with his free hand, whispered the words that continue to haunt me til today and continued for what felt like forever. My biological brother was literally right next to me while his biological sister was on the other side of him but Lee did not care.. he took what he wanted.

I’ve ran this scenario in my head many many times and as the days pass, the details slowly start fading away. All the details except THAT very moment. I do not remember how it made me feel, I do not even know if I was confused. I never mentioned this to my father or biological brother as I was unsure what truly happened… I’ve always wondered what if I did say something? Would things have been different for me? Would the abuse have stopped then? But then I think….. this isn’t even where the beginning of my trauma started.

Healing is possible..

I’m sitting here not really sure how to start a blog but here I go. I ask nothing but support and understanding when reading my blogs. Which I’m sure I can’t avoid some assholes commenting but oh well.

My 35th is literally 4 days away and when I say “I’ve been through some shit” believe me .. I’ve been through some shit. I’ve always joked around growing up that I should write a book cause I’ve got one hell of a story to share. Thing is.. I’ve always been to damn scared to start.. but look at me now!

My goal in writing this blog is really to let others know that healing is possible. It’s going to be hard- but it’s worth trying.

I guess I should start by letting you know a little about my life currently.

I’ve been married for 14 years to my highschool sweetheart and we have two beautiful daughters. Oldest is turning 15 in a few weeks & my youngest is 10. They both play travel softball (talented as fuck, not just saying this cause they are my children), both very smart, well behaved & smart as hell. I don’t really see people based on their class but- per America’s definition we are considered middle class.

I’ll stop here for now- I really want to take my time in telling my story. The best way I feel I can tell it is blog by blog, topic by topic. I hope someone follows me on this journey.. Until next time….