I Was Raped At 7 Years Old…

Ever since I can remember I had never had the love or attention of my parents. My mom was more worried about looking pretty and making sure my dad wasn’t cheating on her than her 3 daughters.

My oldest sister was 15, the other one that followed was 14 and I was 7, I also had a 2 year old little brother at the time. My “Father” had been abusing my two sisters all their life. He started raping them when they each turned 13. My sisters showed and told my mother what was going on; they would show her their bloody privates but she never cared – or I guess her marriage to a sick man was more important than the well-being of her daughters.
I was very young, all I remember was one incident of him on top of me and my mom saying he should stop because he was going to suffocate me, I was crying. I have no other memories of my childhood; none at all. He died that year 1987. He did scar us forever. My sisters have not been able to have a normal relationship ever since and neither had I until I found Jesus.
After my Dad died we moved to my mother’s hometown in Mexico with my grandmother and uncle, aunts and lots of cousins. Soon after we arrived, one of my male cousins who was 13 years old at the time started abusing me: he would touch my breasts and my private part. It went on for years, until I was 13. At around 10 years old my other cousin who was about 19 at the time started tongue kissing me and grabbing my behind and rubbing himself on me.
We finally moved to the States after that, to Chicago. And my mom’s Puerto Rican boyfriend started to touch me too. Again no one did anything about it. I felt like no one cared.
I was told that I could use my body as a weapon to get what I wanted. My grandmother told me I should be a stripper or a high class prostitute (is there such thing?). My mother said I should just look for rich old guys and take their money for sex. It was no surprise I ended up going off with a 43 year old rich man when I was only 17 after my own mother’s advice. It only lasted 4 months and I came back home with a child in me; my most beautiful treasure, my wonderfully smart boy! God meant for him to be born, and I love him very much.
My son was two years old when I met who I thought was my prince charming! He was handsome, polite, smart and sooo nice to me. We moved in together after 6 months of dating. Right after that he started abusing me. He used to call me names from slut, prostitute, stupid, ugly, he said I was good for nothing and the only reason he was with me was so I could clean the house and he could have sex with me. He said he was too lazy to masturbate so he might as well use me.
After a while, I actually believed him: I believed that I was ugly, stupid, dumb and that I couldn’t do anything right. I didn’t have his permission to speak to my mom, or any family member, I had no friends. I tried committing suicide twice, but the thought of my son being alone made me think twice and Thanks to My wonderful God I never made it happened.
Two years after we got together, we had a beautiful baby girl, and I thought that would change him – it didn’t. He would choke me, push me, slap me, rape me. It lasted 8 horrible years.

Please don’t let no one treat you that way, God meant for us to live happy in victory and in His presence. NO ONE deserves to live in fear, abused by no one. Make a stop to this as soon as you can, a man that has always beaten you or abused you verbally will NOT change. GET OUT! You deserve to be HAPPY.

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