Day 3

1986

I was spending the night at my friends house.

She had invited another friend of hers...a much older friend.

He decided he liked me & spent a couple hours attempting to get me to kiss him.

He even accused me of racism saying I wouldn't kiss him because he was black.

I answered it had nothing to do with the colour of his skin but everything to do with him being 10 years older than me.

I eventually got tired & fell asleep.

When I woke up the next morning he was gone.

I've often wondered if he tried anything while I was sleeping.

I was 16.  He was 26.

1987

One of my friends & I decided we liked each other more than friends so we dated for awhile. 

He kept trying to force me to touch him. 

I didn't want to. 

It made me feel dirty. 

I knew it was wrong somehow. 

He kept touching me.

I didn't want him to.

He didn't want to stop.

Every time he touched me I froze.

Almost as if my soul & mind went somewhere else for the moment.

I never told him why.  I didn't know how. 

So I kept quiet.

Our relationship ended later that year.  Probably because he wanted to have sex & I just couldn't go there.  Not again.  Not yet.

1989/1990

I was on a cruise with my parents...as it turns out, the last family vacation we would have with my Dad. 

I had a wonderful time. 

I had just turned 19.  Drank legally for the first time.  Enjoyed the attention our waiter paid to me. 

I was young, foolish & naive. 

I'd never really dated much in high school. 

I always ignored any guys that liked me more than a friend. 

It was easier keeping guys as friends...nothing more.

Besides, I thought, who would ever want me? 

Then the waiter asked me on a date.  I was thrilled, so I said yes. 

Instead of meeting up with him as scheduled, I fell asleep. 

The excitement of an older guy being interested in me tired me out I suppose.  When I woke up, I was upset.  Pissed off at myself, depressed over it even.  I've got a photo of myself from that night looking pretty down. 

The next night I apologized profusely to him, begged him to give me a second chance.  G-d was I stupid. 

We met up that night.  He showed me the employees' quarters...rather spartan & dismal compared to the luxurious decor & accommodations the passengers enjoyed. 

We finally got to his room. 

He opened the door, ushered me in & quietly locked the door...to give us privacy he said.

He took me in his arms & began kissing me. 

Then he led me to the bed. 

He said we were going to have a great time. 

He kept kissing me while he tried to remove my top. 

I said no...I'm not ready for this. 

I told him I was a virgin. (As far as I was concerned I was a virgin.  I knew I wasn't but it hadn't been my choice back then so I tried to pretend it didn't happen.)

He couldn't believe it but I insisted I was. 

Then he pinned me down & got on top of me. 

I kept saying no, struggling to get up but he was so damn strong.  I remember being surprised at how strong he was considering how slender & wiry he was built.

He kept grabbing me, touching me. 

I kept saying No, Stop. 

He just ignored what I was saying & kept holding my wrists down. 

I’m not sure when he removed his pants but I could feel him.

I didn't want this to happen. 

I started to cry. 

Then the door opened.  It was his roommate.  He saw what was going on & grabbed the waiter off of me.  He held him off while I quickly put my top back on.  I ran out the door & didn't stop until I was in my stateroom. 

I took a shower to wash away my shame.

I didn't want my parents to know I'd done something so fucking stupid. 

I also didn't want any problems during the remainder of our cruise.

So I kept quiet.

I was 19.  He was 29.

1991/1992

On a cold evening in March 1991, my brother picked me up from college.  He had a friend sitting in the back seat.  We were briefly introduced.

Our relationship developed into something other than a fling.

I decided that he would be the first I slept with. 

This time it would me MY choice.

It was amazing at first but then it got awkward. 

Then terrifying. 

As he tried to enter me, I froze. 

I kept seeing their faces hovering over mine. 

I kept feeling the drowning weight of them on top of me. 

I couldn’t breathe. 

I kept having flashbacks of that summer. 

Each time we had sex those flashbacks came back with a vengence. 

I didn’t understand why my body kept rejecting him. 

I didn’t know how to tell him what was going on. 

I was ashamed.

Embarrassed.

Mortified. 

So I kept quiet. 

Our relationship ended that summer.

1992

I was dating a good friend of mine. 

I trusted him implicitly. 

We started having sex. 

I froze each time. 
My mind & soul disconnecting with what was going on.

I wasn’t there.

He noticed & eventually stopped caring about it. 

He used me & I let him.

He thanked me each time as if I was some cheap whore who was just doing her job.

I hated him for that.

I hated me for allowing it to continue.

I couldn’t tell him what was wrong. 

I didn’t know how to tell him.

So I kept quiet.

Our relationship ended that autumn.

1993

My mother & I were sitting in the living room...her, lecturing me on how to be a better person...me, ignoring her as usual.

She finally asked what my problem was.

I asked her about the operation I had the summer I was 7 years old.

She insisted I never had an operation. 

I insisted I did. 

I insisted that her brother took me to have it. 

She had no idea what I was talking about & told me to stop lying.

That’s the moment.

That was when it dawned on me what had actually happened that summer.

I began crying.

She asked me why I was crying.

I couldn’t tell her the reason...

So I kept quiet.

And I promised myself nobody would ever use me that way again.

And I haven’t let them.

Day 2

On the way home, I didn't dare say a word.
I just listened.
And stared straight ahead into traffic.
He said I was a good girl.
He told me it was a secret.
Only between us.
Nobody else was to know.
If I told anyone, they wouldn't believe me.

So I kept quiet.

When we finally got back to my grandparent's house, I ran to the kitchen & hugged her as tight as I could, never wanting to let go. 
Eventually I had to let go though. 
She was cooking dinner. 
I don't know if she knew I was upset...by that age I had already learned not to cry.
Crying just made everything worse.

So I kept quiet.

And started to eat.

When my parents dropped me off at my grandparent's house that summer, I was a really slender kid.
So slender that my brother & I resembled twins even though I'm nearly two years older.
When my parents came back to pick us up, they were met by a very chubby, sullen, withdrawn girl who was very happy to see them.
But the light & laughter was gone from my eyes & from my spirit.
I knew the truth but I couldn't say a word.

So I kept quiet. 
And kept that little broken girl hidden from the world. 
Terrified that something far worse would happen.
I kept my eyes open as long as I could before falling asleep.
I surrounded myself with as many of my stuffed animals as I could, praying each night they would keep me safe.

As the days passed into weeks and then months and finally years, the events of that summer stayed in the back of my mind.  No matter how hard I tried to push those memories away, they stayed.  Always reminding me of what a horrible person I was. 

1980
My parents went out with friends, leaving my brother & I to fend for ourselves.  It was common back then to leave kids under the age of 10 alone at home.  At least in my world.

The doorbell rang.
My brother got to the door first & opened it.
It was him.
I stood there, terrified.  Angry.
My brother hugged & kissed him as if he was G-d.  I refused.
I grabbed my brother away from him & told him to leave.
Mom & Dad didn't like us having company over when they weren't home.
My brother thought I was crazy.  This was 'our' beloved uncle.  Yours, not mine.  I said.
I demanded he leave. 
He wanted to talk to me.  Alone.
You can't be here right now.  Mom will be mad. 
I stood my ground.  He saw he wasn't getting anywhere.  He left.
I was safe once more. 

1980-1981
Times were tough.  We moved into my grandparents' basement apartment.  Actually he lived in the apartment.  My parents, brother & I were forced into a small room where we all slept.

He walked into the small kitchenette. 
I was at the dining room table doing homework.
Nobody else was home.
He asked me to spot him while lifting weights.
He always asked me to spot him.  Only if nobody was home.  And only with the door closed.
Genesis was playing.  He always played Genesis.
He asked how his muscles looked.
I didn't answer.
He asked again.
Still, no answer.
He demanded I tell him.
I said I didn't know.
He told me to feel them.
I said no.
He told me again.  This time in a voice I knew I couldn't disobey.
So I touched the muscles on his arm.
Not those, he said.  My chest.
I reached out to touch his muscles, terrified of what would happen if I didn't.
We both heard a noise. 
The door opened. 
It was my brother.  He wanted to play with the weights.

I saw my chance.  I took it.  I ran upstairs to the safety of my grandparents.

1982
After leaving our small house, we ended up again at my grandparents.
This time we had the entire basement apartment to ourselves because he had moved out.
My brother & I shared a room but at least we didn't have to share it with our parents!

I was eating breakfast at my grandparents kitchen table. 
My grandparents were in Synagogue. 
My parents were at work.
My brother was with a friend. 
My aunt was at the mall. 
I was alone. 
Then I heard the front door unlock. 
I knew who it was. 
He had a key. 
He walked into the kitchen, smiling.  I didn't know you were home, he said.
He walked over to where I was sitting.
He stood behind me.
He put his hands on my shoulders.
And started caressing them. In a way an uncle shouldn't.
As his hands moved lower, I tried to figure out what to do. 
I didn't want this to happen again.
He said I was becoming a beautiful young woman.
My head was spinning.  I was nauseous.
Then I saw it.
I quickly grabbed it, stood up & held the serrated blade of the bread knife against his throat. 
"If you ever even THINK of touching me again I'll fucking kill you." 
He left only because I allowed him to.

I was 12-years-old.

He never touched me again other than to hug & kiss me back (properly like an uncle should, not a lover or some sick pervert) when I was forced to hug & kiss him hello.
I finally stopped hugging & kissing him hello when I was 17.

He never stopped looking at me that way though.  He was always looking at me that way.  I couldn't tell anyone.  They'd think I was crazy & lying.  Everyone knew I despised him.  They just didn't know why. 
I was so upset & depressed, I thought about ending it. 
One day, when I couldn't take it anymore, I grabbed a knife & cut my wrists. 
I barely scratched the surface but it hurt like hell. 
Barely even bled. 
I told a friend who told a guidance counsellor. 
I told him it was because I was failing math.
He bought it. 
Mom found out & her reaction was to backhand me across the face.  Hard.
I got more depressed but I eventually understood why she reacted that way. 
I couldn't tell her the real reason. 

So I kept quiet.

1990
When I was 20, my father died.  I was devastated.  We all were.  Dad was too young.  I wasn't ready to lose him...but then are you ever ready to lose a parent?
I remember the last time I had physical contact with my uncle.
He came up to me, embraced me in his arms & said how sorry he was that I lost my Dad. 
I was livid.  I pushed him away so hard he hit the wall. 
"I told you once never to touch me again. I MEANT it."

After that, we rarely spoke.  Me because he wasn't worth acknowledging.  Him, I suspect because he was afraid I'd say something.

So I kept quiet.

Day 1

All I can do is write what I remember. 
How I remember it. 
I don't care if you don't believe me. 
I don't care that you think I'm making it up. 
I'm not. 
I remember this. 
I've always remembered this. 
I didn't wake up one day & these memories just suddenly appeared. 
I've always remembered this happening. 
I don't want to. 
I wish to G-d it never happened but it did.

If you've been through this I'm warning you now.  This may trigger you.

It was August, 1978.  My parents were in Europe on a much-needed, overdue vacation.  My grandparents were just going about their business doing what they normally did.  My uncle told them we (as in he & I) were going out & would be back later.  Nobody suspected he would hurt me the way he did.  I certainly didn't. 

In the car he told me I was going to the doctor's office. 
I asked why since I wasn't sick & felt fine. 
He said I needed to have a procedure done...like an operation but I'd be asleep for it. 
He explained it was to make my vagina bigger so I could have babies one day. 
I didn't know I couldn't say no. 
I didn't know nobody else knew this was happening. 
All I knew was that he was an adult & I had to listen to him & respect him. 
So I trusted he knew what he was doing.

He drove me to this place made to look like a doctor's office. 
We were asked to come into a small room where I was told to take off all my clothes including my underwear & change into a patient's gown. 
I was helped onto a table which was then wheeled into the operating room. 
There were other men there...four altogether, including my uncle. 
They were dressed in doctor's gowns & masks.  Except my uncle.  He was still wearing the clothes he wore earlier. 
I was asked if the procedure was explained to me.  I said yes.  I was nervous & scared. 
I was given anesthetic. 
I was told to recite the alphabet backwards. 
I was so nervous I just babbled nonsense until I blacked out.
I had no reason to suspect they weren't doctors. 
When I woke up, a couple of hours had passed. 
I was told the procedure went wonderfully. 
I was sore. 
I was tired. 
I was confused. 
I wanted to throw up. 
I didn't want to be near my uncle anymore. 
I sensed something had changed my relationship with him forever. 
I sensed something had changed me forever. 
I just wanted to go home. 

I was 7-years-old.