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*Warning: some details of my story maybe triggering for some*
Hello, I’m yellow sun. Now, of course my name isn’t actually yellow sun, but how sick would that be? Anyways, I’m 22 and my childhood was weird. You know how sometimes life seems like a distant memory, almost like a dream? Not a beautiful dream, but a nightmare. Yeah, that’s repression. So, I’ve always automatically repressed things. How do I know this? Because I watched a movie a couple of years ago, and this teenage girl was being raped by some of her family members. I left the theater feeling nauseous and I couldn’t sleep for months. Crying in the middle of the night, feeling disgusted, and hating my body more than I ever have. I didn’t realize what was actually wrong.
I was raped. By two of my cousins, let’s say three, but the third one manipulated me into giving him oral. That last part sounds confusing, but I grew up thinking this was okay. No, seriously, I wasn’t the only one who was taken advantage of sexually in my family. It seemed like it was something normal. Some of my cousins would talk about it, as if it were girls they weren’t related to. It became a culture in the family, that not everyone knew about. One huge secret, and this happened for years. I started to feel like an object, I couldn’t wear anything even slightly revealing. It was a game, that I never asked to play. No one cared, no one knew what to do, no one had the guts to stand up for themselves. We were numb to the idea of being touched or your underwear being pulled down if they felt like it for their satisfaction.
So, in the year of 2015. I moved away from my family. I was so happy! This was the year I finally told someone that I was raped continuously at a young age. But, I still was in denial. I continued to repress, and the person I told didn’t seem to care very much about it, so it was like nothing happened. Well, then I move to a different state now, in the year of 2016. I was living my life, working, going to school, but whenever I got home all I wanted to do was sleep. And not wake up. You see... this is where depression and anxiety storm in. Let’s fast forward to last year, possibly one of the hardest years I’ve dealt with. I told a couple of people, who are very dear to me, that I was raped. It was not taken lightly. I made the decision to tell an aunt of mine, who I respect what had been happening for the past decade. With all of this being said, I’m missing a lot of parts of my story, but the point is some of my family members know. My father still doesn’t, and that’s killing me. But, my grandmother doesn’t want him to know. For the sake of my family’s reputation. I’m going to be honest, I want nothing to do with most of my family members.
Now I’m left with anger. And I still feel empty. And disgusted. And used. And ugly. And worthless. And stupid. And who’s going to love me? I’m so damaged and broken. No one wants either of those things. All I want to do is hide in my room, I’m ashamed with everything that has to do with me. I’m trying to move on, I told people who mean everything to me, so why is that I’m having trouble living?
So, this is the aftermath of my story: I can’t seem to forgive. I’m left with hate and emptiness. That’s something that rapists, don’t think about huh? Now, you have to live with the fact that you were abused for so long, and life just goes on for them. And, you’re stuck. But, I still believe that things can get better. Forgiveness is the hardest thing one can do, but yet it's something that’s required for healing. I have to let love in. And so do you, whoever you are. If you’re a rape victim, please talk about it with someone who you love and trust. It’s your story, so actually share it with whoever you want. Rape is NEVER okay. If you’re in an environment like I was where it’s normalized, search for help. Message me, if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know. If you simply want to share your story with me, then I’m also there for you as well.
Hope your day has been sunny, thanks for reading.