My 16th Anniversary

Usually I commemorate this anniversary on the day of the event, not the day after. But for the past several years, I've focused more on the survival aspect anyway. So this year (and this may be a one-time thing - we'll see), I thought I'd try something a little different.

Sixteen years ago today, I woke up as one of many survivors of rape/incest. I was raped by the man who, with my mom, raised me in my home. He was the man I called my dad since I was four years old. He was legally my step-father, but I had always called him dad. He started molesting me when I was 14, and it culminated in him raping me when I was 17 - a mere three days before I was set to leave for college.

That night, I went to the ER (where I received my first pelvic exam) and the police station. Mom and I spent that night in a hotel because while we knew Bill had been arrested, we weren't sure how many strings he would pull to get bailed out ASAP. See, he was a retired police officer.

Because of his outstanding service to the community, the judge (nearly two years and three suicide attempts later) decided to give him a suspended sentence. This meant that he essentially got five years of probation. If at anytime he violated that probation, he would serve the full five years in prison. He was also sentenced to register as a sex offender in the state of Missouri.

But because of a loophole in Missouri law, he didn't have to register as a sex offender. Missouri law doesn't recognise incest as a sex offence, but as an offence against as the family. When I discovered this, I contacted my local lawmakers, and we worked together to amend this law. Now, those convicted of incest must also register as sex offenders in the state of Missouri.

My struggle has been difficult. There have been nightmare, sleepless nights, flashbacks, and many a failed romance that I can directly blame on this. But the successes have also been myriad. I have found strength and courage that I never thought myself capable of. My relationship with my mother is complicated and intricate because of all of this, and while our relationship hit some bumps along the way, our relationship has ultimately been enhanced because of everything we've been through together.

But mostly I am proud of myself. Because on this day I know that I am a survivor.

Not all fun and games

I've been struggling with the decision of whether to post this. I wanted to because I tend to post about what's going on in my life and this definitely qualifies. But I was hesitant because I know someone people from Ravelry take a peek, and I'm not sure that a post of this ilk is what they'd expect. They probably expect to see some FO pics, some yarn pics, and hear some funny little knitastrophe anecdote.

So, I'll warn you now... if that's what you expect and you'll be disappointed by anything else, then you probably shouldn't keep reading this post. Because, in the end, I've decided that, dammit, it's my blog and I'll post what I want to let out into the world.

As many of you know, I am a rape survivor. I was raped by my mom's second husband, after several years of being molested by him. He had helped my mom raise me since I was four years old.

I've been in therapy for years, and I've dealt with the rape several times before. It tends to be an issue that shows up in waves - sometimes I need to talk about it a LOT and other times I can go for quite awhile without needing to process it.

Without going into a lot of detail right now (mostly because it's past 1:00 a.m.), I'll just say that some current events in my life have me reprocessing (yet again) the rape. I'm back to sitting in my therapist's office crying and processing and asking the hard questions that, really, have no answer. And never will.

I also decided to post this here because I've ALWAYS been very open about the rape and its effects on me (why hide from it when I kick-started a move to change Missouri law because of what happened to me and had to write in testimony for the legislative records?). I want other victims to know that it doesn't always have to be the bottomless pit that it sometimes feels like, and I want people who aren't victims to not pity me. I guess it comes down to wanting to be seen as a strong survivor, not as a weak victim.

Anyway, another reason for posting is because, frankly, I could use the support of my friends. It's not that I need to discuss the details with all of you individually, but I could certainly make do with an extra hug here and there, a meaningful "no, really - how ARE you doing?", and some understanding if I'm a bit... distracted.

xoxoxo