It's a confidence building exercise

**This post is about sexual assault so please if this topic is a trigger for you either don't read or read on with caution**

It wasn't until recently that I realised I have been sexually assaulted more times than just the time I was raped, just because intercourse wasn't involved doesn't mean it wasn't assault.

Firstly we will start with my father in law - yes my husbands own father. I had just had my third child, she was around 3-4 months old and my husband was at work, my father in law stopped by which never happened as he lived quite some distance so I wasn't uncomfortable by this, I assumed he had come to see his new grandaughter, my husbands first child.
She fell asleep shortly after he arrived and he said are you coming out for a smoke? Being a smoker at the time I said yes, we smoked out in the garage.
We had been out there for about 15 minutes when he said come here, I did. He hugged me, this was nothing new he had always been very affectionate and I had never thought anything of it, I actually liked it. Then he kissed me, on the lips and I could feel his tongue trying to force its way into my mouth. I was 21 and he was 60. I didn't say no, I froze, paralysed to the spot. This went on for about half an hour, I couldn't move, talk, nothing, I wasn't even in my own body anymore, disassociation has well and truly kicked in.
Eventually I said I need to check the baby and ran inside and woke the baby and held her close to me the whole time, he left shortly after and I rang my husband in tears.
He of course rang his father and his father said that it was a confidence building exercise for me - how that builds my confidence I have no idea. Well the rest of the family soon heard that I had "accused" him of these things and then a few other family members (ex wives of my husbands brothers) came to me and told me of similar experiences they have had with him.
I'm not sure if this is even sexual assault but my trust was shattered as was my husbands, my privacy was invaded, kissing someone in that manner certainly shouldn't be something that goes on with your father in law when you're engaged to be married.
Why didn't I say no? I was scared, plain and simple, I froze.


After I started going to a family violence counselling program the worker there also made me aware that what my ex used to do was sexual assault and rape. Because he was violent if he came home while I was in bed I would pretend to be asleep, if he wanted sex he would just take it with me still pretending to be asleep, call me stupid but until recently I thought that was ok because we were together so he was entitled to do that but no he was not because if I were actually asleep I would not have been in a position to say no.

There is one more incident but I am not yet ready to tell that story as it is very recent (only a few months ago) 

A piece of me - part one

First of all I'd like to apologise if this post is a little hard to follow, my plan is just to write what I think as I think it. I have a lot of things I just want to get out. I am struggling a lot and am keeping it all to myself to the point I will burst so I am hoping by just spilling it all here I feel a little better.

There are parts of me that people closest to me don't even know, or I am unaware they know. Parts of me that family nor friends know. Parts that I have buried in hopes that it can be forgotten, really I feel like a fake by doing this, not healed like I thought I would.

My past isn't pretty, I do regret it, would I change it though? I don't know, parts of me would but a part of me says I wouldn't be who I am today without it - although at times that really wouldn't be a bad thing.

Jealousy is something I find creeping into my life a lot. Looking at people younger than me who own their own home or have build, own nice flashy cars, have been to university, nice furnishings and savings. I have none of that, I'm 27, I rent, my car is 20 years old (toyota landcruiser thankfully they're built to last!), I have studied but not at a university level just a tafe level, the only nice piece of furniture I have is my new bed and that won't last long with my kids and I'm lucky to have a dollar by pay day let alone savings. It often feels like my sister rubs it in and often makes me feel like a failure. I have a safe, secure roof over my children's heads isn't that important? I may not own it but we have a great relationship with our landlords and the only thing that would force us to move was if they were to sell the house and they certainly have no intentions of that in the future, maybe we can even own/build our own house by the time they make that decision.

Another part of my life that I have never told exactly how it is to many people, I think my husband is the only one who knows the 100% truth. This is a massive part of my life and one that has changed everything forever. I was always a rebellious child, smoking and drinking by age 13, experimenting with drugs by 14 (only weed and prescription pills at this stage), boyfriends my dad didn't like and being sexual with them (not intercourse). I met let's just call him D at 14 and began seeing him as well as my boyfriend let's call him A, I couldn't pick between the 2, my parents hated both. D's grandparents lived across the road he was easy to see, he was a bad boy, it made him attractive to me, he had lots of money and showered me with gifts, I loved the attention. A was sweet, he cared, he was gentle, very different from many 16 year olds, his family were also lovely and very accepting of me, I felt safe and wanted. I know being with the two was wrong, I was young, having issues at home and not feeling the emotional needs I should have from there I guess is my only reason.

D lived with his step dad, his step dad gave off a vibe I didn't exactly like but was really nice to me and encouraged D to spend time with me and spend money on me. He would buy my cigarettes and alcohol everyday, he supplied my pills, it never occurred to me at the time how he would get them, I didn't care. 

About 6 months after I met him I discovered both D and his step dad were heroin addicts, I had never picked it, I didn't know what the signs were. My own addictions were the only addictions I had ever been around (excluding cigarettes), not long after I discovered it D asked if I'd like to try it, it was a day my dad and I had a huge fight, I was upset and hurt, D said the heroin would make me forget it, how could I resist? The first few times he injected me until I was confident enough to do it myself. A few people I have told this story too have judged me, how can a 14 year old afford to be a heroin addict? As I said before this family seemed to have endless supplies of money, it didn't take long for me to learn how they could afford my habit as well as their own. 

Fast forward now to shortly after my 15th birthday, walking home from a friends house late at night, a neighbour, the school nurses son came out from his house and grabbed me, he raped me and told me he would hurt me if I told anyone, he also told me he knew things about me that he would tell my family if I told anyone, why would I tell my parents anyway? They wouldn't believe me, they never believe anything I said. Heroin numbed this out for me and became my way to cope, my way to sleep without nightmares or flashbacks. Helped me not feel dirty. I spent more and more time at D's house and used more and more. This is where I discovered why his family had money and could afford our habits. I was now told I had to start contributing. How could I? I wasn't allowed to get a job. It was 2-3 months after the rape, I was still using, I was stupid, I was numb, I wanted to ignore it all so it would go away.

We will teach you tonight how you can earn your keep or you'll have to stop coming around I was told. Stop coming around? I couldn't do he hat, I didn't know anywhere else I could score from. A already wanted nothing to do with me, I'd lost all my friends, D was all I had left. 

The next chapter begins, one that I never tell anybody. I am now deeply ashamed of this part, at the time it was a matter of survival, a way to feed my habit. I was told to dress nicely, which for me at 15 was when I look at it now provocatively. We drove to a part of town I had never seen before, it wasn't dark yet but it was just before dusk. D's step dad stopped the car, D held my hand tight, he was shaking, he even had tears in his eyes, I still had no idea what was going on. D's step dad told me to get out of the car, I did, he wound down the window and said I'll be back in a few hours, here is what to charge, if the cops come keep walking.

The note he handed me read this:

Handjobs £5

Blow jobs £20

half an hour £50

hour £85

Nothing without a condom.

I'll never forget that note, forever etched in my mind, his scrawl with those prices on it, I panicked, what do I do? I wanted to run, where was I? Then the addict in me kicked in, I can't run, I have to do this, I can't score tonight if I don't. This is where I began selling my body for heroin. 

D's step dad took everything I earnt everyday and gave me heroin in return, making a profit for himself of course, I later learnt he had a number of girls doing this for him. THIS is where the money came from, this is how they could afford a habit. 

I was getting into a lot of trouble at home for never being there, skipping school etc, then a few months later my parents moved us to australia where I had to learn to survive on my own, a heroin addict and pregnant. I've been called a lot of names for using whilst pregnant, only a true addict gets what state of mind my head was in at that time.

Pregnant at 15

It has been a while since I told the story of how I conceived my first child, time for the next installment of how my life fell apart. Excuse me if this post seems rushed, I have my 2 year old twins climbing all over me like I'm the latest climbing frame.
Hiding the bump from my parents was pretty easy, I never got that big and my school jumper concealed it nicely, I was too scared to tell them. I had seen how much they had downgraded and ridiculed two of my cousins who had babies at 16, they would never accept this. They wouldn't even believe I was raped if I told them, the only person they believe is my sister. 

My mother lost all my trust when at 12 years old she made me do a pregnancy test and called me a tramp whilst I cried and begged and pleaded for her to believe me that I was a virgin, I hadn't ever had a period even. I'd never even kissed a boy but had a boyfriend at school, the most we did was play chasey!
I never once got an apology for that and lost all respect and trust for her which to this day is still absent.

Back on track even if they did believe me about the rape I didn't want to tell them, I was still ashamed and didn't want to relive that moment ever again. So I decided not to, if you ignore things they go away don't they?
Obviously I was wrong with that logic they don't go away but I did my very best to ignore it. The year before all of this my parents had decided to move to Australia, we had been accepted, in June our house sold and tickets were booked to leave the UK in August 2002. I would be 11 weeks pregnant, still silently hoping to miscarry, still secretly thinking this baby maybe good though, somebody to actually love me.
D and his mum had made plans to come over and see me after I moved, the only thing keeping me sane, I didn't want to move half way around the world.
Once we got here my dad wanted all these photos to send back/brag to family back in the UK, I had the smallest of bumps but to me it looked huge, I refused to take my jumper off and fake this Australia is so hot even in winter deception  he wanted me to play a part of.
Apart from a small bump forming I had a very easy pregnancy so far, D was coming with his mum from October 6 2002 to December 9 2002.
When D came over I stayed with them in the motel most of the time, my parents hated it which made me love it even more. When D got here I was 21 weeks pregnant, I'd had one scan in the UK which D's mum took me to but since arriving here I had no prenatal care at all, I was scared, I was alone here. It was so nice being in that motel not feeling swamped in clothes to hide the bump, I could allow myself to put my hand on my belly when my baby kicked, talk to him/her, plan things. D's mum was going to help me get a house with an organisation that helps young parents. 

November 5th 25 weeks and 1 day pregnant, I didn't feel very well. I was dizzy and vomiting, D's mum wanted to take me to the Dr. I told her I would lie down and if in an hour I till felt like this then I would. She ended up letting me sleep much longer. I woke up at 11.30pm, I thought Id wet the bed. I stumbled out of bed trying not to wake up D, I flicked the lamp on and what I saw was like something out of a murder movie. I was covered in blood, the bed, D since he was asleep in the bed.  

I screamed, I froze, woke everybody up. D's mum called an ambulance and it felt like forever until they arrived, really it was only around 10 minutes.

It was around midnight when we got to the hospital on November 6th. 

They spoke to me quickly and it was decided that I'd have an emergency c-section even though the bleeding had almost stopped but because it was so heavy they wanted to take no risks as they thought my placenta was coming away which could be fatal for me as well as the baby! as I was being prepped for surgery I felt a huge urge to push! I'd been mildly contracting but not anything that really stopped me in my tracks though I was blocking everything due to the fear so perhaps I just missed the pain, since the rape I'd become good at blocking reality out.

Just 2 pushes later and a little baby boy was born, he was rushed immediately away. 2 hours later I was allowed to see him, so tiny. The drs wanted to talk to me, despite the tremendous efforts they were putting in his body was shutting down they advised it would be best to take him off the machines and let him pass peacefully rather than prolong what seemed to be the inevitable.

It was the hardest thing I've ever had to decide and if I hadve been this age I would probably have fighted but being 15 I wasn't mature enough for this kind of decision. The social worker was also with them and briefly spoke to me.

At 4.17am his machines were turned off and at 4.21am he grew his wings. I'm glad I got to hold him as he passed, I just wish I had have held him longer. I only have one photograph of him that D's mum took, at the time I didn't see why I'd want photos, why would I want to remember this?

Anthony James

Born November 6th 2002 at 12.47am

Weight: 1lb 1oz

His length was never recorded to my knowledge 

Passed away November 6th 2002 at 4.21am

I would like to thank the staff and the dr who came in when it was only the early hours of the morning to discuss this with me on his day off, his daughter was a rape victim and a teen mother so his words were the kindest most supportive I have heard.