I hate to admit it, but there were many things my dad did to me that I couldn’t believe. Eventually I could actually believe it. I must say, however, that by far the worst thing my father has ever done to me, is something I’ve never disclosed to the public and in all honesty is something I’m actually reluctant to talk about. Well, here goes. When I was 15, my father forced himself upon me. Most of you can figure out what that means. I won’t go into detail, as that one sentence was hard enough to write.
My daughter came home from school early, and called me at work (luckily I was in the country), saying that she had been suspended for fighting. She didn’t want to talk about if further. The only word from the principal was “She has a two week suspension.” I left my office and went home, grounding her and removing her phone. The next morning, I took her to school. The principal was out front, and said “she cannot enter the school, because she is suspended.”. I said, she IS entering the school, and we are going to your office, unless you prefer to have this conversation here — and proceeded to walk right past him.
I told him that my daughter was going to have that suspension lifted, and removed from her record — and that the boy who ATTACKED her had a choice face a 30 day suspension, with mental evaluation, or face felony charges. He called the boy’s mother, who threatened charges against my daughter. I said, let’s just let the police sort it out, then but no college is going to accept a kid with a felony sexual assault, and I have more than enough young ladies that will testify that he has done the same thing to them to ensure a conviction. The principal then made a comment about not threatening one of the finest families in the city, to which I responded. I do not make threats but I do make promises. Somebody needs to let this little jerk know that this is not acceptable BEFORE he winds up as an adult in prison.
When I met him I knew him because we had the same friends and I went to school with his cousins. He was talking to other women behind my back on and off. I would confront him and try to talk things out with him. He saw the tears run down my face and would say ok i won’t do it again but he kept doing. I felt really stupid but I was the one who gave him the benefit of the doubt. He did it again a month before we were suppose to marry and something inside of me clicked. I was not upset, didn’t cry. I told him I needed to speak to him.
He said it wasn’t him yet nobody else has his photos so i knew he was lying. I didn’t say much to him for a few days and he started crying and drinking. I ended up kicking him out. He had the nerve to text me and say oh you should have given me a two week notice. My response was for what for breaking my heart?!? plus we were renting at my mother’s house and she didn’t know what happened plus she didn’t even know i kicked him out. Also we didn’t have a contract it was more of a verbal agreement of ok you can live here as long as rent is paid no issues and you clean up behind yourself.
So naturally I thought, “Ok. I’ll heal. He won’t do that again, he was only acting on an impulse. It’ll be okay.” Boy was I wrong. He did it again. And again. In total he did it 5 times all on different occasions. Now, what made this the worst, however, was that on the 1st or 2nd time, I conceived. That’s right. I, having withstood rape, was now pregnant at 15, and I lived in an abusive household. I couldn’t help but wonder how I could raise this child to be happy and free when my life was entirely the opposite. I didn’t have to wonder for long. The last 3 times he used me, he knew that I was pregnant. He wanted to “take care of it.”