High School Teacher’s Story

WARNING: The following post contains graphic sexual content, involving the molestation and rape of a minor. If you view pornography or battle perverse sexual thoughts, do not read further. This story is posted word-for-word how it was received.

I’m not a student but a teacher. You recently visited my school and it touched my heart. And this is my story.

I was born to a mother who was diagnosed with cancer while she was pregnant with me. My father told her to get rid of me because he didn’t want to lose the love of his life. From stories it’s either she didn’t want to or my nanny told her not to give me up. Eight months after giving birth to me she passed away. My father gave me away for five years and never told me he was my real father. After five years of never knowing my real family I was torn away from my nanny because I was becoming to expensive to pay for. The first thing I remember of my new family was the beginning of my damages.

My second oldest brother was in the bathtub and I walked into the bathroom and walked back out when he called me to come back. I was still on the bottle at the time and he told me he could make milk. I was so excited to know that my brother could make milk so I got close to the bathtub. He told my to open my mouth and I did as I was told. As a child I didn’t know what was going on, but as an adult I learned that he was pleasuring himself in front of me and shot the ejaculation into my mouth. And that was the start of a 8 year molestation marathon. I remember being in pain because he would try to have anal sex with me. I would cry and he would say he’s sorry for hurting me. I didn’t know what to do other than say it was okay.

While this was going on my father would beat me, never in the face, but only in areas that were unseen. He would leave me in the hallway closet for days. I would scream and just fall asleep hungry. I would get sent home from school because I didn’t have a jacket on during days that it rained. I would run away from school and back to my nanny’s house just because I felt like I couldn’t do it. I remember going to church, sneaking into my nanny’s car and wait for her to take me home. Everyone was frantic looking for me and I just wanted everything to stop. All the pain to just stop.

As I got older my brother got more aggressive with me. He would put his hand over my mouth and he would force himself onto me. He would tell me I was worthless, a bitch, and everything under the sun. He would force me to give him oral and didn’t care if I was crying and choking. I felt like I was so alone. He didn’t care, my father didn’t care and I felt like I had no one. Then my life took a turn for the worse, as if it could get any worse.

My father would leave periodically out of the country and he would have a family friend watch us. By this time my brother was already out of my life and I was so happy. Then it was like the nightmare was back. The close family friend started to touch me and try to kiss me. I would freeze up and just sit there. I tried to think of other things while I was being touched. I would scrub myself raw at the end of the day and sit and cry. I would cry at night and ask God why he would let so many things happen to a child who did nothing but try to be strong and give all her hope and faith in him. I started to lose hope and thats when I found that pain replaces pain. I found an old science room in my middle school and it became my safe haven to hurt myself.

I started cutting myself in the 7th grade and didn’t stop until I was a freshmen in High school due to a boyfriend. I have so many scars left on my arm that I am not ashamed nor am I proud of. It reminds me of the pain I endured as a child survivor. My father was still beating me even in high school and I didn’t find my voice until he decided to kick me out. He gave me 20 dollars for my prom dress and he went to Cambodia to get married instead of watch me walk the stage for my graduation.

After he kicked me out I began living for myself. I got a job and was going to school for Hospitality Management and Culinary Arts.I then transferred to the University of North Texas and lived on my own for a little and met some people who I started to trust with my secrets. I still don’t have the strength to tell my family but I understand the struggle of keeping up a facade. I was offered a teacher’s position and I have to say I love it. I feel like I’ve made it in life and I’m continuing to grow.

I try to let my students know my past so that they know that they’re not the only ones that have or are going through hard times. I want them to know that I understand how it feels to try and be happy just so no one knows how hard it is at home. I want them to feel safe in an environment with an adult who cares and wants them to succeed as best they can. I am only one teacher and I want to make a difference because I do not wish any child to go through what I have been through.

What you are doing is amazing and it fills my heart that students should know it is okay to talk to adults. I wish I had this when I was younger. Maybe I would’ve been less scarred.

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