My Story

Wow, this is hard. But I just wanted to share my story with someone. I mean, it feels so weird to finally let it all out and tell my story. But I figure that if anyone can come close to understanding, it is you guys/gals on this board. So here goes…

I was born into The Family. My Dad bought anything that was told to him by Berg and the shepherds/ other leaders. As most in TF, I had a very large family with not enough attention to go around.

I remember my first experiences with sexual activity were when I was about 4/5. This other little boy (who was about a year older than me) would come and touch my privates and hump me. I remember that I didn’t really know what to do about it. I usually went along with it. I also recall a time when one “Uncle” was reading from the Bible, and the my little “playmate” was doing the usual. All that “uncle” did was say, “Not during devotions.” Kinda weird now that I think about it.

Well, we moved and it didn’t take long for me to find another “playmate.” I remember “Joey” used to always want to “play.” He used to always ask me to accompany him to hide under the covers, in the bathroom, etc. And I would not only go along with it, I even sometimes liked it! But often, it would make me feel nauseous and dirty… I wasn’t interested in humping all the time, like “Joey” was. He would get mad at me a lot of the time because I would turn him down, and ask him to play other things. I was about 6 at this time. Anyway, soon I just stopped doing that with him altogether. It was confusing because sometimes I actually enjoyed the sexual stimulation, and other times (more frequently) I would feel disgusted. I always felt ashamed afterwards.

I probably could have been more healthy if it were just these were the only two boys that used me sexually. The worst one was my older brother. After “Joey,” it seemed like I was going to be a “normal” girl. My parents were still affiliated with TF, but my siblings and I had started public school and my dad got a system job. Free from the sexual pressures of boys in TF, I became interested in regular activities: school, sports, friends, etc. Without those influences, I did not try to pursue anymore sexual activities.

It started happening when I was about 7/8. One day, my older brother, “Michael,” approached me. He said that he wanted to speak to me about something in the room. “Michael” was about 14/15. I was curious. I thought maybe I had done something bad and was in trouble, or maybe he wanted to play a joke or something. I followed him to the room and he locked the door as soon as I went in. I asked, “What’d you do that for?” And he told me to be quiet. Well, then he started touching me down there. I told him no, to stop but he didn’t. Instead he told me that I’d better not tell anyone. He even told me that if I went along with it, then he would do my chores and give me a “shinerprize.” After he realized that I didn’t want to do it willingly, he pushed me on the bed and climbed on top of me. I tried to push him off and hit him but he was too big; it didn’t seem to affect him at all. When he finally finished, I was so disgusted. I thought he had urinated on me. I felt like throwing up, and I kept asking him, “Why’d you pee on me?” (Luckily he did not penetrate) He said, “Shut up, it’s not pee.”

Well, that first experience was followed by many others. Sometimes I would try to fight but other times I would just lay there and accept it. Unlike my previous sexual experiences, I did not enjoy it at all. I was too embarrassed and ashamed to try to tell anyone, including my parents or my siblings. I also felt like I was somehow responsible for it as well. And I was scared that if I did tell anyone, they wouldn’t believe me. And if they did, they would blame me and I would get in trouble. I was sort of the odd-girl in the family, but even so, I wonder why no one thought it strange that we would be in the room, doors locked, for such long periods of time. Too many kids, I guess? My dad was always at work (or maybe even sometimes, avoiding coming home to my mom), and Mom was always busy with the other kids.

Anyhow, the day came that we actually got caught. My dad came home early one day and started knocking on the door. My brother kept saying, “Hold on, hold on!” Well, once my dad finally came in, I looked at his face and could tell that he already knew. He looked angry. I thought I was going to get a spanking for sure. But I was surprised when my dad just gave us a lecture. A relatively short lecture, at that (considering my dad would talk to us for hours if he caught us reading “bad” books or watching TV). He basically told us that incest was not good, but did not really elaborate on it further. I never found out if he told my mom, but I don’t think he did because she did not act any different or say anything. I was mortified. My brother seemed embarrassed about being caught but later continued. The only lesson this incident taught me was that I was also at fault. I don’t know what was going through my father’s head that he could think I was at an age to consent, considering our ages. He basically made me feel like we were both equally responsible. Now that I am older and I think about it, it makes me furious. He didn’t really try to do anything to stop my brother, didn’t even get him in trouble. Mostly, he reinforced my feelings of shame. I lived with those feelings for my entire life.

My brother eventually stopped this abuse, but it continues to bother me. Sometimes I have nightmares about incest; not only with him but with my other brothers. In some of these dreams, I am disgusted but my body goes along with it, against my will. It is hard to actually get close to men now that I am older. I have had sex, but each time I do, I feel disgusted with myself. It is like my mind wants to be celibate, but my body does not listen. After we are finished, I usually feel ashamed and dirty.

Often, I get the urge to tell my family (mostly my older sisters). I want to tell them not only to get this secret out in the open, but also because I want them to know what kind of person my brother really is. I feel sick every time I see him and when my sisters mention what a nice guy he is. But I don’t know how I can ever tell anyone. I can’t even put my first name on this post. And I am still a little afraid that they won’t believe. Also, I don’t know how this will affect my entire family. But most of all, I am ashamed of the whole thing. I can’t seem to shake that feeling of being partly responsible. I KNOW it wasn’t my fault, but I FEEL like it was my fault. Make any sense?