This is sort of a copycat post on Breakthroughs. When I was 13, I was taken by one of the staff of my middle school to his home where I was fondled and photographed. I told no one at the time because I was so naive I didn’t know I was being used at the time because he plied me with sweets and was friendly to me when no one else seemed to give a shit about me anyway.
My parents found out eventually and they “took care” of it by essentially going to this man’s trailer and yelling at him. They did not file charges even though my father was a lawyer. I was berated at home and called all sorts of names because of my “promiscuous” behavior and punished as well. I ended up being ashamed of my body and distrusting men pretty much for life.
I did not think telling would do any good because back in the day if you told you were brushed off: you were either “asking” for it, or “wanted” it, etc…or you were lying. Maybe I should have gone to school authorities about it. If I had been taken seriously the man might have taken revenge but maybe I could have gotten the counseling I needed at the time and been validated as a person and not made to feel like filth.
It seemed to be all over the school in a few months anyway.
Now, if sexual abuse is proved, it is prosecuted. Then, he was a popular staff member and the students flocked around him. I had no friends, but was allowed to hang around. I did it so I wouldn’t look alone in the lunchroom. I did not know he would single me out (as predators do) or that I would lose so much.
My parents shamed me into self hatred and into hating them which brought later rebellion. They should have supported me, and, if they didn’t, I should have told.