There once was a little girl. She was golden brown in color with black hair that she wore in 2 pigtails.She had a clear complexion, a heart-shaped face, and two little lips the color of dark rose-petals.
She had a nightgown. It was her favorite. It had long sleeves with lace ruffles on the cuffs and at the neck. It had ruffled lace on the hem too. The yoke of the bodice had white satin ribbon sewn on, and there was a white ribbon that tied in a bow at the neck. She loved this nightgown because it was soft, pretty, and the color of buttercups.
Then one day the nightgown was not her favorite anymore. It had become dirty, spoiled in the night with her shame. That's when it started, the shame that would leave her paralyzed throughout most of her life.
It was nighttime, and HE came in, waking her out of a deep sleep. "We're going to play a game," he said.
"What game?" she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
He said "Um, we're going to play football!"
She didn't know what football was, but she knew what a ball was, so she decided it sounded like fun.
"What do I have to do?", she asked.
He told her to lay down on the floor. She did as she was told, because he was older and she was always told to listen to people older than she was.
She didn't know what was happening, because he had laid down on top of her. She could feel his hands fumbling with her white panties until they were down around her ankles. Then he put something between her legs. All the while she said nothing. What was there to say? They were, after all just playing a game.
He started jumping on her, like the dog did to that pillow he had found on the floor. She remembered, because her grandfather said, "He has to get fixed."
She didn't know what "fixed" meant, but the dog stopped jumping on the pillows.
Suddenly, he froze on top of her; he had stopped jumping and she felt something wet and sticky on her thighs. He told her the game was finished. So, she got up pulled up her panties and got back into bed. He told her it was a secret game, just between them, and she was to tell nobody. What was there to tell? Who was there to tell? She wished that she could take another bath to was the sticky stuff off. But it was too late at night. Everyone else in the house was asleep.
The next morning when she woke up her legs hurt, and her private parts hurt too. She knew she must have done something to herself in the night, but she could think of nothing. Then she remembered the game she had played. She got a sinking feeling in her tummy. Something bad had happened, but she didn't know what. But, she figured that whatever had happened it was her fault.
She didn't tell her mom that her privates hurt. Mommy had that look on her face as she drank her coffee. The look that said "I don't feel good." So, she couldn't tell mommy, and daddy was already at work. She told no one, and no one asked her about it. So she found her favorite dolls and spent the rest of that rainy morning in the closet. She could play there for hours and not be disturbed.
The rest of the day, after it had stopped raining, she went outside to make mud cakes and pies. She put them in the shiny pans her mommy had given her, and set them out in the sun to bake. Then she pretended that her dolls were caught in a landslide and G.I. Joe had to rescue them. After that it was time for dinner. Daddy gave her a hug when he came home. She adored her daddy. He had a mustache that tickled her face. After dinner, it was time to watch a little TV, and then for a bath. She was especially dirty from playing in the mud all afternoon. After her bath, she put on fresh panties and put on her favorite nightgown.
It was dark and chilly that night, so she cocooned herself in her covers. But then, in the middle of the night, HE came again. So, they played the game again, and this time she knew it was bad. She just instinctively knew. While he was on top of her she looked up at the ceiling, and then through the ceiling, to look at the stars. It was then that she learned how to disappear. Her mind taking her to the babbling creek in the backyard; a place where she just knew there were fairies, sprites, and talking birds. She stayed there until he finished with her, then she came back to the room. She pulled up her panties again and slid back under her covers.
This went on for 2 years. But she told no one. She couldn't find the words to explain it if she wanted to. She figured that she was just a bad, dirty girl that was so unlovable, that she deserved it, whatever it was. You see, she didn't know what sex was, nobody had ever explained it to her. It was something that just wasn't discussed at least not in front of the children. That was adult conversation, and children weren't permitted to hear adult conversation. So it went on, wordlessly, without emotion; she had learned how to turn them off too. She just laid there and drifted away, going to places she had seen in magazines.
The little girl in this story is me. I was 7 years old. I tell you this not to make you feel sorry for me, but to make you aware. Children don't always have the words to say what's on their minds. You have to look for signs. If, for example, your normally chatty 5 year old suddenly gets quiet, chances are there is a secret in there somewhere. It is your job as a parent to get it out in the open. Don't be shocked or disgusted in front of your child when you hear it. She/he feels bad enough already. But do be loving and kind.
What happened to HIM. nothing, I never told, so nothing happened. I didn't tell my parents until I was 30. By then the shame and guilt had spread through me like a deadly virus, poisoning everything I touched. It wasn't until a few years ago until I finally stopped feeling so dirty. I guess that's maybe why I never had a boyfriend. I was so terrified of being found out that I never really got close to anyone. I did get a deep heart felt apology from him, and I forgave him. To not forgive is a sin against God. It also freed me from a life of shame. The burden has been lifted.
I no longer wear yellow, though. It brings the memories to the forefront, when I would rather leave them in the past and look forward to my future.
Bev
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