When I was in Ecuador I can’t say for sure but I sometimes have little episodes I remember where my neighbor made me touch him. At the age of 6 in the US my mom left me and my two brothers in charge with my aunts husband and he always showed me affection and one day we were watching tv under the covers and he placed my hand on his privates. I said no and he kept insisting. And made me touch him while he tried touching me. I knew it was wrong and I went to the kitchen and he followed me. My brothers went out to see their friends and I was alone and I went to the kitchen and grabbed a knife and locked myself in the bathroom. This man banged on the door threatening me that I was going to be in trouble and that I have to listen to him. He said if I don’t listen he would hurt my family. I heard my mom and I left the knife behind. I just hugged her and he went inside the bathroom to retrieve the knife. I started asking my mom to not leave me behind when she went out. My mom didn’t notice I was asking for help. He lived 2hrs away and we saw him and my aunt 1-3xs a year and I had to see him for ~5 yrs. I had to hide from him or run away from him. And when he called my name my whole body went numb. But luckily one day my mom gave me news that he was leaving back to our home country with my aunt. I was so happy that I wasn’t going to see him. But then I remembered that I had two younger cousins back home. I kept this secret for a couple of more years and then one day my alcoholic father said I was a “puta” because I was always out with my best friend. We didn’t speak for days inside the house. One day I went into my moms room and hugged her and that’s when I told her that I was sad that my dad called me that. Why did my dad say I was a “puta”. I never gave any men permission to touch me and I confessed that I did feel like a puta. That my aunts husband made me feel dirty and maybe my dad was right that I was a puta. My mom cried and apologized to me and told me that I was going to be ok. Days passed and my dad wasn’t angry anymore, he was just back to his drunk ways and forgot our fight. I asked my mom to keep this a secret. I told her that I wasn’t ready to tell anyone and that I was okay because he wasn’t here. My mom said that when I was ready she would be there for me. I’m 25 years old now and I feel like I’m not ready. Sexual abuse isn’t easy. I had other issues in my family as well. But day by day I Im better. I just know that when I have a child I will do everything for them to never feel what I felt. I promised that to 5 year old me.