He Touched Me Many Times In My House: Why I Wasn't Allowed To Tell My Father Still Disgusts Me

Anonymous Anonymous in Your Story on 21 December, 2016

My haunting story began when I was still in my Prep class. 

My father was in the army so we had a 'Batman' in our house, aka our helper. So one fine day my mum sent my batman upstairs to my room to call me for dinner. That wasn't the first time I was called for dinner by him but it was indeed the first time I got molested. His fingers are imprinted permanently on my body ever since, I don't think they'll ever fade away.

I said this to nobody because obviously I didn't know how to describe the feeling or the pain. 

When my father got posted to another station, 'the Batman' also moved with us. Another incident that I remember clearly was when I was in class 3 and my mum went to a neighbour’s house and he picked me up from my bus stop that dropped me a little far away from my house. He took me to his servant quarter especially and tried to get physical with me. I was an innocent child then, I had no clue what and why that was happening. After Lahore, we moved back to Pindi. He used to come their once a week or month because he was in service and my father had retired. Every time he came over, he dared to abuse me by touching me in all the wrong places possible. Although I was in class 8 by then, I was still so afraid of him.

I could never gather up the courage to tell my family anything just yet. 

My life got more miserable when my father got him retired from the army. Although a month before his retirement I told my mother and elder sister about the abuse, I don’t know why my mother could not talk to my father about it openly. So, my molester brought his family and they started living in our house. He had two daughters too and I loved them. I never thought of discriminating against them. 

However, what he did to me gave me two distinct personalities. The abused victim was another person living inside me. Who cried in washrooms and in the middle of the night. I used to cut myself and also started taking sleeping pills. My family refused to notice the prominent scars all over my arms.

I started going to college in the same depressive state. In my second semester, my mum and his wife went to the market without informing me and I was sleeping in my bedroom. After some time, I was jolted awake when I saw him sitting on my bed. It was the most painful moment of my life. I slapped him and tried to push him out of my room. Then, I called my older sister and asked her to tell my mother to come home as soon as possible. After she arrived, I told everyone the truth.

I also consoled his wife. Those days were terrible for me and I took to tranquilizers so that I could complete my university education and I also wanted to seem normal in front of my father. My mother and sister had convinced me to not tell my dad anything. Because, they were worried about the society since I'm a girl and I could have faced issues in my marriage later. After that day, he stopped abusing me at least. He, however, still shamelessly continued to live in my house. It has been two years since that incident.

His face disgusts me, his hands too. But to act "normal", many a times I had to act like I was eating the food he made with his dirty hands. 

I love my father very much and at least I know that if ever told him about what 'Batman' did to me, he would surely take a stand for me. In my house, my sisters and mother never discuss anything with me. They always tell me that there are bigger things that people suffer in life and that everybody goes through miserable times. For me, this is the most miserable thing that could have happened to me. Presently, I am living because of my supportive friends, without relying on sleeping pills and blades. 

Now, he is going away from my place finally. My father still knows nothing about what happened with his own daughter in his own house. All this because the women of the house didn't allow me to seek protection from my own birth giver. 

The one person who could have given me all the care and attention I need doesn't know what happened with me. It makes me feel so helpless. On so many days, I want my mother or sister to walk up to me and ask me one simple question — "Are you alright baby?" But, I guess that's impossible. My biggest dream, however, was to tell my story openly to every person who has suffered through something similar.

My mother never allowed me to get any therapy from anyone because I'm a girl, but I really hope you can, whoever you are. 
Author's Note:

My advice to all the parents is that all children have a small world of their own, please don’t destroy it by throwing them in heaps of bitter memories. Governments should create awareness for people so children can be taken for therapies. Also, for people around sexually abused victims, I would request them to not judge them by their scars, love them instead.