‘I was abused at 5 – then I was shunned’ This is the first time I am publicly speaking in decades about my experiences and even though this is anonymous, I am petrified. I am scared of repurcussions, I am scared somebody might work out who I am, I am fighting the inner feeling of wanting to hide behind a big piece of furniture and […]

‘I was abused at 5 – then I was shunned’

This is the first time I am publicly speaking in decades about my experiences and even though this is anonymous, I am petrified. I am scared of repurcussions, I am scared somebody might work out who I am, I am fighting the inner feeling of wanting to hide behind a big piece of furniture and make it all go away because what happened when I told was so bad, it’s hard to measure what was worse. Before or after. 

When I was abused and I couldn’t take it anymore and I was so scared to tell but I let out a ‘squeak’ (just a small amount of what actually happened), I became the untouchable. I was not yet 6. 

Untouchable for some because “she’s a liar” or “the mother is crazy and must have made it up”. For those who did believe me, we were untouchable because we were “moiserim” (it wasn’t even us who reported it to the police rather the Dr who checked me but its good that it did go. It needed to.). 
I was untouchable because I “knew too much about things” I shouldn’t and it would “contaminate” their kids if they were allowed to have contact with me. 

Bricks through the window. Spat at in the street. Living in terror. The talk of people’s dinner tables. My best friends saying “My Mommy doesn’t let me play with you anymore”. 
The sweet shop lady was so ‘righteous’ refusing to let me buy a lollipop whilst everybody in the line was staring at me “We don’t serve people like you”. My little tear streaked face was burning. 

Who are people like me? I had always tried to be such a good girl. A little girl who’d been told she’d been bad and needed to be “punished”. A little girl who’s been tied up and sexually tortured. A little girl who’d been forced to call the man who did this to her Mr policeman. Who was told by him her mother had told him to do this because she’d been a bad girl. Who had lived in terror most of her little life. That kind of girl can’t be allowed to buy a lollipop in the sweet shop?? 

This was my price of speaking out. Isolation. Loneliness. Persecution. Fear.

This HAS TO CHANGE!!! Society has to protect the people who have been hurt. At worst, if you don’t believe someone, don’t get involved. How could you live with yourself if you found out you were wrong? Even if the mother seems crazy, don’t you know the story could still be true!!! Only in olam haemes will all those people finally face the truth and it’ll be too late to make ammends on this earth.

Posted in media, news-articles, op-eds, survivors-letters.


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