Eileen
It’s hard to know where to start…
Do I start with the earliest clear memory? Me at 6 years old with my oldest brother asking me if he can watch me go pee. He is 11 then. I remember clearly thinking it is gross and telling him no. Of course, the no’s only work for so long…
Or do I start with that foggy memory of me at 4-years-old. Sleeping upstairs in my grandparents’ home. My mind’s eye can see the pants in front of me and the hands that pull down the zipper and then pull out the ugliest body part I have ever seen. My wrist feels the tight gripping pull towards the body part as I try to resist. My ears hear the squeak of the step… fourth from the top… as someone is coming up the stairs. Quickly, the hands and body disappear.
Do I speak of the years upon years of constant, daily sexual abuse by two of my three brothers? Never being able to sleep for fear of who may walk in that night. Never having friends stay over – to keep them safe from the hell I am living in. The bruised body along with the wounded soul… beaten for saying no. The eyes that watch me shower. The head between my 11 year old legs as I awake one morning. Do I dare share the day when my father walks in and catches my oldest brother molesting me? I am 12. My father asks my brother to move out. Nothing is ever talked about. He is just gone.
Do I talk to you of the day after school when I arrive to find that I am home alone with my middle brother? The most violent of them all. How can I describe the rape that wasn’t the violent event that most people imagine when they hear that word? After years of violence, I had learned it was safer to succumb. To take leave of the room in my mind – leaving my body to suffer the consequences of their actions. I can hear the fan in the room as he pulls down my shorts and pushes me into the chair. How many minutes does it take? I don’t know, honestly. I only know that I have a record album in my hands. I hold it up and read it over and over and over again. I don’t know what album it was. I only know he finally finishes and he walks away. I am 13 years old and, unbeknown to me, that day I become pregnant. Three months later, my mother sees what I didn’t know but she knew – stretchmarks on my young breasts. There is much hollering and fuss and then my father finally asks me who the father is. When I tell him, his response to me is, “Did you want this to happen?” I still don’t understand that question. He leaves my room and moments later I hear my mother crying and screaming, “My baby! My baby!” But she never comes in to console “her baby.” A few days later, I pee in a cup. A few days later, I’m told by my parents that I have an appointment. I am taken to a hospital for an abortion. Seated in a room with women older than I. A few hours later, it’s over and I’m vomiting my way out of the hospital. My mother offers me Nacho Cheese Doritos and Honey Buns to eat as soon as I get in the car. My middle brother is asked to leave our house then.
I start to get comfortable. Maybe that’s the end of it…
A few weeks later, I awake in the morning to my father’s hands between my legs. He asks me if it feels good. I reply that it doesn’t. He leaves that day, but returns morning after morning. And I am catapulted back into hell.
I attend a pizza event with some high school friends in October of that year. A conversation with a female friend leads me to reveal my suffering to her. She can’t handle it, but luckily for me there is a boy there who can. A boy whose mother works for CPS and who has the foresight to give him some of her business cards. He gives one to me that night.
I’m now 14 years old; I’m at the bowling alley after school with my father and my remaining brother. My father is at the counter, my brother is playing Asteroids and I am on the pay phone with CPS. They want to get me right then, but I ask for them to come to school the next day. And they do. I am taken that day to a receiving home which is the entry level home in the foster care system in California. A few days later, my mother is allowed to come to the home to bring me some clothing. She sits on the couch in their living room, crying. She wants to know why I did this to our family. I am stunned that she doesn’t believe me. She leaves crying and a few moments later, my father is at the door. Pounding, yelling, threatening. I am shoved into a back bedroom while the police are called. Shaken. My brothers are never charged with any crime because of their ages and locations. My father denies any wrongdoing at first. He claims that I abuse drugs and that I have been prostituting myself for cash. Eventually, he finds out that if he pleads guilty, he will spend no time in jail. He takes the plea and gets sentenced to community service and counseling. I am moved to a foster home. My social worker arrives a few weeks later to pick me up. To take me to attend my father’s first counseling session. I refuse to go and am told if I don’t? I’ll be taken to juvenile hall for defying a court order. I am stunned. My social worker is visibly upset at having to tell me this. He lets me slide that day, but next time… I attend sessions with my molester for several months and then he is proclaimed HEALED and I am put back into my parents’ home. Yes. He starts abusing me again. This time, I tell my mother with the warning that if she doesn’t make him stop, this time I won’t rely on the system to protect me. I will just leave. The molestation stops. The violence begins. I endure.
It’s hard to know where to end my story…
Flash forward… I meet, then marry my high school sweetheart when I am 19. When I am 21, I give birth to our first daughter. Four years later, our second. When my oldest daughter turns five, I began having difficulties. Episodes of disassociation and panic attacks send me into counseling. I begin with group sessions and then move into individual counseling. I speak to my therapist in one particular session about seeing my father in a store and having to run to the bathroom to vomit. She asks me why I still associate with him. My response is that it’s just something I have to do. It’s then that the sweetest words ever are spoken. “You know that you’re an adult now? You know you have a choice?” A few sessions later, I write my father a letter and ask him to stay away from me and my family. That was 17 years ago now.
Four years ago, I did some research on the internet regarding child abduction laws and I stumbled across a piece of legislation that was set to go before the California Senate that year. This piece of legislation was to change the incest exception law. Was to ensure that predators who “grow their own victims” receive the same punishments given to all molesters. It had gone before the Senate the year before and failed because the California legislators refused to believe that this sort of thing happened. I contacted the Senator who wrote the bill and offered my support. The next thing I knew, I was sitting at the Capitol speaking in front of a Senate Committee. Sharing my story. It waffled back and forth, but SB 33, The Circle of Trust Bill, passed. Three years ago, I was back in Sacramento again testifying. This time on behalf of legislation that would stop criminals convicted of a sexual crime from ever obtaining custody of their victim or any other child ever again. This piece of legislation passed as well.
I’m certainly not healed completely. My story doesn’t end here. I had limited contact with my mother for years but have since discontinued the contact because it became to harmful to me. I don’t know that I’ll ever forget her asking me, “When are you just going to get over it?” I’m twice divorced. Searching for my happiness still but I’ve raised two gorgeous, brilliant daughters who have never been abused. That is what I am most proud of. I am also proud that I was able to change the laws to hopefully help the children we all know are still out there – suffering. Perhaps eventually, I’ll be able to write more of my story. This time? With a happy ending.
86 Responses to “Eileen”
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thank you for sharing eileen. your daughters must be so proud of you. wishing you light and peace during your continued healing process.
You are awesome. Not only have you survived but you have worked to protect others. You are really amazing. Thank you.
Thank you for sharing and for your bravery. I’m sorry that the system put in place to protect you let you down and put you back in the hands of your father. I’m sorry you endured years of abuse from your brothers too. I can only imagine that they too suffered abuse that led to their perpetuating it onto you. Be proud of where you are and the choices you’ve made. You deserve your happy ending. xo k.
Thank you. And congratulations on rising above in taking initiatives for younger generations, for helping keep others safe.
I am utterly outraged that the system failed you so horribly – and in awe of your strength. Thank you for working so hard to make sure others are better protected than you were.
You are a hero.
To have survived your years of abuse is a tremendous feat. To then go on to make a better life for others is truly remarkable. Thank you.
I’m sorry I don’t know what to say. You are so brave.
I don’t know if you feel triumphant yet, but triumph is what I read here. I think you are AMAZING.
you are amazing. i am so very sorry for what you have endured, yet so happy, proud that your making a difference in stopping the evil. i thank you!
Thank you for being so strong-for everyone. How proud your daughters must be.
You’re proof that it can be OVERCOME! Relish that triumph. Time doesn’t heal all wounds but strength – and that triumph – can come pretty close.
May you find the peace and happiness that you so richly deserve.
Eileen-you are so brave, though I wish you never had to endure to suffer, you have helped so many children I am sure. Thank you so much for sharing your story for speaking out.
((hugs))
Thank you for sharing your story with us and to the California legislature. You are truly a hero and an inspiration and though I don’t really know you I am proud of you for all of this.
Know that you’ve helped countless children. Know that because of the legislation you helped pass so many children will be protected. Thank you.
Thank you for sharing, Eileen. There will be so many who benefit from your strength.
Wishing you peace and happiness.
How courageous! You MADE a happy ending. Not just for you, not just for your girls, but for so many other children. Thank you for helping to keep them safe!
Eileen, I am standing here- hat in hand. Silent. If the tears rolling down my face could form words, they would say how colossal this is. How incredibly powerful and decisive, this strength forged in the crucible of suffering that defies words.
Namaste.
-Ti
This is a heartbreaking but amazing story. From out of the ashes you came and helped other people. You are a survivor and your happiness will come, I’m sure of it.
WOW.
This sent chills all through my body. Thank you for sharing your story. I hope this will help other women/girls.
I am very proud of you.
Thank you for sharing your story.
Thank you for sharing. You truly are a hero for standing up and sharing your story to help others. I will pray that you continue to heal.
Beautifully and heartbreakingly told. Thank you for the sharing. I wish you continued healing and true happiness. Congratulations on providing your daughters the love and safety you were not granted.
I hope you know how brave you truly are. I wish I would have had the strength to go to CPS or the police. If I had my neice and nephew wouldn’ t have been molested 10 years after I was. That’s something I’ll live with for the rest of my life. Thank you working so hard to protect the little ones that can’t/don’t know how to protect themselves. You rock!
You are by far the most amazing person I’ve ever known.
I am so sorry for what happened to you, but thankful for the changes you have made.
Thank you for your courage–the courage to heal yourself, to raise your daughters safe and strong, and to stand up for others in similar situations. Thank you for telling your story.
Eileen, your story took me on a real roller coaster ride! I wanted to scream, to vomit, to scratch someone, to hug someone. Amidst all the horror you endured, the one aspect that is the most gut wrenching in my mind is of your mother not protecting you. Thank you for your courage to speak out against your entire relations (I cannot type the word family there). God bless you for being a survivor.
Thank you all for your wonderful comments. Your words have touched me deeper than I can verbalize.
xoxo,
Eileen
I am so thankful for your courage. To speak up. To testify to change laws. Thankful to you on behalf of my daughters, their friends, and children everywhere. Keep healing. Stay strong. And be proud of where you’ve gone and where you will go. Bless you.
Eileen, I am so tremendously sorry for all the things that happened to you. No child, no young woman, should ever have to go through anything like that. I am sending nothing but prayers for your continued healing.
I wish you only the greatest peace.
May God bless you and lead you to the safety and security you seek. Thank you for speaking out to protect others. Thank you for picking up the phone at the bowling alley and asking for help. Thank you for breaking the cycle. Thank you for being you.
You are amazing. Thank you for standing up for other abused children. Thank you for sharing. Thank you for being brave and strong.
Oh my god. Thank you. Thank you for speaking out, and for making a difference.
the knife to the heart for me was reading about how this system failed you.
i, too, was ambushed with “counseling” with my abuser.
i refused to go and since i was over 18 at the time, i wasn’t forced.
the tears came when i read what you’ve done to improve the system so that it doesn’t fail others.
you are an inspiration.
I cannot even imagine the courage it must have taken to not only escape your situation, but then to speak PUBLICLY about it in front of a courtroom years later. That is, without a doubt, one of the bravest things I have ever heard of. Thank you so much for sharing your story, and for standing up to change the laws that will hopefully protect other children. I also can’t imagine how you can even begin to heal wounds that deep, but I wish you the best of luck, love, and happiness. Everyone deserves to be healthy and whole.
You are…incredible. Admirable.
I hate how the word “hero” gets tossed around today. It should be reserved for people like you.
Wow, that sounds corny once it’s typed, but I really mean it. You not only endured and stood up for yourself, but helped who knows how many other kids.
Best wishes to you and your daughters. I have two little girls, too, and like you I’m determined to keep them safe.
Thank you, THANK YOU for standing up and speaking out for those who can’t. You have done the impossible – taken something so heinous and unbelievably awful and transformed your experience into something positive. You’re my new heroine.
Tears. They’re in my eyes and my heart that this happens, that anyone has to go through what you have. And THANK YOU for being brave enough to go in front of those who make the decisions that affect so very many people. You are so incredibly brave.
Thank you so much for sharing.
Thank you for your courage.
I hear your voice.
My heart stretches.
Eileen, you’re amazing. I think that you’ve already rewritten your story, triumphantly, and now all that’s left is the happy ending. Here’s hoping it comes soon, you deserve it.
Oh dear, what you endured! You must have felt so alone. But what courageous steps you’ve taken over and over – calling CPS, creating a safe home for our daughters, protecting the children you’ll never know. My hat is off to you.
The horror of the story that you so bravely shared is matched by the courage of sharing it here. It is overwhelmed by the courage and selflessness of sharing it publicly in the state legislature for the benefit of others. That was an act of love that defies description. Thank you. My prayers are for your continued healing.
It is because of women like you…so brave…so strong that we survivors can survive! You shared your story and made a difference. You spoke new legislation into existence. You sacrificed anonymity to make sure that nobody gets away with it.
Thank you!
Much love and bunches of hugs!
Thank you so much for the courage to speak out… and for changing the world for the better.
This story has a beautiful ending, Eileen. You saved others from being abused and you protected your daughters. You’re the hero.
Thank you so much for sharing this with us.
It shouln’t have happened. This stuff should not happen and it’s not OK. The fact that you do things to help and protect other young people is v. commendable. You sound like a bright intelligent woman. You had courage back then to make the phone call. Can you imagine all the young people who don’t feel brave or don’t know where to turn? I commend you for protecting them, and giving them opportunities to be brave. Our children are our most precious resource and God bless you for looking out for them. The soul is like a candle. It may wither a little, but it is always there. Even a little fire can bring it back to a mighty flame.
Thank you for speaking out and getting legislation passed that protects other survivors. You are an amazing woman and you should be very proud of yourself!
Your courage and resolve to protect others from your fate is amazing. Thank you for sharing your story here and for reliving it in your efforts to change laws.
I’m crying , not for you, but with you.
Your story is similar to mine, except I have never told anyone.
I’ve been writing a book about it to clear it from my memory.
But some parts I have left out because I just can’t say them to myself.
I will probably never try to publish the book, but I want to.
I want someone else to learn from me that things can be different.
I’m just not ready yet.
I hope I will be someday.
Someone used the word “hero” above me here. I don’t think that’s overstating it in even a small way. Heroes overcome, they endure, they live to carry the fight into the dark places. So many people have lived through what you did and can’t even bear to speak the words to someone they know and trust. You’ve done all that and more. Even though I’m sure it’s cost you terribly.
And perhaps because you’ve made that sacrifice — laid your deepest pain on the altar of the greater good — the children of California will be safer. they will be free to grow up without the fear that plagued your childhood, and perhaps still plagues you today.
Courage, someone once said, is not the absence of fear. Courage is the measure to which one lays aside the fear to accomplish the greater goal.
We are fortunate to have you here. To have your voice added to the chorus.
Much love.
Eileen, out of all the stories I’ve read here, yours has affected me the most. I can’t even fathom the amount of sheer evil that you’ve been subjected to. Yet you shine. You’re the bravest. You’re the hero. You amaze me.
It took a tremendous amount of courage to stand up and help get that law passed, and I really admire that you have been able to create for your daughters the safe and loving environment that you were denied. Thank you for sharing your story.
[...] i’m out there once more… sharing… if you’d like to read… me on violence unsilenced [...]
Eileen, I am so sorry for what you endured. Thank you for speaking out, and especially, working to change the laws.
Words simply fail me. You are amazingly brave and I am so glad that you shared your story, not only here, but in front of the Senate to help change what it so incredibly wrong with our system. Your courage means that we can hope to hear less and less of these stories. No one should have to suffer in the way that you have suffered, and for that I am so sorry. Be proud of yourself for what you have accomplished and the hope you have helped grant to others. Many well wishes for your continued healing.
God bless you! Thank you for your courage in coming forward and the best to you and your girls!
Your activism is so inspiring. Keep on the hard work both out in the world and in your own psyche. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for sharing your story. You are so courageous for all that you have done to help others. Some parts of your story resonated very strongly with me. Thank you.
Thank you for sharing your story. I’m sure this wasn’t easy. It’s amazing to see how you’ve survived and made a change. Most people become bitter after suffering for as many years as you did. You are living proof that goodness can prevail.
Good Luck.
~ Jaded16
I don’t know what to say….because words seem so inadequate. But thank you for sharing your story and for testifying for laws to help others in ways you should have been helped. Wish you a smooth journey and many precious memories with your beautiful daughters.
You spoke out in legislation. I’m so proud of you — for helping the children of the present and future.
Thank you for speaking out and fighting to protect not only your own children but countless others.
Thank you for sharing your story. Your courage is inspiring. Thank you for fighting for those who can’t fight for themselves.
((you)) … so tight…
You are strong.
You are awesome.
Lovin’ you.
peace…
I am so very very humbled by, and proud of your strength. Blessings to you for protecting and helping other children through sharing your story. I wish you happiness. ((HUGS)) Thank you, for sharing your life, for helping others…
Thank you for sharing this story….thank you for breaking your silence.
Thank you for sharing your story. Your writing is very profound, and although I am a complete stranger, I want you to know that I am so proud of your work for victims, and for staying “afloat”. You are an amazing person. I am still shocked how many sick people there are in this world. Good luck in your recovery.
You are so incredibly goddamned brave. I am sorry for all you went through, and I realize that sounds lame and not quite enough. But I could not read your story and not say something. There isn’t enough justice in the world for your molesters, and for your mother for allowing it to happen. My oldest sister was knocked across the room by my birthmother for telling about her stepfather’s sexual abuse. I don’t understand abusers, but I understand the parents who allow it even less.
Thank you for sharing your story.
I know how much it hurt to cut yourself off from your mom, even though you had to do it. We so need our moms to comfort the devastated child that we are. It is another form of violation when they don’t. When I posted my survivor’s story on my blog without naming names, members of my family found out and raked me over the coals for exposing my family to the world that way. They believed I shouldn’t have spoken publicly of such a private matter, or they suffered misery not knowing who the perp was. The woman who was like a mother to me was the worst offender. Not one person from my family of origin said “I’m sorry you suffered that.” My therapist said denial runs rampant through families of sexual abuse.
I’m proud of you. I’m so sorry you experienced such pain. I’m thankful you have spoken out at the level of lawmakers. Wishing you well in your recovery…
Your story is heartbreaking and I hope your healing contiues. Thank you for sharing and for being an advocate for those who cannot speak for themselves.
You are amazing.
It never ceases to amaze me when I hear of parents failing their children. Which is only more amazing since my own parents certainly failed me.
Thank you for having the courage to write this and to help change the law.
Thank you for having the courage to not only survive, share your story and raise two happy, healthy children but to also help ensure that other people won’t fall victim to the same abuses you suffered. Amazing.
yours is an amazing story.
thank you for all you have done.
Eileen,
You’re not responsible for what others did to you. You are responsible for the wonderful things you’ve done, and continue to do, to help other victims of sexual violence. You’re strong, You’re Courageous, You’re Beautiful. Congratulations on being you.
How did you ever find the courage to be normal?
Thank you.
Thank you thank you thank you thank you. It was worse for you than it was for me. Thank you.
That was the most difficult thing I’ve ever read. You’re better than your abusers; you’re better because you are stronger than them.
To go through all this and become a voice for those that don’t have one is truly amazing. I wish you healing and peace on your journey.
Thank you so much for sharing your story. But most of all, thank you for taking the pain and the hurt and changing not only your own story, but for those who have no one to stand up for them. Thank you.
Eileen,
I just want to hug you. Reading your story, and all of the other stories here, I feel like I’ve found a family.
your sister in survivorship,
Amber
Thank you for being the change. For sharing. For helping to create two women who haven’t been touched by abuse.
I relate very well to this well-written and emotional piece. Thank you for letting the circle end with you. It may take you time to get healed, but at least you didn’t carry it on. For some of us that have been abused, the cycle had taken years to manifest. It takes some of us with more courage to end it and begin to heal.
Thank you so much for sharing your story, Eileen. You are brave, courageous and a wonderful source of inspiration.
Whenever I feel like I can’t take it anymore, like I can’t go on, I’m going to remember you, Eileen. I’m going to remember your story, and you will always be a source of strength and inspiration for me, every single day.
You are amazing!
Wow, I can’t believe how brave you are to take steps to help others. I hope you find your happy ending soon.
I am so mad at your mom. She does not deserve any of your attention.
hi,
I am so sorry for what you went through. But you did an amazing thing when you supported the legislation that will help other abuse survivors to hold their abusers accountable. Good for you! You are amazing! God Bless!