By Margaret Casteneda
It has been 23 years since the last time he touched me. I have been to therapy, spoken to psychologists and psychiatrists and have gone through three types of antidepressants. If I had been sexually abused by just one person, I don’t know if recovery would have been easier. From the age of 5 to the age 11, I was allowed to be left alone with pedophiles. A family friend, a cousin and a mariachi.
There are two roads a sexual abuse survivor can go down. One road shuns sex. The other leads to a woman who only knows how to use her sexuality. I thought because the men that abused me were so close to me, that that was how you showed people you loved them. I didn’t even know you were supposed to enjoy sex or make noise until I was 23.
It wasn’t just sex that was ruined by these men, my relationships with everyone changed. I didn’t know who I could trust. Sometimes, I still don’t. I was always suspicious of any man that showed any type of attention.
In many of my relationships, if I can call them that, I needed heavy drinking to be able to have sex. There was no intimacy. I was never in a relationship long enough to build that. I was afraid of what they would think of me once they knew my dark secret. Would they stay with me or think I was to blame, a tramp that allowed this to happen? The ongoing joke was that their week was up. They may have lasted longer, but once I thought they were getting too close, I was done.
I eventually learned that what they had done to me was not my fault. That's what my head knew, but the rest of me was so messed up, my judgment was pretty screwed. I never thought I was good enough for anyone, I felt I was too broken. Broken goods and a lifetime to go. Never thought I would live to see 25. I did many things that I am not proud of and many things I'm not ashamed of to help me survive and understand what I was going through.
In my career and in my personal life, I had few friends. I knew a lot of people. I was always laughing and cracking wise, but few knew how bad my depression got. The self-loathing and worthlessness that overwhelmed me. If it weren’t for my daughter, I don’t know where I would be now.
32 years later and I still have issues. I was struggling with the fact that I to drink to relax and not jump at the touch of the man who loves me. Our relationship started as friends. We worked together on some marketing projects, had lunch together. That lead to phone calls and meeting up to go shopping. I was able to confide in him and tell him my deep dark secrets. The good, the bad and the funny. Six months in to our friendship I realized I was in love. I didn’t want to run or push him away. It hasn’t been easy. He has been patient when we’re intimate and I have an anxiety attack or a flashback. Didn’t get upset when I had to stop because it felt wrong or dirty. I finally spoke with a doctor and he prescribed antidepressant /anti-anxiety meds. He said he was amazed that I was so well functioning with the PTSD I had suffered through for years. I never thought of it that way. I just needed to get better so that my daughter could see what a healthy relationship between two loving people is. We have been together five years this April and are engaged. His love and kindness has helped me battle this forever demon.