Hello Everyone,
I hope you all are in the pink of your health like me. I am so thankful to God for this beautiful life he has given and for all the many blessing in my life. Though my life was not always beautiful; it was filled with dark moments sometimes. Life has given different kinds of experiences so far. You know, some experiences don't end the day they happen. They stay with us quietly, shaping our thoughts, our fears, and sometimes even our identity. This is one of those stories.
I was very young (just 12) when I was sexually abused by someone known to my family. It took me almost 6-7 years to tell anyone what I had been through.
Back then, we used to have water problems often as most of us have not had water connections except the NMC one. One day we had lack of water at home and we needed to fill it from somewhere. So I went to the neighbor’s house with my aunt (we have a joint family) to fill the water. Colony’s other people were also there who had come to fill the water along with that uncle. A man who used to live in our neighborhood and I used to refer him as an uncle.
I was waiting for my turn and he was just standing behind me with his both hands on my shoulder. I let him keep his hands on my shoulder because I used to treat him as my uncle only. But who knew what his intentions were! Suddenly, he did something that was so strange to me and I was just stumped for a moment. Then, I twitched his hands back and ran away towards my home. Everyone was so busy in filling the water that no one has noticed what had happened.
After that incident, I lived in a constant fear. I had to deal with different emotions that came to the surface. I was scared about what I would do to him if I saw him again. That uncle used to visit our home on occasions and like every other parent, my parents used to ask me to greet him. At times, I used to manage to greet him in any way and other times I did not. Instead, I used to neglect him and used to run away from there.
That tended to question my parents on my behaviors that “it’s rude” and it should not be done. This was the thing that not even my family understood and it was not actually their fault, what they could have done. They did not even know what I was facing and from what situation I was going through.
Looking back, it feels like I lost a part of my childhood that day. It was the incident that impacted my life in certain ways. As I grew older, I stopped going out alone; be it school, tuition classes, shopping, hangouts, you name it. I used to hesitate to go alone anywhere. I began to develop self-destructive behaviors and had low self-esteem. At times, I used to hit my siblings and cousins too.
Looking back today, I understand that my anger, low self-esteem, and fear weren't random. They were my mind's way of coping with something I didn't yet know how to process. When a child is suffering from an abuse, this is common. Children suffering abuse develops a range of self-destructive, maladaptive, and antisocial behaviors. And the same has happened to me. In fact, I became aggressive in nature since then. When someone doesn’t understand my thoughts and words I still became aggressive at times.
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My school journey was not easy at all. I fought with my inner battle inside all alone! As I started my college, even though many things had changed over the years, I still had low self-esteem, fear of going out alone, etc. And you might agree with me that “no one would like to live that way,” I too didn't want to.
I knew I had to do something about this. I focused on keeping my fear at bay; I fought with my different emotions. I started with small things and did hard struggle to kick those things off. Holding in everything was such an effort so I decided to share this incident with someone and I shared this for the very first time with my sister. As I started narrating the story to her, I burst into tears and believe me I actually felt a lot better after that, after sharing my memoir with her.
Healing doesn't erase the past. It teaches us that our past doesn't get to decide our future. And now, I can happily say my hard work paid me off. Over the years I have learned to love myself. I am far more confident in who I am now. I love being me, “Mai apni favorite hoon.”
My message to anyone out there who has experienced something similar is:
- Just don’t keep it to yourself. Speak up about it because speaking and talking about our experiences helps us to make sense of our feelings and
- Never give up because scars can heal, and life can get better. Mine has. It may take time, but you can heal no matter what you have been through.
Don’t forget -- “You are stronger than you think!”
Stay Blessed, Be Happy...!! :-)
Preeti




