Member-only story
Rubbing Scars: A story of surviving sexual assault
Trigger warning: This post contains graphic content of sexual assault and sexual abuse against a child. If you or someone you know is a survivor of sexual assault and you are suffering, please call RAINN at 1–800–656–4673.
All of the events in this essay are true, to the best of my memory. Names, relationships, and other identifying details have been removed, as much as authentically possible.
Please keep your comments respectful and loving.
I am six years old. I think. It’s unclear my exact age because my parents never talked about it growing up and the legal records are now sealed. I am six, give a take a few years, and I am sitting on my bedroom floor between my bed and the wall. I’m not wearing pants and my legs are spread apart. He is sitting across from me, his hair is slicked back, in a pony tail. He uses his fingers to spread the lips of vagina apart. He is inspecting it. He has to lower his head to see what is down there, in there. Sticking his fingers inside me, he opens my vagina up. He inspects me with his eyes and fingers. He is ten years older than I am and my babysitter.
Where is my younger brother while this is happening? Is he with my parents? Where are they? What are they doing? It’s the daytime so why would they need me to stay home? What would they both be…
