Nothing is ever what they say it is.

Even at a young age, I kinda always knew,or maybe I didn't. I mean, it was all I knew. I thought that it was perfectly fine.All girls went through it. It wasn't until I was older that I came to realize it wasn't Okay. It Wasn't Fine, It Wasn't A Normal Thing. I’d shove it out of my memory,but each and every time it happened;I just kept pushing it back. Pretending it was normal,that was one of my ways of coping. But it only worked for a short period of time.

And then you start remembering,reliving everything that happened.Memories resurface from the depths of what you never even knew you had. Flashbacks, more horrifying and descriptive than that from a horror writers mind. I guess for me, even the slightest touch would send me spiraling back. They aren't triggered by anything specific,even bumping into someone can cause one. And even now, its sad to think about how much it really still affects me.

The only reason I keep it to myself is because I honestly don’t want to ruin my family anymore than they already are. I may have never had a childhood but that doesn't mean I have to ruin his. I Envied him growing up. He was the boy. He wasn't getting abused. He got off Scot Free. All because I’m a girl. All because of something that now comes with many tears and possible hours of alcoholism in my early to late twenties.The words”Daddy’s little girl”reak like acid in my throat.

I Still wonder if Maybe its all just my fault. Maybe everything that happened was because I didn't say no enough times.

What’s even worse is when people ask me If “I’m in a safe environment”? I’d honestly rather hear ”Are you out of the situation” or “Are you okay” or “Is it still going on”. And I suppose what’s more upsetting than all that put together;I can only honestly answer yes to one of those questions.

And its not the one I’d like it to be.