I Am Not A Public Speaker - 998 Words

My Journey I’d finally hit rock bottom. There was nowhere else to go. And the horrible reality I didn’t ever want to face was now right in front of me. Waiting for something to be done. I wanted to run. Away from everything. But I needed to face it. I had to. I did. I have. Yet, when my sister asked me to share my experiences on this blog, I was scared: what do I say? How do I say it? How will people react? I am not a public speaker; is not for everyone. But I believe I have finally found my voice, regardless of whether it is verbal or written. Everyone goes through steps of pain and grief in different ways; this is mine. I was 5. We look to our parents to be protectors. My father told me growing up that what was†¦show more content†¦Instead, all that she was left with was the watery eyes of a ten year old, and a deafening silence of which she didn’t question. I was scared. I was scared I would be ripped apart from her. No one would believe you anyway. But I wanted to tell her. Yet, I could never bring myself to do it. Because of him. He wasn’t this horrible man all the time; he wasn’t a monster. I thought my mum had a good marriage. I knew she loved my father, and I didn’t want to ruin that. Yet, that never stopped me from seeing him as two different people. He wasn’t just horrible all the time; he was my dad. It came in spurts. Sometimes it would happen for two weeks – these awful, horrible things – then six to eight months would go by and he would be this amazing father. And I don’t know if it took a couple of years for him to groom me into this situation; how he gained my trust, believing him when he was telling me he was teaching me. I was confused. I felt like it was dirty and I felt that it was wrong. And I hated it, but†¦ I enjoyed the attention I got from him. He made me feel like a horrible person, but I wanted him to love me. I was his daughter. I didn’t want to lose that part of him, and I was scared if I told my mother she wouldn’t believe me or I would ruin her marriage, and that I would lose the only father figure I had. So I reasoned inwardly that if my mother ever wanted to ask me about that day, she would. And I would tell her