Write the whole incident again as soon as possible.
If you were unable to complete the assignment the first time, please write more than last time.
Add more sensory details and your thoughts and feelings during the incident.
Also, this time write your current thoughts and feelings in parentheses.
My therapist said I already did a good job of this in Session 3. So, I need to rewrite it in chronological order and add current feelings. I also have a few ABC worksheets she asked me to complete.
1) He thought I was sleeping.
2) What did he want with me?
3) I couldn't speak up.
4) Why didn't I yell louder?
Rewrite:
Before I began writing details, I actually sat down and calculated the age, grade, and year the incidents occurred.
May of 1997. I was 12 and in 7th grade.
In August of 1996, I lived in St. Charles, Missouri. I was in 7th grade, in middle school. Kristie was my best friend. She was pretty much my only friend. I had known her since 1st grade.
(I feel happy.)
By the time the account happened, I wasn't perfect. Kristie's house was really the only house I had ever slept over at. I felt comfortable there. It was my second home. If I would go anywhere else, I'd always get homesick.
(I feel slightly embarrassed but realize it's a normal feeling for that age.)
I can remember sneaking out for the first time at Kristie's house. We stole a cigarette from her mom and a beer from her mom's boyfriend. We snuck out Kristie's bedroom window in the middle of the night, walked down the street, shared the cigarette and beer, and snuck right back in. We felt rebellious.
(I feel ashamed. I wouldn't want my kids to do that in 7th grade. However, it makes me smile when I think about how we thought we were so cool by sharing that one cigarette and beer.)
Kristie was my best friend. My safe place. I, at 30, still talk to her even though we live half a country apart. (I feel happy. We have grown to be as opposite as we could possibly be, but we still remain in eachother's life. Her mom, who lives in Missouri, even came to my sister's baby shower this past March. Those childhood memories make me smile and laugh.)
Kristie was the leader, and I was the follower.
(I feel embarrassed knowing I was once a follower, but I am thankful that it made me realize how to lead followers.)
We moved from St. Charles, Missouri to Belleville, Illinois in January 1997. I started 7th grade in a whole new school and a whole new state. I knew nobody. I got to start over. I got to be whoever I wanted to be.
(I felt happy when we moved, but now I feel angry. Why did we move? For my dad to make more money? It's always about money.)
I was 12. I always told myself that I was 13. I guess me thinking I was a "teenager" made me feel older.
(I feel sad that I purposely lied to myself for 17 years about my age during the accounts.)
One of my first friends was Jamie Stephens. Jamie was beautiful. She was tall, super smart, super friendly, blonde hair, beautiful white teeth, and big boobs. And she was on the Pom squad. She was a person anyone would want as a friend. Everyone. She wanted to be my friend. She was/looked completely opposite of me. I wanted to be her with her huge smile of perfect, white teeth. When we discovered we only lived about 10 houses down from eachother, on the same street, it was like destiny. In Belleville all of the schools were HUGE. My highschool had thousands of students. It was very rare that you find someone you can get along with that lives within walking distance when you're only 12.
(I feel sad because I should've had more confidence in myself to feel like I could have had more than just one, good friend.)
But we didn't hang out much on evenings or weekends. Probably because we were too young. She got me to try out for the Pom squad, and I made it the first tryout. I loved every minute of it. It eventually was the reason I kept up cheerleading throughout highschool and college.
(I feel happy. I loved Pom and Cheerleading.)
I remember I had my first "French" kiss (it was a huge deal at this age, everyone was talking and asking about it) in February 1997, when I was 12. It was at the Teen Center (a dance hangout, alcohol, smoke, and drug free) with a super tall basketball player with HUGE braces. I don't remember how we even started "going out" or how we broke up. We probably just quit talking. I don't ever remember talking to him on the phone or hanging out other than at the Teen Center (remember, no cell phones or text messages back then).
(I feel embarrassed when I think of that horrible kiss and how desperate of a move it was.)
My first kiss was significant because it starts your sexual curiosity. You begin to think about what's going to happen next. Nothing ever happened with the basketball player besides the horrid kiss.
I remember being one of the last kids in my grade to get their "first kiss". So, I think it was more of a desperate act for both of us, who had never kissed before.
(I feel amused at the fact that it was based on desperation instead of feelings.)
Through Jamie I also met other kids in our "neighborhood" (around the next 3 blocks). Most of them happened to be boys: Neil, Brandon, Jordan, and Kristin.
(I feel happy. I loved and love those guys and girl still. Brandon died young (25) from a side effect of medication that caused his heart to stop. I still keep up with the other 3 on Facebook, especially Neil. Neil and I usually just text, still to this day.)
Jamie got me into the group. We were a group, but back then I was closest to Jamie.
(The "group" makes me feel happy. We would often play basketball or hang out at my house. I remember that Jordan and I both didn't have "Winter Ball" dates in middle school, so being close friends, we took eachother. Friends is all.)
That all changed.
It was May. I was 12. I would be 13 in June. We still had our "group". Jamie asked me to spend the night. I had only spent the night at Kristie's before. I said yes. She had this super cool upstairs bedroom. The entire upstairs was her room. I guess it was a redone attic. The only people that lived at her house was Jamie, her mom, and her brother, Kyle Stephens.
(I feel angry knowing what I am about to write.)
I didn't know anything about her dad.
Jamie was a new house to sleep at, but she didn't sneak out or smoke or drink beer. She was a perfect angel. I wanted to be her.
(I am mortified. My aspirations at the age of 12 were not realistic.)
It was so hot in her room that we had to sleep downstairs, in her living room. I was scared and nervous anyway, so I liked the idea. Her mom's room was right behind the living room. Only a wall between her and us. I felt safer than upstairs even though the front door was only 15 feet away. I was worried about the thought of a stranger breaking in.
(I feel ashamed. I thought it was safer in the living room. I worried about strangers breaking in the house and her mom being close by to save us. I was naïve to think that dangers could come from elsewhere, but I was also 12.)
She had a big TV on the floor of her living room. We watched movies. I fell asleep on the floor in front of the TV. Jamie fell asleep on the couch behind me.
I wake up. I couldn't figure out why I woke up, I think he must have touched me and then he moved away. I don't remember seeing him that time. I fell back asleep, but not a deep one because I soon woke back up. I woke up to her brother kneeling on the blanket which was still covering me.
He was a senior in highschool. A popular, good looking one. He was a baseball star. I had never talked to him before but had seen him around.
What did he want with me?
(I feel disgusted.)
He started touching me all over. I was so confused. I didn't have any "experience" other than my first kiss.
I didn't know what to do. He was so much bigger than me. He overpowered me. I remember pushing his hands away. I never yelled.
(I feel angry.)
Jamie was 10 feet from me on the couch. Their mom was in the next room. Me pushing him away didn't work. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to look. I was scared.
(I feel scared.)
He touched me everywhere. Under the blanket, under my PJ shirt, under my shorts, under my underwear.
(I feel disgusted.)
He touched whatever he wanted. I whispered NO and STOP with my eyes closed. Maybe he thought I was sleeping.
(I feel embarrassed about assuming he thought I was sleeping. He knew I woke up.)
Maybe I wanted him to think I was sleeping so I could pretend it wasn't happening. I don't know how long he did this. Not long. Maybe 10 minutes. My eyes were closed the entire time. I don't know why I kept my eyes closed.
Just writing this makes my legs tighten. He finally left. Just left. Not a word. I was confused. I didn't know what to think or do. I was scared and lied awake the rest of the night. I waited there. I don't even remember where the bathroom was in her house. I didn't even get up to go to the bathroom. I waited there until Jamie woke up in the morning. I felt safer but was scared to see him. I left her house as soon as I could that morning. I never said what happened to anyone. I never saw Kyle.
(I feel angry.)
I started avoided Jamie and started talking more to Neil, but he was a boy. He lived four houses down, but I trusted him. We never thought of eachother as more than just friends, still to this day. And, still, in 2014, I keep in contact with Neil. He's a friend I will always have.
(I feel safe and happy.)
I still hung around Jamie at school. She was one of my only friends, and she was perfect. It was just her brother. It wasn't her fault. She didn't know, and I wouldn't tell her. She was one of the only people I knew. I think I was one of her closest friends too. A couple weeks later she asked me to spend the night again.
No.
I told myself no. Then I thought, maybe I can just stay away from Kyle and still have my friend. I remember, somehow, without her getting suspicious, asking if we could sleep upstairs even though it was hot. I like listening to fans. It helps me fall asleep. I don't know if this came about before or after the account. Fans calm me.
She said yes.
I also knew it was prom weekend. I was 12, but I knew. Kyle was very popular. He'd be at prom. He probably wasn't coming home after, right? I was in middle (6. 7. 8th grade), and he was in high school (9, 10, 11, 12th grade). Somehow I started the conversation. He was going. He was going out with his buddies after. He wasn't coming home at all that night.
Upstairs and no Kyle? I said yes.
Why? I don't know.
(I feel angry and embarrassed. Many people will think, why twice? Why would you let this happen twice?)
We got ready for bed. Her mom said we had to sleep downstairs.
Why is this such a big deal?
(After thought from therapy: Was he mom worried about Kyle because of something he'd already done? Is that why we had to sleep by their mom?)
I couldn't speak up. I wouldn't give a reason. He wasn't going to be home anyway.
(I feel angry.)
This time I slept on the couch. It had a side to protect me, even though he wasn't going to be home. It took me forever to fall asleep.
Why didn't I just go home? I was just down the road. Was it too late to go home? Would I look like a homesick baby? I was 12.
I fell asleep on the couch. I woke up. This time his hands didn't stop when I woke up. They were stronger. He did everything again, but with more confidence.
(I feel enraged.)
I remember crying out, but not loud. Why not? Jamie was on the next couch. He told me to shush.
(I am enraged.)
My eyes stayed closed. When he was done, he left.
Somehow, maybe I was numb by now, I fell asleep.
(I feel embarrassed.)
I awoke to his mom yelling, "What are you doing?" I opened my eyes. Kyle was hovered over the side of the couch, not touching me, not talking. He just glared at me with his eyes. He moved away from the couch. He never said anything.
(I feel angry. Did his mom know anything?)
Their mom had pancakes ready. I sat down, as if nothing was wrong. Kyle sat across from me, next to his mom. He looked at me and purposely put his fingers to his nose and smelled them. Nobody noticed but me.
(I feel disgusted and mortified.)
He found out I was going to be there and came home after prom. He didn't say this. I just know. Did he tell his friends?
(I feel angry.)
I left. I told Neil. I begged him not to tell. He promised me that we won't ever go around them, including Jamie, or their house, again.
We didn't. Jamie was out of my life, even during highschool.
(I feel sad.)
After the accounts I became a leader. I am no longer a follower. I like/need being in control. I am proud to be a leader and try to be a good one. My boys will be great leaders too.
(I feel proud.)
I started my period when I was 13. I was later than almost, and possibly, everyone in my grade. I was statutorily raped before I even started my period.
(I feel angry and disgusted.)
Around 2006, Jamie sent me a message on Facebook asking me to be her friend. I had pushed her from my memory. She/He was back. I immediately, without even thinking twice, said no.
(I feel sad.) (I cannot face her. I am scared to see pictures or for her brother to find out about me and where I live.)
In 2008, I told my husband. The second person I ever told. I said, "I was molested by a friend's brother." He asked, "Were you raped?" I answered, "No."
That was it. That was the entire conversation.
(I am angry. Why didn't he ask more? Was it no big deal to him?)
This past year I decided to talk.
I opened up.
When I was 12, Kyle Stephens, a legal adult at the time, statutorily raped me twice.
(I am ANGRY.)
