The Story Of US
Well I am a therapist with a difference, a therapist with a story, a very bitter story. If you think my bitter story influenced my career as a "therapist", you are wrong and at the same time you are right. You are confused right? well I had always loved counseling, I had always eyed that profession. Counseling is beautiful, you get to feel the pains people feel, you get to have a broader sense of life. I said you were right the other time right? well yes, something gave me a passion, a terrible story gave me this passion that drove me to be one of the best therapist Nation wide and is still driving me.
Let me take you back to my days as a kid. My childhood wasn't that awesome, I mean I am a product of a broken home, I have never met my mom. Never, not once, my father never remarried, he did something worse. Something that took my joy away, I know they say having to live with a step mother was terrible but it would have been better. I would have preferred living with a wicked step mother than having to see different women walk into my father's room daily. Sometimes I even get to see more than two women waltz into our house with mini skirts and heavy make up.
Don't start hating on my father, let me tell you something about him. Despite the fact that my father was a "womanizer" he always set out time for me, he made it a duty to chat with me for at least 1 hour daily. He made sure I got good food, clothes and education. My father was a caring man, I only wished he dropped the "womanizing" title.
My father isn't a monster but my story wouldn't be complete if i don't tell you this. When I was six I almost got raped, yes by my father. Before you judge my dad let me tell you how it happened. That night I was watching my favorite cartoon show when my dad stormed in, I was quite surprised because this time there was no woman by his side. When he got closer to me I almost died, he reeked of alcohol. He told me to get to my room, that it was too late. Five minutes after I got to my room, I heard the door shut loudly, it was my father, wait when did he open the door? He came to my bed and started touching me, I thought “it’s normal right? he's my father. But it passed the level of normal when he started rough handling me. I shouted "dad" with all the strength left in me, he immediately stopped, it was as if a veil was removed from his eyes and he could now see clearly. He broke down in tears and melted to the ground, never have I seen my father cry. He said sorry over a thousand times, the next day he enrolled me in a taekwondo school to learn self defense. He gave me a long talk on rape and what to do if I find myself in that situation. He promised never to drink again but he came back the next day drunk with a woman by his side.
Now going to the tragic part of my story. When I was twelve, my father had to go on a business trip, the trip was to last one week. I had to stay in my cousins house for that week, I was actually happy to be there. My cousin was four years older than me, so while I was twelve he was fourteen. He was a jolly teenager, he always had one gist or the other for me each time we met. Things were however different this time, the boy I saw wasn't the cousin I knew, this one always wore a long face opposed to my normal jolly cousin. Could this be his hormones at work, I had heard before that time that teenagers usually had bad mood swings.
I retired to my room when it was night, I mean I had no one to talk to. Suddenly I heard a knock on my door, it was my cousin, I was so happy, I would finally get cool gist. I was still in my elated state when I noticed his eyes, they held a gaze that spelt danger. What was going on? Before I could say Jack he pinned me to the bed, I couldn't speak, I was too shocked to react. He had penetrated into me before I knew what was going on, I guess it was the pain that jolted me out of my shocked state. I tried to fight back but it was too late, where was my self defense skill when I needed it? When he was done, he stood up, I noticed a drop of tear roll down his cheek. Why was he crying after he raped me? He should have thought of it before hand, I cried my eyes out. His next statement shocked me, I actually thought he was going to apologize, but here was what he said "let no soul hear about this, zip up" and he left. How could he be so cruel, this happened repeatedly twice before I left their house. Each time I tried to fight, he won the battle, the worst part was I couldn't speak up!
I lived with that scar for four good years, I wasn't myself, I began living in the shadow of someone else. I used to be outspoken but after that incident, I became an introvert. When I was sixteen, I lost my dad to an auto crash, my already crumbled world shattered before my very eyes. My father willed all his property to me but I couldn't access it until I clocked eighteen, I had to go live with my cousin. Fire was burning on my mountain and no one could see it.
When I got to my cousin's house, I went straight to my room. I developed a routine, I only came out of my room when I had to, I made sure I locked the doors. I avoided my cousin like a plague, I shied away from every family meeting that would warrant seeing him.
I knew that I would still have to confront him one day, that day came and fear stole my heart away. My aunt and her husband had to go on a journey, I was left alone in the house with my cousin. Immediately they left the house, I ran to my room and locked the door, I had stocked my room with snacks and beverages that could last me days. I never left my room, the first day came and went, the second day followed suit. On the third day, I heard a knock on my door, it was no one else than my cousin. His voice held so much pain as he beckoned on me to open my door. " Steph please open this door, I'm sorry, let me at least speak to you" he pleaded. I pretended not to hear, after an hour or so his constant pleas stopped, I thought he had left so I opened the door. Lo and behold my cousin was still at my door "James what in heaven's sake do you want from me!" I screamed.
He begged that I let him in but I insisted we talk in the sitting room, little did I know I was about to hear something tragic. " Steph I am sorry, I was so stupid, I wanted to get revenge, I took it out on you" he said in tears. What was he saying? what revenge? I decided to keep quiet and let him finish his story. " I started experiencing abuse from the age of four, my nanny raped me, I know you must think I'm foolish, and that boys don't get raped. I never knew what was going on until I was twelve, I told her I was going to report her to my parents but she shut me up. She told me no one would believe me and that if I tried it she was going to kill me, she made me do unimaginable things. This continued till I was fifteen, I had already known all the different sex styles and techniques. Miraculously she was sacked but it was rather too late, I'm sorry Steph, I shouldn't have done that to you. I was just so thirsty for revenge and I took it out on you, I tried to reach out to you severally and apologize but you were always avoiding me. Forgive me Stephanie" he ended his story In tears.
I remained Stuck on my sit as I let my brain process all he said. I didn't even know how I got to where he was standing, I hugged him so tight as we both cried. it was there and then I decided to be a therapist.
In my years of being in this profession, I have seen and heard different things. Things unspeakable, unimaginable, how should I start this part of my story? A beautiful girl walked into my office one Saturday morning, her face was pale and her eyes have lost color. What could have been wrong with her?
"Ma'am, I don't even know how to explain myself, I doubt you will believe me. I am a 200 level University student, I was a virgin living a wild life. I went to parties with my friends, danced, but refused to *follow guys home*, if you know what I mean. I never knew that my friends were cooking up a plan to finish me, some of them were bisexual. I was invited for a birthday party in my friends house, I dressed up and made it there some minutes before time. I was hoping to meet a large crowd, but I saw just some of my friends and a few guys. After some time I was lured into a room, I didn't suspect anything, we were friends right? Before I registered what was happening, one of my friends pushed me to the bed, there were about three girls in that room that day. The rest held my two legs apart, within minutes, she had started fingering me. I struggled to break free but what strength did I have? They fingered me till they saw blood, another girl took over and this time, it was a dildo. I couldn't cry enough, the pain was unbearable, when they were "done", they left me crying there. I thought I was free, little did I know that they had just started with me. About three guys entered the room, ma'am the rest is history. Should I have lost my virginity that way?" she finished in tears.
I just sat there with my mouth open and tears running from my eyes. I couldn't coordinate my brain for about five minutes, so I just hugged her as I prayed for God to give me inspiration. I introduced her to some support groups and I checked up on her from time to time.
Another day came, with another tragic story, this time it was a guy. He was about 18 years, he walked straight to my table and held my hands as he cried. He told me of how a girl raped him at knife point and how he tested positive for an STD afterwards.
The most tragic case I've handled so far is that of a 17 year old teenage girl. Tragic because she resulted to killing her self, she felt her life was over. She couldn't walk freely on the streets because she had become a laughing stock, because she got raped? She was raped by her boyfriend who didn't understand the concept of consent. "I loved him but I wasn't ready yet, I tried to explain to him but he was caught up in a different spirit, he raped me. I reported to the police, he was apprehended but he never slept In prison, he got a bail. Each time I walk through the streets it feels like I'm suffocating, I am dying and no one can see it" she dropped a paper with her number and stormed out of my office. I called her line the next day, a different person picked the call and told me she died of drug overdose. I cried so hard that day.
Now I have a non governmental organization, what we do here is to counsel rape victims and strengthen them. We tell them that their life is not over, I tell them my story. I want them to make the best out of life and I am positive they will.
