To add insult to injury, I had this all typed and lost it...so now, Im typing it again. I have never put this in writing. I have never typed this. I have only spoken it a time or 2, to people I was paying. Ever. When I was 13, I was raped by a boy who was 17. I'd really like to put his name here, but I don't think I should. NOthing was ever done about it. My parents knew. My mom was mortified. Locked herself in her room for weeks. My dad did his best to pretend it didn't happen. Meanwhile, even small town USA knew. The boy even bragged about it in the pool hall, which happened to be next door to the community theatre building, so I even saw him fairly frequently. He'd always wink and smile, and I'd just run away. At school, I got heckled about it. One day, I walked into the woodshop to pick up a project. We had routered signs with our last names on it. Another student asked to see mine, and from across the room, another student yelled "it says XXXXX XXXX!" (the name of the rapist). I lived in that community til I graduated from college and left. It was brought up off and on til I left by some folks that weren't so kind. I have always been ashamed. Classmates find me on facebook, and that's the first thing I think of if they were ones who heckled me or not. I recently accepted a friend request on facebook from the kid that yelled at me ini woodshop. Why, I don't know. My mom dealt with it by being absolutely repulsed by me. For weeks, she avoided me. Locked herself in her room. Oh, the shame I brought to her. She even asked me how she was supposed to go to work and face the community. My dad, he just went on. And me? After about 8 months, I went nuts and spent 4 months being a total difficult child. I'd met a boy who was older, and was nice to me and it was downhill from there. Of course, I was forbidden to see him, because "you know what boys do", but I snuck out to see him, anyway. He cared about me. Or so I thought. He cared right up til I called and told him I was pregnant. We were on a family camping trip. I stashed change for 3 days to get enough to call him on a payphone. I told him and he told me to "take care of it" and that was pretty much it. I think I called him twice more, and he made it clear, the problem was mine. Deal with it. He quit answering, so I quit calling. When it was obvious I was pregnant (which was about 7 months, by the way, I was very small), I had to tell my folks. I was mortified. My dad was raised Mennonite, and even tho he didn't practice, he was very old fashioned and strict. I feared he would kill me. I was also VERY afraid of the shame and guilt. If being raped had brought as much shame and guilt and pain as it had, how were people going to treat me if they knew I'd brought this on myself!??!?! So when I told my parents, I refused to say who the father was or where or anything else about it. I just clammed up and had a mystery baby. Mom holed up in her room. Dad? He could "stuff" a rape, but a baby? You can't hide from a baby in your house and pretend it doesn't exist. He was irate. Irate with me, irate with everything. The baby was born. Extended family helped raise him. My parents grew to love him and shed the stigma attached to this "*******" child. Even my dad, tho I must admit, I think him being the first grandson had a lot to do with that. You know him now as easy child 1. But I was always ashamed. I finished high school in that community. I went from being the girl that was raped to the girl that had a baby. I had friends, a couple of really close ones, but I never even told them the truth. easy child 1 was a huge part of our family growing up. Dad was very proud of him. He'd take him in his little farmer mud boots to the coffee shop when he was little, they'd drive the tractors together, etc...for the family, it turned out ok. Despite the rough start, things turned out ok, and easy child was very much an accepted part of the family. I would occassionally run into the father at the gas station or festivals, etc, but he never acknowledged me. Sometimes I would have easy child with me. Sometimes not. But never anything. Over the years, easy child occassionally asked about his father. I told him when he was old enough, I would tell him. And then I worried about how to tell a child their father was just down the road, but didn't want them? The last time easy child had asked was about 5 years ago. A year ago, a friend of my mom's called me. The father knew this guy was a friend of my mom's and knew me, and had asked this friend about easy child 1 and said some day he wanted to meet him. I acknowledged that yes, that was his kid, and that was it. I stewed about it...part of me was worried about dredging up the past. The other part of me was releived that I would have an answer for easy child when he asked again. I posted about it in PE. I think I used the name Heather. Everone told me to not say anything to easy child, so I didn't. And easy child never asked again. easy child texted me today. Father had contacted him via facebook. I was suprisingly ok with it. easy child didn't ask me much, and that's ok, too. I figure he will in time. Later, the aunt that helped raise easy child called me to see if I was ok. easy child had talked to her. I was glad about that. Until she said this man told easy child I had hidden easy child from him and he never knew about him. And then all the anger about everything just came rushing in. I did enough bad stuff, but I did NOT hide easy child from this man. He was a huge part of our life in a tiny community. My mom worked at the bank where father banked, she had pics of easy child on the wall. Granted, I never sent him a birth announcement, but come on...he made his position very clear...I told him I was pregnant, and 9 months later, I had a kid....a kid that grew up with us...a kid that never had a dad! There is not a soul in the world who can vouch for my side of the story. Not a soul. I don't even think I will attempt to "stand up" for myself unless easy child asks. But I am just...hurt. I try to do what's right, and it just seems that no matter what, it bites me in the ass. The whole BS thing with easy child/difficult child? Mom being all concerned about her getting sick too easy if she goes camping? She showed up today in shorts and a tshirt. High of 48. Low of 30. But I am the bad guy. Ran into DEX's whackjob girlfriend today. Wee stayed in the car while I paid for a card in the tiny store in town. She pulled into the parking lot and she and her daughter and 8 month old grandson went to my truck and opened the door to talk to Wee. Then I saw Wee on her phone. When I left the store and met her and her daughter in the parking lot, I said hi. The daughter said hi and that they'd spoken to Wee. I commented that the baby had grown, said he was cute, etc. WHen I said "see ya later", the daughter said bye. Whackjob never even acknowledged my presence. When I got in the truck, Wee said DEX was gonna buy him great birhtday presents. Whackjob had called DEX and let Wee talk to him because Wee "never gets to see or talk to him". Even if I WAS the reason DEX didn't see Wee, Wee has been at DEX's mom's house at least 4 times a week for the past 5 months. But no...I am the bad guy there, too. The Broom's pulled in my drive about 4:45. They parked in front of the barn to wait for husband. Didn't even acknowledge me in the drive working on my truck...just drove right past. I am the bad guy there, too. I don't even know how I feel about easy child and his father right now. I'm glad for easy child that questions will be answered. I really am. I'm glad I never have to tell him his father doesn't want him. I did plenty of things wrong in that situation, and I've paid dearly for them, but g*d d***it I did not hide easy child in the least. I'm not even sure why I'm posting this. I just feel like I need to say it. If you made it this far, thanks for listening. And for the rest of tonight, I don't give a **** what's right and what's not...I'm just gonna do whatever.