Molestation is a kind of rape, but it tends to be categorized differently. Depending on the perpetrator, it is also one of the hardest abuses to overcome. The actual physical violation of molestation can cause sexual dysfunctions for a person’s entire life, but the real battle here is the mental abuse.

     I have already covered being cold, hungry, and uneducated. I was a prime target for a pedophile. We probably met when I was going door knocking looking for work. As most pedophiles are known for, he would give candy to the neighborhood kids, and candy is still food. He lured me in by offering me money to wash dishes or clean his house. Once inside, he had no interest in me doing any of those chores. The entry room was full of boxes to the extent that only a small path led to the next room. The next room, however, was wall-to-ceiling porn—every type and image imaginable. There was not a space left un-plastered with nudity and sex acts. Stacks and stacks of magazines covered the floor and furniture as well. Sex toys were scattered all over the room (I did not know what they were then).

     At first I would walk through the porn room to the kitchen where there were always a pile of dirty dishes. He would watch me wash dishes which I thought was creepy, but I needed the money for food. It wasn’t just me that was starving I had little siblings that were crying of hunger too. After a bit of just washing dishes he would ask if he could rub my shoulders or back. His hands would slip, then he would ask if it was ok if he touched me here or there – over my clothes of course. Even though he reassured me I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I still shouldn’t tell anyone.

     He started off slow, getting me used to touching, the nudity in the magazines, then male parts. Over time he said he would just pay me to sit there, and I didn’t have to do dishes anymore. He had me look at porn magazines and pointed out how the women liked it. He would rub himself and turn pages for me initially. Then moved to exposing and stroking himself in front of me. Once I got used to him being exposed, he would start asking me to take off my clothes. It was just a little at a time, nothing alarming at first. It moved from there to can he touch me, do I like it, what if he touched me there and like that—over time, it just became normal.

Some of you got sick to stomach reading the above. To be honest, I wanted to be more graphic, but I will refrain for those of you that have not lived through it. My situation was a bit different than many that I have heard. I went to his house on purpose, and I knew what would happen when I did. Me and my siblings were starving, and it was the only consistent way I knew to make money. For me, a primary issue to overcome was guilt. I knew what he was doing was wrong. He reminded me every time he touched me not to tell anyone, that this was our secret. As I grew older and learned more about the world, I thought I was a hooker, which added shame as well as guilt. Talking to other molestation survivors almost made things worse. Most of them did not have a choice. They were forced by what should have been a caregiver. For years, I would let them open up, but I would never share my story; the shame was that deep. In therapy, I reserved this for only the most trusted counselors. The molestation went on for years. I would take the money and buy bread, peanut butter, whatever a small child would consider food. It did not stop until we moved, so it continued for most of my elementary school years.

     Unlike several of my other traumas, these memories were not hidden from me. Logically, I understand that I was not in a “fight or flight”. I was hungry, cold, and beaten. As awful as it was safer than home. Hunger is a powerful motivator. Later when I sought professional help, counseling did not seem to do any good. To be honest, I thought it made things worse. These “educated advisors” would tell me things like it was my parent’s fault for not protecting me or feeding us. As the years passed, and I grew taller, it was hard for me to remember how small and helpless I was. It made it easier to just accept that I was a hooker, and I need to live with the guilt and shame.

     To feel shame for being molested by a pedophile is not a good way to live life. (He was later arrested, convicted, and imprisoned for molesting several small children.) It was easier to myself than to blame my parents. I kept it a secret, how could they have known? What would they have done if they had found out? If I had told, would they have stopped me from going? How would we eat? When you start dealing with these issues, you start dealing with anger. This is not the soft kind of anger either. It is the hard-to-your-core hate kind of anger.

     It is reasonable to accept that if a small child is molested, there is a grown up to blame. If this had happened to someone else, I could feel justified in being angry at their parents and the pedophile. When it happens to you, it is harder to deal with. The pedophile is, of course, ultimately to blame for being a sick bastard. To the best of my knowledge, he will die in prison. My problem through all of those years was that my siblings and I needed to eat. As mad as I could get at this man, I just as easily forgave him. I do not know how we would have survived those years if I had not provided at least little scraps of food here and there.

     We are now in the middle of the “Epstein Drama”. There is still a fight to release all of the documents, but what has come out is that he and his cronies preyed on girls that came from poverty. Girls that needed basic things like food, shelter, and one story was braces. The pedophile protecters say they should have talked to someone sooner – then some records were released – they did. Girls had been coming forward for years. The complaints were buried. The pedophiles had money and attorneys, no justice for victims only protection for the rich and powerful.

     Years after Epstein’s death, with the social and political backlash of his human trafficking the Tate brothers took over. These abusers even have records and instructions that after using, raping, and forcing girls into the sex industry that if the women try to leave, they should have nothing, not even their clothes. Like Epstein it’s public information, but justice is unlikely. Currently they are being held for extradition, with the hopes that the people that protected Epstein will protect them as well.

     Young boys suffer too. The lack of basic needs, make them just as susceptible to being victims of molestation. What seems to be gender neutral is the guilt. That didn’t stop it and even if they told they would somehow be in trouble. This logic has reinforcement.

     When I was younger we attended a church. I was told the story of a deacon in our church who was molesting the pastor’s daughters. When the paster found out, he knew something must be done. He had the deacon transferred to a different church and even had the church pay for the move. The pastor didn’t want the man’s “reputation” to be hurt if people found out. The girls were told to keep silent.

     I know of way too many stories not just that media has covered but people that have confided in me about how important it is that “we” as a society start talking about this. The blame game goes around that the victims should say something when they are experiencing it. Let me reassure you that often we do. In the Epstein file’s are countless reports filed about abuses that no one investigated. When we are small it is hard to articulate in a way “grown-up’s” will listen, when we are older people think we are making things up. It can be loose – loose situation for the victims.

     Not too long ago I was sitting on the couch with a cousin at a family get together when I overheard: _____ might be coming. I said “If ______ shows up, I’m out of here!” The cousin to my right gave me a sad smile and said: “Yah, he molested me too”. An aunt overheard and shook her head she responded “that _____ would never do that”. Yet two molestation victims of his were grown and sitting right there a few feet from her. I know of other girls in the family that were molested as well. As a survivor it’s heart breaking. You can tell and not be believed, you report to the authorities, and no one investigates. Even worse, the perpetrators are often protected by money and people with power.