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If it happened to me... it can happen to anyone!

I’ve always loved being creative and I’ve begun exploring the many ways in which I can be a content creator and share my authentic voice!
What’s the point of this post?
It literally dawned on me today (after watching a phenomenal video by @randirossario on Instagram, “I’m a black girl, I’m not allowed”... click the pink title), that I need to explore this part of my life and all the many decisions that I’ve made as a result of what’s happened to me. 

 What I speak of is molesation!

@randirossario said rape happened to her… and she came from a good family! I too came from a good family… and that didn’t protect me from sexual deviants invading my space!
Last night when I had the regular conversation/check-in with my 11-year-old daughter, going through the motions of, “You know you can tell me anything… has anyone touched you?”… 
Well, from that, I really had to be transparent with myself! The more transparent I am with myself, the better I can be at advocating for my daughter and others! Check out my video!


Here I go…
~JacQuaye A. Payne
#InnerThoughts
#OutwardExpression
This is #QuayesPayne
_______________________________________________________________
Trascript of video and my story...

 I'm a woman of God, a mother, wife with two degrees and a career!

I consider myself an advocate for so many others who might not know how to speak up for themselves!


So do I look like someone who needs an advocate? A victim?
An overcomer? A survivor?


Do I look like someone who has held on to a particular secret for 25 years?


What am I referring to? I'll give you a hint:


Definition of molestation:

n. the crime of sexual acts with children up to the age of 18, including touching of private parts, exposure of genitalia, taking of pornographic pictures, rape, inducement of sexual acts with the molester or with other children and variations of these acts by pedophiles. Molestation also applies to incest by a relative with a minor family member and any unwanted sexual acts with adults short of rape.

Have any of those things happened to me?
YES!


How many times?
At least half a dozen times...

Did I ever speak up?
Not really!!!


Why?
Did I think I wouldn't be believed?


No, that wasn't it! I had a good support system
and knew I could talk to my loved ones!


Well, why did I never say anything?


Because of an ugly five letter word:

S-H-A-M-E!


I knew as early as 8 or 9 when these events took place
that they weren't supposed to happen…
that what was being done to me was wrong!!!

I even knew that it wasn't my fault when two male family members;
A teen and a man in his 30's
forced me (on several occasions) into sexual activities that
I DID NOT want to partake in!

Shame made me keep silent!

But as years passed,
something else did too!

What's that???


I'd known girls who had their virginity and childhood
ripped away from them at the hands of a predator!!!


Girls who had been traumatized from continual rape and molestation! 
Heck, I’d even overhead that my sister was raped!
It was never talked about to me (we grew up in different households).


I so desperately wanted to tell someone about
the guilt these violations left me feeling for years!

Why feelings of shame?

Because I felt like I should be in control of the situation…
I should be able to say “NO” and it be respected!

Why feelings of guilt?

If only I could of let go of personal shame in order to speak up- because maybe they were doing the same thing to someone else… maybe that person was younger… or maybe they actually had sex with the other person! 

And I continued to feel guilty for those who I didn’t know were impacted
by these males, because if only I would speak up… it could put a stop to these individuals!
(So I thought)

There was such a yearning in my soul to be vindicated of these
wrongs by these men who knew the power they had over me as a child!

The nerve and audacity of them knowing what they'd done,
yet knowing that I wouldn't say anything to anyone! So they
interacted with me as if everything was normal!


No matter how much I got good grades,
cheered, smiled, made honor roll and was a jokester,
I never could shake the feeling of guilt and shame…


And I reasoned within myself that because I was not
penetrated with a penis or object
to my vagina or other opening within my body...


And because I was only touched, humped, or fingers
rubbed over my genitalia
while my clothes were on…

That it wasn't as bad as other’s experiences!!!

As I got older, the Christian logic in me went like this:
“It was by the grace of God that I didn’t get raped…
Thank you Lord!”

So I repressed what had happened even more,
because “It could’ve been worse… right?”

And the loss of control (that I feel even in this very moment) as I tell my truth,
makes it all-the-more difficult to acknowledge that I have, by definition,
experienced molestation!

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