From Tracie: -11PM Supah's Story

Saturday, May 15, 2010

-11PM Supah's Story

What is a survivor?  I hear the word so much these days.  Many times attached to stories of  hideous battles fought with cancer.  Stories of those who have survived storms of mother natures wrath.   People who have endured hardship - and come out on top.  That's a survivor. 

It's funny though.

I never once thought of myself as a survivor.  

But I am. Most assuredly.  

When I was young I adored my Uncle Bobby.  Thought he was the coolest dude on the freaking planet.  He was only 4 or so years older than me.  We would spend a few weeks in the summer at my father's mother's house as my parents were divorced.  My dad was never around.  But my young uncle was. 

I was probably 7 or 8 when his wandering hands began  one night, what could have ended terribly if I hadn't the keen sense to know at such a young age, that he was not supposed to be touching me. 

I rolled off the bed with  a thud.  Pretended that it had been an accident  
I crawled away to  the safety of my own bed and he left me be.   Thank the Lord. 

I never told anyone until I was 25. I told my sister.   I am 35 now.
I had to see him at my wedding. 
Because I wasn't yet a survivor then..  Not strong enough to tell my father what his own brother had done  to me when we were young.  I was still 8 years old at age 26 and in my white gown surrounded by family and loved ones- I continued to be his victim.  I had to see his smarmy fat face on my special day. 

And I wanted to crawl for my life. 

At the same point in my life my mother, then divorced from my father, had a relationship with a man named Terry. I cringe saying his name now.  Typing those words on my keyboard, I must force myself so that I can share with you.   Terry was a pervert. He covertly abused me whenever he could.  IF you are not familiar with the term "covert" sexual abuse.. then I will tell you that  you do not have to be touched to be abused sexually.  Inappropriate actions, wearing shorts with no underwear, pornography materials abound :  this was his modus operandus.   One night  I had innocently fallen asleep on the couch.  Age 12 probably.  Terry decided it was time to watch a porno while I slept.  I woke up to the disgusting sounds of the television -  to the sounds of him saying the most disgusting vile things about me and a best friend of mine.  What we would do together. I remember the softness of the couch.  The ridges of the corduroy yellow fabric.    I remember holding my breath, much as I am now.  Frantic. Feeling the same urgency that I felt the night my Uncle let his hands stray.  I planned my escape in my head.  Ironically, as I had done several years before.  I continued to pretend I was asleep despite his vicious , vile taunts. I summoned every ounce of strength I had and launched myself off of that couch and ran to my mother's room before he could catch me, where she lay sleeping.  I was screaming at her - crying hysterically. 

She knew before I ever got out a cohesive word.  

Frightening huh?  On so many levels?   She knew.  That possibility was there.  
And yet kept us in that potential situation.   I struggle with this today.  However she saved my life , I am confident...because we moved out.  She took every ounce of money that she had and bought a house for us.  My life was screwed up from those moments on, despite this. 

I've battled myself for years trying to come to grips.  Trying to decide where my story "fits" on the shelf of sexual abuse.  I was barely surviving for many years.  Emotionally acting out the incidents of my past that seeped toxic waste into my innocent young life.  It ruined years of my life.  Years. Trust issues, body image issues, self esteem - ruined. 

I was nowhere near surviving.  I was barely breathing through much of my high school and college life. 

It was not until I had children myself that I became a  true survivor.   My children would need a mother that was healed. 

A mother that wasn't in shambles.  I finally understood that those incidents did not define me.  I wouldn't allow it. It was in my hands. 

My life was not going to be ruined one moment further by their actions.  I vowed to protect my children at all costs and to protect my future from there forward.  My future was intertwined so greatly with my own children's that I could not carry on the way I had been, without seeping that toxic waste into their own innocent lives.  It was not an option.

It was then, that I began surviving.

They are mere moments in an endless spectrum of time.  Mere moments. I barrel on full force, for myself, for my husband and most of all, for my children. 

Love to all of you survivors.  Barrel on full force. 



  1. Wow, definitely a survivor.

  2. (((hugs)))

    strongest woman I know

    besides my Gram Parrish who could kick your ass and not miss a puff on her Virginia Slim Menthol.

    Love my Supah... like my Gram