Thirty Years Of Silence

At the tender age of sixteen, I am a shy, typical teenager living in southern California with my best friend, my mother. Shortly thereafter life as I know it ceases when she moves us to Houston, Texas, to join her future husband, Jake. Stepping off the plane in Houston on a sweltering June day in 1970, I am unaware of the horror that is awaiting me. I will not know myself again for thirty years.

Within months of living with Jake, he begins brutally raping me. An immense paralyzing fear engulfs me when he explains the terrible things that will happen to me if I tell anyone. This is compounded by my mother’s disbelief and discounting of my words as I struggle to tell her. I suffer the near death of my soul by a man my mother cherishes and chooses to marry.

I learn that I am pregnant when Jake secretly takes me to a doctor. In July of 1971, I give birth to my son, Adam, who gives me my only reason to continue living.

The immoral violence and traumatic incest continues until finally at the age of forty-six, a profound miracle transpires. It proves to be the catalyst for the chilling and dramatic end of my abuse. My long journey into recovery can now begin.