Sensational headlines about sexual offenses flood the news—major assaults, elder abuse, child molestation. As a case manager, I often support overwhelmed colleagues aiding victims' families, feeling the weight of these stories myself. Yet they stir deep personal memories: my own assault at age 5, which shattered my innocence, leaving me withdrawn and confused overnight.
It was a sweltering summer day. I was an innocent 5-year-old in a swimsuit, playing with my 10-year-old sister and a neighbor boy with malicious intent who seized his opportunity.
On a vacant lot behind our homes, he grabbed me by the arm to shield me from nettles, gripping so tightly the elastic of my swimsuit dug into my skin. Hesitant, I spoke up—only for him to ignore me and pull down my swimsuit. Panic surged, followed by blackout.
Next memory: my sister by the raspberry bush in the site's secluded corner, out of sight. She fended him off successfully.
Read also: You are a victim, not a slut!
Another flash: I'm frozen as he assaults me. Inside, I scream for it to stop, but I'm paralyzed. My sister begs me to leave with her; somehow, we escape—perhaps she convinced him to release me. Walking home in shock, I barely register her words. She helps pull up my swimsuit. Later, she urges, "Mom, Elsemiek has something to tell you…" But I stay silent, locking it away for years.
Two decades of therapy—intermittent but essential—helped me process it fully, feel the impacts on my life, release it, and embrace positives like excelling as a case manager and therapist. It took 20 years to rebuild trust. Triggers like media reports still resurface pain, but I've grown resilient.
As a survivor, it's a lifelong sentence, yet I stand firmer now, even when shaken. With love to lean on, I no longer carry it alone.
