My mother ambushed me yesterday by coming to my house after I outed the family pedophiles

I am still kinda reeling from this?

A few days ago, I published my autobiography. I outed all the pedophiles in my family, and told my entire story. Every part of what I remember.

My family is pissed at me. Claiming I’m traumatizing them by telling what happened to me.

My mom said the words, “Every family has issues.”

Yes, but not every family has a tradition of every girl in the family being raped by 4 years old by SOMEONE IN THE FAMILY.

Our family does.

There was so much sexual abuse in our family that the kids thought sex was normal. They’d act out against each other all the time, and it was brushed off as kids being kids.

It was acted out by us because we grew up in a family that had normalized child rape.

My mother claims she didn’t. But if she didn’t, she never, ever would’ve taken us around that family to begin with. She pretends that everything was fine and she did everything she could to protect us.

Maybe.

But if that was true, if you really tried to protect us, why did you give your two oldest daughters to the woman who turned you into a victim first?

Why did you abandon them to the woman who was KNOWN to sell kids to pedophiles?

You did.

You can’t claim that you didn’t.

My sisters claim that I’m the golden child, but neither of them was around me much when I grew up. They lived in that house, with that woman, and I lived alone.

I was raped repeatedly by family members from diapers up to 18 years old.

But she tells me that I don’t need therapy. Why should I need to talk about MY story when nobody else who went through what they went through wants to?

Because it’s MY STORY. It’s what happened to ME.

But she claims that my telling my story, I’m traumatizing our family. I’m revealing family secrets.

If your family secret is the dozens of little girls that were RAPED in the family, BY FAMILY MEMBERS, I’m sorry, but it deserves to be revealed.

I believe fully that we cannot heal what we hide. Dismissing or denying the past is how you end up repeating it.

And I’m WATCHING IT REPEAT with my sisters. Again and again and again and again.

We are stuck in such a toxic trauma loop. Sweeping it under the rug does NOTHING but allow the abusers to continue to hide and the children to live in shame.

I never got justice for what happened to me as a child.

None of the men who raped me ever saw a day in jail FOR WHAT THEY DID TO ME.

Beaver went to jail for 2 years, for what he did to my sisters.

I was never included in that, because it’s been denied again and again and again that I was ever involved.

If I wasn’t involved, why do I remember the way his c*m tastes, Mother?

If I wasn’t involved, why do I remember sneaking down that squeaky staircase that day, Mother?

If I wasn’t involved, why can I replay his voice, saying, “Don’t wipe,” over and over, Mother?

If I wasn’t involved, why do I remember what it felt like to squeeze his dick between my teeth, the way he liked it, Mother?

If I wasn’t involved, why do I still have nightmares about him, or ANY man, between my thighs?

My cousin overheard something that was said by a different family member. She said she didn’t know how I knew so much, or remembered so much, if I didn’t experience those things.

Maybe the fact that I DO know these things, and now you KNOW I know these things, should be proof enough that it DID happen to me?

My sister told me to not out her “dad” as a pedophile out of respect for her.

My mom’s pissed I didn’t listen.

Why should I protect the identity of the man who molested me?

Why should a victim protect her abuser?

I refuse.

What happened to me HAPPENED, and I am SO TIRED of being told to shut up about it.