Welcome to Tenna’s part of the world. I want to thank all who have taken the time to visit and read.

My name is Tenna, (pronounced Tina) and I am not a mental health professional. If you, the reader, are wondering how I could possibly be considered an expert on the subject of abuse, I am a survivor of childhood sexual, emotional, and physical abuse. I have been through the stages of victim, survivor, and now protector. The earliest incident of sexual abuse that I am aware of took place when I was eighteen months old. I know this to be true because my mother admitted to it having happened before she died. Her version of history stated I had made allegations against one of my cousins at that age and being the concerned, conscientious parent that she was, my mother proceeded to make sure "nothing had really happened." In fact, she bragged about her methods of investigation.

On the day in question, I was at my aunt’s home. My grandmother lived across the street and my mother, aunt and grandmother were all over there. At eighteen months of age, I left my aunts house, wandered a little way up and crossed, what was at the time, a busy street. I supposedly went in, crying hysterically and making evil comments about her family. To check things out, she undressed me, held me down on her lap while her sister and mother poked inside of me to see if I was still intact. I often wonder which was more traumatic for me at the time a cousin, ten years my elder, molesting me or the supposed exam I was given by the women.

It was determined I must be making up lies against my cousin and there was no reason for him not to continue babysitting me when we were visiting. My brother and I were adopted, so we were not considered true members of the family by many of the people on my mother’s side. In fact, I feel our own mother was one of the members of this group. In her mind, the needs of her family of origin, husband, neighbors, and friends, in that order, usually took precedence over her children. No action was ever taken against others for our protection or safety.

So many times, I will hear people asking why a certain child did not tell of his or her abuse. That it couldn’t have been all that traumatic or they would have spoken up. Some will even suggest the child enjoyed it and wanted the abuse to continue. This mentality makes my blood boil.

In my case, I did tell on more than one occasion. I remember a specific time when I was seven, where once again, I approached my mother concerning my cousin. This episode will forever be seared into my memory and is one of the reasons for so much of my resentment and anger towards her.

She was in the bathroom putting on makeup before hauling us all over to my aunt’s house. Fussing at me for not getting a move on, she finally erupted into anger and wanted to know just what was bothering me. I flat out told her I didn’t want to go to my aunt’s house. I started crying and told her again how my cousin was molesting me. How the last time we went, he kept trying to "stick his pee pee into mine."

It was at that moment she went ballistic. She started yelling and asking me how I could make up such evil lies about her family. Repeatedly telling me that I was sick and evil for suggesting such a thing. That she had nursed a viper that was trying to drive her insane. It was at this point that she grabbed her chest and started her heart attack routine. For those who remember the old show Sanford and Son, you get the idea. The only difference is, she was an expert in dealing out guilt and worry.

Finally, calming down enough, she asked my brother if he had ever had similar experiences with the cousin. Although his response was affirmative, nothing was ever done, nor was it ever spoken of again. Years later when I confronted her with the episode she originally said it did indeed happen but, two days later changed her mind. My brother, on the other hand remembers it the way I do.

We were repeatedly left in my cousin’s care after this and it wasn’t long after that, I was raped for the first time. I wrote a poem 'I Remember' that deals with this subject. It is a very graphic poem and any survivor who may go to read it needs to prepare themselves for the possibility of negative reactions. It is, without a doubt, a triggering piece.

Writing about the abuse seems to help. I use it as a form of therapy that doesn’t cost $75 an hour and it is my hope that other survivors reading my work will be helped at the same time. That is my desire for this column. To reach out and touch other survivors, letting them know they are not alone in their struggle towards a normal life.

Each case of sexual abuse, and the way a person copes with it, is different. Although there is no right or wrong way, there is one absolute. Childhood sexual abuse affects all aspects of the survivor’s life, from the people we marry to the types of careers we choose.