I was only eight.
I had to babysit my little brother and sister almost everyday after school so that my mom could go to work so that we could keep our house.
I was getting very little sleep. getting stressed out because my little sister was hungry and I didn't know how to cook. getting mad because my little brother would constantly throw fits because he didn't want to go to bed yet.
I would practically kill just to go to bed at a normal time during the school nights.
but I couldn't.
When I was ten,
i noticed that i had filled out quicker than all of the other girls in my grades.
my hips were wide, and my chest was large.
i hated it.
but the boys loved it.
they would laugh as i couldn't wear dresses anymore because they would look under my dress if i was standing up or playing with my friends.
but it got brushed off as them just playing around.
When I was twelve,
a boy sexually harassed me.
nothing was done.
because it wasn't taken seriously.
because "he was just playing around!"
when i was thirteen,
i got admitted into a hospital for eating disorders.
anorexia was what took over my life for a whole year.
it ruined me.
it ruined my body.
it ruined everything.
but i recovered.
i became okay again.
when i was fourteen,
my step-dad got more physical around me,
slapping my butt, pushing me around,
hitting me when he is able to, and so on.
but he said he was just playing around.
but that's what the girl who bullied me into starving myself said.
that's what the boy who harassed me said.
that's what my little brother said when he wasn't listening.
that's what everyone says.
and not one of them is telling the truth.
i have been abused my entire life,
and it needs to stop.
because this "playing around" isn't always just a joke.
