Don’t Send Your Kids to Sleepovers
A story of child sexual abuse
I had a huge family growing up.
Lots of cousins, uncles and aunties. My dad had 3 brothers and they all lived close by. I was incredibly close to my cousins. Loved them with all my heart.
We’d play cricket in the park, go horseback riding on the farm and cycle around our street.
Weekends meant chilling around at each others’ houses, playing board games and just running around as kids do. Life was all roses and sunlight.
Festivals are huge in my country, and every time we celebrated, we never wanted the fun to end. I’d beg my mom to let me go to my cousins’ for a sleepover. Everyone’s going to be there I’d say. Why do I only have to stay back alone?
Finally, after pleading with my dad to reason with her and making my best puppy dog eyes, sometimes even crying because what else does a little girl want except to play with her brothers, my mom would agree. Begrudgingly.
I never understood it. My uncles and aunties made fun of her in front of me. I felt bad, why is my mom the odd one out? Everyone else in the family is so close. Why don’t they like her?
She was different from the values they had created. While all the other wives stayed home to take care of the house and the kids, she went to work to help the underprivileged. She worked as a doctor with the government to treat the poor. I was always proud of her.
She told me a devastating story recently after a glass of wine at one of my favourite restaurants. As we sat down at the table, I took the chair so she could have the sofa booth. I noticed she was lost in thought. I asked her, what’s up? Why’re you always so lost?
She shrugged it off, a devastating smile on her face and said it was nothing. She said sometimes her memories are stronger than the present moment. She keeps remembering Dad. He passed away a few years ago.
I nudged her, what were you thinking of?
I always get to hear an interesting story when this happens. Albeit, this time, it was to be a heartbreaking one.
The adults had gone to dinner, she said. It was a table similar to this one. As they all sat down, the ladies took the sofas while the men took the chairs. Before she could make herself comfortable, Dad pulled out a chair for her. She took it unquestioningly but asked him later, why’d you do that?
He said the women of the family are given comfort because they take care of the household. Of the kids. But she went off to work like a man, so she should accept that she’ll be treated like a man.
It’s heartbreaking to learn that your dad was kind of an asshole. Especially when he’s not around anymore. You long for him and wish there was someone to protect you but you can’t help hating him at the same time too.
But the truth is, my mom has always been my protector.
Remember those sleepovers? Turns out she had a good reason to stop me, and I wish I had listened.
I was at one of these ‘fun’ sleepovers when my mom got a call at midnight, “Khushi’s dress has gotten dirty. Bring a new one.”
That wouldn’t be a problem. The family lived only a few houses away. A 5-minute walk at best.
She thought I’d probably spilt food on it. I was always a messy eater. It’s not like kids snacking well past midnight and watching movies at sleepovers is unusual. She packed a set of pyjamas but before she could leave the house my aunty brought me home herself.
I was beyond myself. Wouldn’t stop crying. And on my dress, between my legs was a patch of blood.
I always found it strange that I didn’t bleed when I lost my virginity to my boyfriend. Turns out it was taken from me long before I could begin to understand what sex was.
Finding this out as an adult shattered my inner child into a million pieces. I didn’t know how to feel. I didn’t remember it. But I had always had nightmares of being touched inappropriately as a child. It finally made sense.
I resented my mom for a bit. Why was she not stricter? I couldn’t protect myself as a child, it was her responsibility to protect me. Why didn’t she?
But she was surrounded by a family who tortured her emotionally. My dad didn’t stand up for her. She did the best she could.
Child sexual abuse is a stark reality. Research found about 1 in 4 girls and 1 in 13 boys in the United States experience child sexual abuse. More shockingly, 91% of child sexual abuse is perpetrated by someone known and trusted by the child or the child’s family members. These numbers only reflect reported abuse, thus the true impact is likely far more troubling.
So while I work on healing my inner child, protect yours?
