The earliest memory I have of any kind of abuse was when i was 4 years old. I was in a day care for which my parents had sent me everyday while they worked long hours. There were 2 boys, I believe they were both around 7, but i knew they were older than me. These boys were also much bigger than me, but I was so nieve at that age and did not feel fear towards them, so when both of them proceeded to push me up against the wall and pull down my underware and fondle me my first responce was to fight back. I was in tears because I felt so hopeless, and i was undressed in a play ground which was filled with other children from ages 4-11. I never told anyone about this, and to this day I still dont understand why. The next time I remember being abused was when I was about 8 years old. I was in second grade. There was this black kid and he would physically abuse me, in class! Everyone would see it EXEPT the teacher, of course. This continued for about 3 months, then I would start breaking down every single day. I told my teacher, nothing was done, so my dad decided to tell the child's mother, and he never spoke to me again. Another black kid also used to hit me across the face, and try to trip me, and hurt me when I was in third grade. The only difference was that this child really scared me at that age. Thankfully, his seat was changed and I became friends with a girl named Jaycee*. We were very close, but she always ordered me around, and foolishly, I complied with her and did whatever she said. I was a very small girl compared to everyone else and I remember Jaycee* was much taller than me. She always used to hit me, and this would make me cry because it truly did hurt me. Eventually I moved to a different school which turned into hell. I just met horrible people and wasnt thinking correctly, or like an 8 year old should. Christmas came one year, but I cant remember if it was Christmas of 01' or 02'. Anyways, my sister and I were with my grandfatherwho was just a famliy friend, and were were playing a game with him in a different room than my parents and his wife. I only have flashbacks of me being on his lap while he proceeded to fondle me where no one should ever be touched at that age. I immediatley told my dad, but I was too scared to tell him the truth, so we continued to go there. I do have a feeling my father said something to him because it never happened again. I do not see them anymore. So after this everything went well until I stepped into seventh grade. I was in a class that I really loved and Im not exagerating, it had amazing people, exept for the black kid Jamaine* who had stayed back twice. In the beginning this really had no effect on me, honestly I didnt care that he was in my class, until my teacher placed him in the seat right beside me. Mind that I was 12, he was 14. He was flirting with me, but I denied him because I really did not like him, at the time I really liked another boy. This did not phase him, he continued to flirt with me, then he began to sexually harass me. He did it in a very sneaky way, he always tried to touch me in places that I didnt want to be touched. I mean, I was only 12 and very nieve. Jamaine* would always fondle me while I sat there helplessly. I felt as if there was nothing I could do about it, and apparently no one knew what was going on, which made me feel even more alone. When this stopped I was left alone for about a year and a half. My freshmen year started well, I had many friends, and I was getting really good grades! I met another boy in my Spanish class Tom* and he was quiet for the whole semester towards me. Finally when the end of the semester came, he began flirting with me, and I didnt like him because I felt as if I was in love with another boy Jason* for about 3 months. However Tom* managed to get me to a closed room that my school has, where he proceeded to sodomize me. He ejaculated all over my vagina, and I struggled to get out, I ran up the stairs for my life because I was extremley scared. I went to the nurse where then I told her I had a panic attack. I never spoke to Tom* again, and I pursued my relationship with Jason*. I really liked Jason* in every way, he was very attractive to me, and he made me laugh! This lasted for about 2 more month after my assult. After this Jason* started becoming extremley verbaly abusive to me. He would call me names like nasty bitch, slut, whore, dike, cunt, fat, ugly, and every other name you could think of to put a girl down. I stayed with Jason* because I was really falling in love with him. I lost almost all of my friends and I lost everything and more and more people began to despise me because of Jason*, they didnt despise him, just me. I couldnt understand why everyone hated me...I was being tortured by this kid, and they all still respected him, but HATED ME! I couldnt understand why this would happen to me because I truly cared for him and I did everything I could do for him because he was my life. I lived for him, and seriously I lived for Jason*. I could not picture my life without him at that point because we were inseperable, even though he continued to abuse me. It just kept getting worse throughout the months he began to emotionally abuse me, and phsyically abuse me. I tried desperatley to stay with him because he was all I had, and I was willing to take that abuse because I felt like he was my everything and I couldnt picture life without him. I did everything he told me to do, but this wasnt enough for him, and one day he just stopped talking to me and we never spoke again. To this day the students in my school still hate me because of Jason*. They blame me for everything that happened, trying to say that I made him like that because Im crazy and all this foolishness. It took me a while to get passed Jason*, but eventually I began talking to an older boy, Jake*. Jake* was 17 while I was 15. This intrigued me because i loved how he was mature, had a car, job, and he was on his way to adulthood! While i was only a sophmore and about to turn 16 we began dating. I wasnt mature enough to realize that I was just falling into another abusive relationship. I fell in love with him extremley quickly, and he felt the same. I seriously knew I was going to marry Jake*. He stopped going to school eventually and became homeschooled. I liked this because we had time apart, and he was also much less stressed. Work was also going very well for him, he was recieving raises and promotions. We are still together and have been for 9 months. He was no trust for me, and when he finds out that I always tell the truth he tells me that he thinks hes crazy. I know that Jake* is schitzofrenic and that he needs to be on meds, but he wont do it. Not for him, or me. We are working on our relationships, because of my past if I feel like he is intimidating me then I just fucking swing at him with absolutley no control. I try my best not to but when he abuses me in whatever way I just want to knock him out. Im on meds for my depression, PMDD, bi polar, and servere anxiety, so this is helping. I also went to a psych hospital for about 5 days, and met amazing people there, they really inspired me to do better with my life. Forever I will keep them in my heart. My father has been there for me throughout this in his own way and he is constantly trying to help me. I have very supportive people in my life, even if I dont have the love from students in my school, I know who I am, and that life lesson will keep me alive. God is always with me.