my name is kennan and i am a victim of sexual abuse.

i really did not want to start off my new blog with a downer post, but i have been trying to write this for over 6 months and i need to get it over with. 

you want real? here is real. 

 i don't remember much about my childhood at barratt elementary... most of the memories i do have are sad and foggy at best. no lifelong besties were made here, and the thought of even walking back into that school makes me physically ill. it was at barratt elementary that i learned how to read, write, and other basic learning needs. i also learned to things no child should ever learn. 

i did not excel in school, i got by. my teachers saw strength in me but i never lived up to their expectations. i did not have a lot of friends, and when i did the friendships never lasted long. i struggled with bullying, on both ends of the spectrum. i was tall, matured early and did not fit in (not to mention a little bit of a spoiled brat). i did whatever i could to not go to school. i came up with every excuse under the sun, some funny, some not so much. i hated elementary and i vividly remember my last day of 6th grade... it was the best day of my life.

it wasn't until i was 17 that i became fully aware of my sexual abuse. there were signs and symptoms all through out my childhood but as i grew older things became worse. in my early teenage years when boys came on to the scene, no one was more into having a boyfriend than me. my friends and i were boy crazy. in fact, some of the boys mom's called a meeting in 7th grade to protect their sons from these love struck girls. we started "pairing off" and phone calls were made, hands were held, and for some,kisses.  the trouble came for me as early has a hand hold. i remember feeling really nervous as soon as my beau set next to me, we played the hand inching closer game for 20 minutes and BOOM, my hand was held. right then and there, i was physically sick. i couldn't move, i felt like puking, and i just wanted to be home with my family. this continued on until i had my first kiss. let me just say, no one wanted a kiss more than me.

it was the summer between 8th and 9th grade and i found myself the perfect boy to lay my lips on, adam (real name). we had been "boyfriend/girlfriend" for a couple of weeks and our friends thought it was time for our lips to meet. we were alone in my friend nicole's basement, just listening to a little 'Better Than Ezra' and the time was right, adam leaned in and gave the kiss i had been waiting for. it was a typical first kiss, gooey, awkward, and short. but for me, it was more than that. it was a flashback, of something uncomfortable that i couldn't understand. as soon as it was over, i stood up, ran to the bathroom, and puked my guts out. i cried and was scared and knew i needed to pull myself together because all my girlfriends were going to want all the details and they wanted a smiling face. i waited a bit but eventually made it outside with everyone else and faked a smile. i never told anyone what it was really like. 

i kissed a handful of boys from then until i was 17, and every experience from then on out was the same. a kiss and then a mad dash to the toilet. eventually my friends found out about my little problem and it kind of became a joke. i was okay with it and figured it was heavenly fathers plan for keeping me worthy, also that maybe magically when mr. right came along i wouldn't puke anymore. that wouldn't be the case.

high school was a rough transition for me, my depression began to show its ugly little face and i had a lot of ups and downs. the love of my high school heart lead me down the road of disappointment and unrequited love, i was constantly reminded by him why i wasn't good enough for him. i kissed boys that didn't care about me and i didn't care about them. my friends were all busy with new found interests, loves, and freedom. i was trapped. i hated myself, my friends (who were my lifeblood), and i hated the fact that i never could be intimate with a boy without puking. i was an angry elf. shortly before my 17th birthday, after one too many bleach jobs on my hair, it began to fall out in clumps and it had to be shaved. talk about a self-esteem killer, no girl wants a shaved head at 17. that was the end the line for me. i wanted to die, i wanted to be done, and i knew i needed help. i walked into my moms room one evening and told her i needed help or i was going to hurt myself. being the amazing mom that she is, i was at my pediatricians, dr. glade's the next morning and 2 days later i was in a child psychologists office. i was finally going to get better and find out what really was going on.

it wasn't 30 minutes into my first therapy appointment that my psychologist realized that i was a victim of early childhood sexual abuse and was suffering from MDD (major depressive disorder) and anxiety. as soon she pointed out the possibility of sexual abuse, the memories came flooding back and i knew exactly when and where it happened, and who it was.

it all came down to barratt elementary, and dr. tom williams, the school psychologist.

i am not sure why i even met with tom.... tom, that is what everyone called him. i promise you that anyone that went to barratt in 1989 knows and remembers who "tom" is. {insert shivers down my spine} tom was well loved at the school, he loved the kids and the kids loved him. i remember feeling so special that he knew who i was. i remember his office, his desk, where he parked his car, how he smelled, the way his keys jingled in his pockets, his voice, his glasses, that he was a smoker, and the biggest thing i remember was a unwelcome familiarity. i remember feeling cold and alone. i remember just wanting to be back at home. i remember feeling guilty and feeling lucky at the same time. i remember him pulling me out of class with my friend emily stone (who has since passed). i remember him in kindergarten and first grade and i don't remember ever seeing or talking to him again until he left our school in 4th grade. i remember being sad he didn't tell me goodbye. i'm pretty sure my abuse was only in kindergarten and early first grade. i started getting sick a lot in 1st grade and my mom started prodding around as to why. i think that scared him off, but the damage was done.

that's it, that's all i could remember. i knew i didn't remember enough to prove anything, so i just stopped there. the child psychologist i was working with wanted to help me remember more, she wanted to put this creep in jail. she offered hypnosis, but i knew that my 6 year old mind had blocked this out for a reason (which BTW is very typical of sexual abuse victims prior to the age of 8). i didn't want to remember more. i just wanted to get better, and better i got.

i was put on anti-depressants and they literally saved my life. i went through about a year of counseling and became okay with who i was, and with being an abuse victim. at 17, i became the person you know now. i became me. shortly after my rebirth, i got a boyfriend who would change me. his name was matt (again, real name...) and he was wonderful. he worked and worked with me on being okay with who i was. matt was so patient with me while i worked through my "puking" issue. i learned coping mechanisms, like how i could initiate a kiss and i could be in control. together we walked the halls of barratt elementary so i could heal and let myself try to remember what went on there. i will always love him for helping me through this huge hurtle in my life, and for loving me in spite of my faults and abuse. like i said, this was the time that i became me, the real, happy me.

right before i graduated all of my memories and thoughts on tom became a reality. i remember distinctly coming home from school and my mom having this article on the kitchen counter. it was all true, he WAS a child molester. he was the bad guy that had ruined my childhood and taken away my innocence. it was both liberating and horrifying. my mom and i both cried... i should let her write sometime what its like being a parent of child who has been sexually abused. anyway, again, i didn't go forward to the police. i thought mine was probably an isolated incident at the school and my memories were still not enough (or at least i thought) to do anything and at least the bastard was going to jail.

the next few years in my life were wonderful... a breeze really. i was happy, i was loved, and i was free. i kept tabs on tom, i made sure he was still in jail, it made me feel safer but again, i kept this to myself and never came forward. one fall evening in 2002 my life changed when i met the man of my dreams, trevan. we fell madly in love and dated for 2 years, we grew up together, we traveled, and had the times of our lives. trevan knew about my abuse and intimacy issues but since i had worked through it earlier, he didn't have to "deal" with it. we got married in 2004 and again, the fingers of tom's abuse came to strangle me once again.

when i got married things went to shit. i went crazy and then to add fuel to the fire i got pregnant shortly their after. i could not cope and again was suicidal and inconsolable. there was something about the life change of marriage and then being pregnant with a son that threw me over the edge. i went through counselling once again with my favorite therapist to date, sally. she worked with me, and healed me and taught me how to settle myself down. sally worked with my on my "tom issues" and sally worked with my poor husband trevan on how to deal with his crazy wife. our sweet jude was born the fall of 2005 and he was just the medicine that we all needed.

fast forward to 2012... one sunday my mom was in sacrament meeting when my next door neighbor growing up, ben glade, got up to give a talk. in his talk he mentioned being sexually abused as a child by someone his family trusted and how it had affected his life. well, a light went off in my mom's head and she knew that ben's abuser was the same as mine. she talked to him after the meeting and sure enough, tom abused ben too. later on she called to tell me what she had found out. i was shocked. i could not wrap my mind around it and i didn't/couldn't deal with "tom issue" another time. it nearly kills me every time. so i waited...

i waited until i was ready, and that was this past summer. i finally contacted ben and told him my story and he told me his. there were far too many coincidences for it not to be true. we had both been abused and we knew that there was no way that were the only ones. we both had memories of other children being involved. we knew it was time to come forward. tom cannot get away with what he did to us, he thinks he did, and he didn't. we remember.

ben went to police with what he remembered and now there is an official investigation going on. you see, tom got out of prison early this year for "good behavior" and is now living among us. it literally scares me to death. there are so many children at risk, tom is a child psychologist and he knows his victims mind, he knows exactly what he is doing. i know there are more kids that went to barratt elementary that were abused, i am almost positive i know of a few personally. i am sure there are 100's of us victims. doesn't it make your blood boil?!?! i too have met with the police and given them my statement. luckily for us, there is no statute of limitations on this sort of stuff and hopefully, justice will be served. i am just happy know that finally i am doing something about this, and hopefully that more people will come forward so we can have a stronger case.

yet here i am writing this, acting strong, telling my truth and i am once again that innocent child, scared and afraid. i will never fully remember what happened to me in his office at that school. i am not sure if that is bad or good. i imagine the worse and hope that its not. what tom doesn't realize is that i am now a 30 year old woman, a wife, a mother of 3... i think he just thought we could forget. i wish i could. i wish that his damage to me didn't creep into almost every aspect of my life... marriage, parenting, trust, family, etc. every time i talk about this i throw myself into a downhill spiral, i am debilitated for a good day or two. i survive though... i have a wonderful support system, an adoring husband, and a testimony. i know someone who didn't have any of that and she didn't get to survive, or see justice served. 

my hope in writing this is that i can show that its okay to admit abuse and that i can heal myself with these words, they say the truth will set you free. i also hope that someone, somewhere reads this and has the strength to come forward about any abuse they may have experienced as child. even if they have spotty memos like me, things they aren't entirely sure of... come forward, it is never too late.

me and my siblings... my first day of kindergarten at barratt elementary

my name is kennan and i am victim of sexual abuse.

and i survive.

here some other links about tom if you are interested...

News Article

New Reel 

UPDATE:

i will be doing a follow up post to this to answer some questions i have received. questions regarding why i didn't tell my parents, warning signs, and how to protect your children.  hopefully, you will get my mom's perspective too. 

thank you, really, for your love and support. you will never know what it means to me.

xo