I had no fight left in me. Mentally and physically, I was drained. So, for now, Jack had won. I was an empty shell. I avoided conflict or discussion.

Everything I did was fake, an act, not because I was naturally or deliberately deceitful, but as a result of the years of abuse and rape. I had not been able to form my own personality or identity, and, because my childhood had been cruelly taken from me, I didn't know how I should react to certain situations, especially those where someone was showing me genuine kindness. I always believed that there would be some price to pay or a sexual act to be commited.

I was never taught how to love, the meaning of love, the value of trust, friendships and relationships or family values. Instead, I was taught not to trust or confide in others, since they wouldn't believe anything I said, and that evverything in life came at a cost, even love and compassion.

It's difficult to describe how terrible and disgusting being rasped can make you feel. The vulnerability, guilt, fear, lack of self-esteem and confidence are feelings that merge with the recollections of what happened. The shame I felt could never be recounted in words. It was absolute devastation, and no amount of talk, help or counselling will ever eradicate the feeling of self-disgust.