I am finally ready to share my story.

First, I want to take a moment out of this article to address Anthony Rapp: I am proud that you found a voice, regardless of how long it took you. I know you may not read this, but I do applaud your courage to not let this go unnoticed.

Kevin Spacey acted irresponsibly and blamed his inebriated state as an excuse. I am disappointed by this because even his apology was very backhanded using vocabulary such as “I am sorry for the feelings he describes having carried these years.” This makes it seem like actor Anthony Rapp is, on some level, making all of this up. Pedophilia is something that makes me lose respect for anyone, regardless of how much they apologize, especially when it sounds so insincere. I also find it appalling how he used this as his coming out platform as if to justify his behavior and cover up these harsh accusations.

Candidly speaking, I didn't know how to begin my story, because how do you tell the world "Hey, I was sexually abused"? The truth is, many victims don't. I have never had to share this story with anyone outside my immediate family because my family made sure to stand by my side. They provided counseling, therapy, and they have all respected my story.

I was about five years old, and I remember my parents being involved in the community; they always had a meal to share, a roof, and they simply gave people a second chance. They met this young man who had a troubled past and befriended him. For months, he grew close to my parents, and together they made sure he felt invited, not only into their home, but also into the community. I learned to trust him like family and I had no doubts that this man was trustworthy.

One day, my family went out to visit a family friend in the hospital. Since we were young children, my brother and I were not allowed to enter so we waited. The young man stayed behind to keep an eye on us. At first, I was just playing with my brother, who was six at the time, and we were having fun, giggling at the funny things we said. We went up to a large window that had this beautiful view of the Downtown Houston area and we just sat and stared, not knowing what would happen next.

He came and sat between my brother and me, and, as I was pressed against the window, he pretended to hold me as if I was going to fall over into the street. That's when he put his hands up my dress.

I completely froze, and this disgusting feeling came over me, I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I remember wishing I would actually fall into the street. As he touched me without regard of how his actions would impact my life, he pretended that it was a game so my brother wouldn't see, but, thankfully, our parents had taught us what was a game and what was not.

My hero that day was my brother because as soon as his brain could comprehend what was happening, he did everything in his power to make him stop. When my mother finally came out I was prepared to not ever speak about what had happened because I was ashamed, and then, out of nowhere, I got a voice.

I didn't say anything, but my brother refused to stay quiet. He told my mother what their "friend" had done, and all I remember is my mother being mad. At the time, I thought she was angry at my brother and me, but when I got older and asked her, she told me that she was mad that she trusted someone like him. She was mad at him, and she was also mad because she didn't know how to handle the situation. After that day, I never had to see him again. I don't really remember what followed but when I got older I asked my mother.

She said that when we arrived home that day, she told my father what happened. He was enraged because they had trusted the young man and this was how he had repaid them. They said that I would cry at night and ask "why did he do this?"

I'll never know why he did what he did, but I know that my family was the reason I overcame that experience. My brother gave me a voice, my parents asked questions to make sure I was speaking about it, they took me to therapy, family therapy, and even prayed over me. They would have taken legal action, but I wasn't ready and they knew that; they still made sure I was okay.

I left so much out because these are things I still don't want to talk about with anyone other than my support system, and I hope many other victims have the courage to at least tell one other person who will give them a voice.

The thing is that sharing a sexual abuse story isn't easy. It is exposing not only your abuser, but also yourself. I feel for those victims that haven't found a voice and are suffering in silence, for those men or women who've had their story shared without permission, for those victims whom no one believes, and for all those that are still healing.

As for me? I'll be fine. I have learned to live with that part of me because it wasn't my fault; I was only five years old, I was living my life as a happy child, and then this monster came to disrupt it. I still cry when I see abuse in a TV show, a movie, or even hear a story about it, because going through it and knowing exactly what that person is feeling is such a raw emotion; seeing the helplessness in their eyes, the silence during that horrific act, and the emotional baggage afterwards is so strong. Someone with bad intentions will act upon those intentions regardless of how the victim is dressed, their age, if they are sober or not, or whatever; evil will act regardless, but we have to be ready to stop it.

I was able to forgive my abuser because of my family. Not only did they provide family therapy, private therapy, and a strong unit, but also because my parents acknowledged that this was a lifelong healing process. I remember my parents spending days with my brother and me; they played with us, took us out to eat, and always asked if I remembered and if I was doing ok. This played an enormous role in my life because these moments helped me realize that, if I ever needed anyone, I had someone who would listen.

As I said before, I left so much out because I am still not ready to share that with anyone, but I do know that my family is on my side.

To everyone that has gone through some form of sexual abuse: Focus on healing yourself regardless of how long that may take, acknowledge that what happened to you isn't your fault, forgive yourself and others, find someone you can speak to, and, most importantly, be there for someone who may have suffered through the same situation.

Sexual abuse, harassment, assault, and any other form of abuse is not fine, and please don't be afraid to find a support system to bring you through it. If you ever need help, go to onlywithconsent.org or call the following numbers for help:

National Sexual Violence Resource Center Hotline - 1-877-739-3895

Rape Abuse Incest National Network (RAINN) National Sexual Assault Hotline - 1-800-656-HOPE (4673)

Safe Helpline for Sexual Assault Support for the DoD (Department of Defense) Community - 1-877-995-5247

For anyone who is still wondering what happened to my abuser: He went to jail on some very heavy charges a year later. It seems that he was doing other illegal things and justice finally caught up with him. I know that God gave me justice because my family and I didn't have to worry about a whole legal battle, yet he still ended up in prison for 20+ years.