I was abused. By my biological parent. I was young, and it's been almost a decade since the time I reported everything. But, as I have seen with time, there was more than just childhood innocence lost.

I lost the entire family. You never asked me what happened, you never asked for my side, you never asked how you can repair your own relationship with me. You just vanished. Some of you tried to go around my mother to get to me, but it was all in the spirit of manipulation for more abuse to happen, just in a new way.

He might have touched me, but you all abandoned me. I grew to realize that protecting a brother or son is more important than trusting and believing a niece or granddaughter. That you have too much pride to just accept you have to speak to my mother to see me, to visit me, and you gave up. You were happy never watching me turn into an absolutely awesome person, with goals and passions, all of which I succeed in. You all left with him, made sure he never saw jail, and made sure he had a home all while I had to live without that part of my life.

I was abused. I called the police. You deserted me. I had to hear my mother come home crying from her divorce hearings because of the sick names you would spit at her, all because she had daughters to care for. I had to watch my sister cry as she realized he wasn't coming home, and all you could think about was how to sneak your way in to find a way to get my mother to cave.

For me to pretend it never happened. I can never just go to weddings and enjoy myself, the daddy-daughter dance just hurts, everytime. But that doesn't matter to all of you. What matters to you is what you tried to fight for, which was an abusive man to not spend a day behind bars.

I was abused. I was abused some more by high school boyfriends who said "I love you" like it tasted like candy in the same breath they said they would smack me around if I misbehaved. And I stayed, because the last time I stopped someone hurting me I lost so many people. I lost you.

I still can't breathe when a grown man is suddenly upset, but quiet about it. I still can't stop shaking when someone slams the door or drops a pan haphazardly on a stove. But you don't care. You never did.

But to just let you know, I am doing great. It's been nearly a decade, and all I have done in that time is make incredible strides. I can do everything I want except fly, but maybe someday I'll get my pilot's license. And it's without all of you, and especially without him.