My Story

September 8th, 2016 was like any other day. I crawled out of bed, still in my Cracker Barrel uniform from the night before, and managed my way to the coffee machine.

As the coffee was brewing, I turned the t.v. to my guilty pleasure, Pretty Little Liars, and borrowed my father’s laptop from his bedroom.

I grabbed my pumpkin spiced coffee, walked over to the couch, and opened his laptop. As the laptop was opening, all I heard was the Pretty Little Liars screaming, “RUN!” I looked up and stared nervously at the t.v. screen. At that moment, I wish I could have run. 

My whole body went numb. What did I just see on my father’s desktop? Who is this naked girl on the screen? She looks a lot like me. Wait, wait, wait…that is me. I was staring at a naked picture of myself on my father’s desktop. I have never felt more betrayed, confused, and heartbroken in my 25 years of life. “What the heck. What the heck. What the heck?” are the last words I remember saying before the rage took over my body. 

I woke up hysterically screaming and crying laying on my father’s closet floor.

As I laid on the floor, covered in my dad’s belongings, I took three deep breathes and reminded myself, “I am strong.” I said those words at least a hundred times before I had the courage to sit up and look around.

What did I just do? What is around me? I picked myself up, walked over to my father’s belongings, and started screaming, “WHY!!!!!”? 

I cannot explain the anger I felt towards

My father. I walked back over to my father’s laptop. My trembling fingers opened the laptop and I clicked on the naked picture. Everybody part was showing. My head was turned to the right side, completely oblivious of my surroundings. My brown medium length hair was drenching wet. I was holding a brown towel in my right hand, and my favorite yellow St. Louis Blues shirt in the other. How did I not notice this? How long has this been happening? When did he do this? Why did he do this? I slapped myself repeatedly in the face. This has to be a nightmare. Brittian, please wake up! Sadly, the nightmare had just begun. 

I wanted to make sure that was the only picture of me on his laptop. My curious mind began going through all of his files. As I was going through the video files on my father’s laptop, I noticed the same picture from his desktop. Why is this happening? Why? Just why? I clicked on the video file from February 23, 2015. I busted out in tears and kept repeating to myself, “I am strong. I am strong. I am strong.” My shaking hand started the video. The camera is upside down, in my brown bookcase, hiding in-between books. I walked into my room, completely unaware, locked and closed my door. I began drying my hair with the brown towel and studying myself in the mirror-like any girl. I put the brown towel down and open my drawer to get my favorite yellow St. Louis Blues t-shirt and sporty pink shorts.

Then the video ended. My own father cropped the “perfect” picture of me from a video he recorded and put it on his desktop? Why just why? How many more videos does he have? Does the videotape me constantly? Has he done anything while I am sleeping?

At that moment, all I knew is I needed to get the heck out of that house. I was afraid for my life and no longer safe. 

4 thoughts on “My Story

  1. I am so sorry you have had this experience. Thank you for the resilience to share your strength with others. You are worth whatever it takes to recover, to be safe, and to live your most abundant life!

    Liked by 1 person

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