Desiree's Story

May, 2007
When I was 13 years old, I called my biological father on the phone. It was the first time I had ever really called him and I hadn't seen him for a year. I had had my last name changed only months before - I didn't want to carry his name anymore because to me it felt like a scarlet letter, a badge of shame. I called him on the phone to beg him - one last time - to allow my Daddy, the man who I'd come to see as my father, to adopt me. Being the controlling, belligerent, and evil man that he is, my biological father denied the plea. I got off the phone with him and broke down in tears, horrified and fearful of what I had been realizing over the previous few months. I told my Mom and Daddy that my biological father sexually abused me from the time I was a toddler to the last time I had seen him, a year prior.

About ten years of abuse, shame, and fear flooded out of me that day as I told my parents. I knew they would allow me the freedom to cry, and cry I did. I knew that even though they had no silver bullets to make my problems go away, they were there for me. I told them we needed to take legal action because my biological father wouldn't go down without a fight. It took plenty of searching and sleepless nights, but I found an attorney who only asked for $1,000 traveling expenses. We had been financially strained from all previous legal expenses and lawyers, so I had to borrow the money - from my grandparents - in order to have an attorney who would take on our case of seemingly endless legal battles. Thousands of postcards were sent out - my mom bought books with celebrity addresses, and I wrote out the addresses to eight, nine, ten hundred celebrities.

I wrote a petition addressed to the judge who sentenced me to visitation with my predator - despite my pleas over the years of not liking him, and the records showing I had medical issues caused by stress. So in the petition I declared that I wanted him (and every other corrupt judge was my intent) not to judge child custody court cases. Because it was not just my case that involved children being forced to face their predators. There are six families - The Alexandria Six - that have had to face him. And I am the only one who has gotten away. The rest have to see their predators and are still being subjected to abuse. So with that petition I wrote a declaration to the courts where I wrote exactly what my predator did to me. That process was emotionally cathartic for me because I could finally get it all out.

I refused to go back there. CPS came to investigate the case because I told my therapist (who I had seen from the time I was nine) about the abuse and she had to tell the state as she is a mandated reporter. It was her duty to report such abuse so that the best interests of the child could be attended to. I told the CPS workers that they would have to drug me, or I'd go kicking, screaming, biting...whatever it took to NOT go back there. I was afraid of what he'd do to me - especially since I was growing into a teenager. But more than anything, I was indignant that I had to put up with him for so long. I guess they took me seriously - California CPS said that I was definitely abused, but that they could not get tangible evidence because time had elapsed since I had seen the predator last. That night when he refused to allow the adoption, I had made up my mind that I was not going to see him again. My parents understood the risk they were taking by not sending me, but I was obstinate. That is sometimes a good quality - they knew they couldn't make me do something I didn't want to do.

Finishing up my eighth grade with MY legal battle taking roots was as much exhilarating as it was stressful. I felt glad that I was finally reaching an age where I could be taken seriously, but I was worried that my parents would be punished for my obstinacy. I was worried that I'd enter high school still carrying the badge of shame - my past. I knew I had my parents by my side, but I still felt inadequate because I had had a breakdown the year before and I hadn't quite recovered from it. As I approached my 14th birthday and high school, I reflected on the summer I turned 13, the summer everything had changed for me. That summer I had to see my predator. I refused to go alone, so my parents and I took our camping trailer across the country to Virginia so I could have my Hell on Earth. When we got there, my biological father informed us that he could not take me because he was in between jobs, and therefore financially inadequate to take a teenager for five weeks. He asked if we could wait three weeks. Well, we had no choice because I was court ordered to be there. But my body disagreed. Within a week my body had deteriorated as I lost twenty pounds from constantly throwing up. I was grinding my teeth at night and I needed medical attention but no doctors could help me in Virginia. We HAD to get home.

My health was still trying to stabilize as I entered eighth grade. When I started that school year, I had vowed never to see my biological father again. Months later,and I plead for an adoption, to FINALLY get away from him, I only confirmed that vow. I thought I was freed from my predator by making such a vow. But as with most things, we are never truly free from our pasts. I was interviewed for CosmoGirl! Magazine in November 2004, and I was able to get the word out. At the time I was in the tenth grade and high school had been a bit bumpy - growing teenagers and constant academic competition had rendered high school a hormonal melding pot, as with most teenagers. But the article made four or five girls approach me within those high school walls and tell me that my story had touched them, and one or two even told me that the article encouraged them to speak up about abuse that had happened to them. And in my freshman year I got an internet radio show where I speak about teen issues, and now my mom does the show with me. We speak about anything that might concern a teenager - from abuse and drugs to growing up and maturing. We hope that every week we can help even one teenager.

But as I said, we can never truly escape our pasts. This July (2007) I turn eighteen. Only then will I be truly freed from my obligation to the man who abused me. But my battle will not stop. It can't. There are still plenty of children who are not free, and only when they, too, are free will my fight stop.

Desiree Nelson
written at age 19
www.teentalknetwork.com
"Words from the Heart and Soul"

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