(WIDK by Staff Writer STACY SUTPHEN) – Child abuse comes in many forms, and it’s not always a stranger you need to worry about. Meet Ariel S, her letter will move you to tears and hopefully open your eyes to the horror so many children live with on a daily basis. This is why raising child abuse awareness is extremely important.

Child Abuse Prevention Advocate and WIDK Staff Writer Stacy Sutphen
“The minute you abuse a child you are condemning them to a life sentence. “ – Ariel S
“Dear Stacy and WIDK,
Just writing this letter is in a sense is overwhelming, and the thought of sending it terrifies me. Growing up in a small town it seemed that everyone knew everyone else’s business. To think if they only knew what I suffered on an “almost” daily basis.
Both of my parents worked at a factory, working long hours to provide a life for my brother, sister, and myself. My parents were loving, and they took great care of us. We struggled finically at times, one of the reasons I couldn’t go to daycare.
Instead they entrusted me to my grandfather, he was retired and loved to watch me. He never asked for money and would take me any time. To this day they still hold him in high respect. I was about four when he started watching me, at least from what little I remember.
And that’s when he starting to sexually abuse me. I remember very little and until I was thirteen I didn’t remember it at all.
And that’s when he starting to sexually abuse me. I remember very little and until I was thirteen I didn’t remember it at all. I remember crying and feeling ashamed, mostly I remember pain. I remember how sometimes he would make excuses to have me over when my grandmother was gone.
My brother, who is nine years older than me, and my sister—six years older than me, never spent half as much time with him as I did. My grandfather owned the house we lived in. He always told me not to tell because we would lose our home.
My parents always did the best they could to support us, and I don’t know if I thought I was helping or if just being so young I thought it was ok, but I never told. For five years almost daily he watched me. He would tell me when I was older he wanted to have a baby with me. By this time I had accepted him molesting me as a “normal” routine.
The pain soon left, I felt none anymore, not shame or sad. My mind would completely go blank and I would disappear mentally. I kept silent and soon I began to ignore any advances he made in private and the looks that use to make me cry no longer bothered me.
I was a shell of a person, as people say. I will not go into details of the abuse, I have been dealing with this for almost eight years, and to this day I can’t tell anyone the act committed against me. Not even my husband who I confide in whole-heartedly.
One day when I was nine or ten, I believe it was spring or summer; my sister came to get me because I had been gone all day. At my grandfathers we never knocked, just walked in. He was abusing me. But luckily for him, I stopped her in the hallway and started to leave. She asked why I looked scared and upset. My mind will not let me hear my response to her.
But I remember her grabbing my hand and taking me home, I remember crying in her bed. My father and mother went to talk to him. He lied and said that I had seen him in the shower and must have gotten the wrong idea. When they asked me if it was the truth, I agreed. I don’t know why. Maybe I was scared. Maybe I was confused.
I know I should have said something, but I loved my dad and that was his father, I couldn’t hurt my dad like that. And after that the memory of the abuse had slipped away into the deepest and darkest corners of my mind.
I didn’t remember it again until the next traumatic event involving my grandfather. He got lung cancer, and soon it spread. It was rapidly consuming him and within six months he went from a man who was full of life and weighed about 275 to being bed ridden and barely weight 100 lbs. He looked so defenseless.
Within that six month I started having flashbacks, and soon after they started I knew what he had done. On May 26th 2003, he took a turn for the worst, my father went over to be with my grandma, and we all got some time alone to say good-bye. He was in a coma type state but the doctor said he could hear us.
I leaned down to his ear and said, “I know what you did to me, and I hope you burn in hell.”
I leaned down to his ear and said, “I know what you did to me, and I hope you burn in hell.” About twenty minutes later I watched him die, and I was happy. I enjoyed watching him die. I know that’s sick, and wrong, but it’s true.
After his funeral I swore I would keep the abuse secret from my father and grandma— grandfather has passed no need to damage his memory. My teen years were full of eating disorders, drugs, alcohol, and suicide attempts. I cut myself, I wrote poetry about dying.
The abuse had consumed me again, and now I only felt sadness. Although, I told a few of my closest friends, and my husband, I have kept the majority of the abuse a secret. I have not sought therapy or mental help beyond the fact my doctor had me committed after having my son for attempting suicide.
I spent five days in a mental health facility; I couldn’t see my son for his safety. It was horrible. I went to group therapy for a while, but it was full of housewives who had gotten DUI’s and HAD to be there. I wanted to talk to someone about something that meant something to me. Not about how not to drive drunk.
Only a few months ago I broke down and told my mother about the abuse, and I made her swear to NEVER tell my father. To this day I flash back; I go weeks where my husband can’t touch me without me crying. I won’t leave my son alone with anyone, and I hover over him. Every time I see a grandfather with a little girl, I break down.
When he molested me, he didn’t only take my innocence he took my happiness.
I’m twenty years old with a family. I have a wonderful life and I should be able to enjoy it. When he molested me, he didn’t only take my innocence he took my happiness. The thing people need to understand is abuse casts a shadow over your whole life. The minute you abuse a child you are condemning them to a life sentence. Now I’m working through a few different Child Advocacy Groups. Thank you for listening. “
Stacy Asencio-Sutphen is co-founder of Stop Abusing Your Children, an organization committed to raising child abuse awareness in communities by holding rallies, organizing fundraisers, launching a national “Stop Abusing Your Children!” campaign and producing public service announcements. Its mission is to encourage people to stand up against child abuse by reporting child abuse and saving a child’s life. Founded by Jeff Sutphen (host of Nickelodeon’s hit game show “BrainSurge” and ABC’s “101 Ways To Leave A Game Show”) and his wife Stacy Sutphen (Actress and Staff Writer for Wish I Didn’t Know).
{ 2 comments }



