At age 9 the baby sitter sexually abused me. She was a welfare girl that our headmaster took in to,help,he and his wife manage their new twin babies. She was 16 but had been sexually active with a boy in my class. She made me swear not to tell or she’d not be my friend and I was a lonely and isolated bullying victim at the school. When I was 15 I was babysitting at a neighbouring farm when their hitchhiker guest verbally attacked then assaulted and abused me, pretending it was a game. He was an American marine and so when the householder tired of the noise, warned the yank my father would come for him he was gone when I woke up in the morning.
At 17 I was at a party unbeknown to me, I was set up by a co worker to be her ex boyfriends new heifer for the night. He focused all his attention on me and I felt uncomfortable. I suspected he’d put something into my glass and he tried to get me drunk. I wanted to go home but had no transport and had promised nanna I wouldn’t risk being a car crash victim.
When he caught me discarding his grog he became aggressive. I wanted to go home but had promised my nanna I wouldn’t go out on the roads with all the spates of fatal car crashes in the district so had only agreed to attend the party on the grounds my co workers mum had a bed for me in their house where the party was.
The thug both tortured and sang romantic songs to me all night, to try and force my legs open. Then he broke my nose but I fought him off and made myself vomit to get him off me and feign a crying attack to escape him. No one rescued me and a friend present asked if I was ok but I couldn’t tell him as the abuser threatened to “kill that skinny pakeha” if I told him. So with the full knowledge and permission of the host, the bully coerced me until daybreak when he left. He left after convincing me he’d shoot me and my family members if I told anyone and I was afraid my father would take me back to again be his unpaid servant at the farm.
The attacker was a jailbird and ex maori gang member and of jake the muss character. I found out I was to be “blocked” but he’d wanted me all to himself because he was black and I was the whitest woman who ever talked to him. Also the his associates were afraid of him, as was I.
I carried the broken nose untreated for decades, suffering the feelings of ugliness from the disfigurement and the shame for what had been done to me. Everyone in the 70s blamed the girl. My nanna convinced me that “a man is a man and can’t help but take what is on a plate in front of him”
I never placed myself in his path. I had trusted my co worker when she arranged the party but had not worn a short skirt, low neckline or makeup. I dressed as a tomboy, convinced that un feminine clothing was to avoid sexual assault or rape. I never flaunted myself at the perp, it was he who’d preyed on me yet I’d felt somehow to blame for being there (I hadn’t know what was in store as I’d believed the hosts lies) and felt as a lesser second class species for,having been born with a vagina, like it was my inherent evil and fault.
So ashamed and embarrassed I never told a soul but after the party had got a reputation in the community for being a crying drunk. Nothing could be further from the truth.
I never had boyfriends and kept my distance so much people said I was a lesbian and/man hater but still somehow got groped by a taxi driver I met in church.
When I was 23 I was introduced to a private detective by another co worker to do a job for him. He had me make phone calls to him to report his partners adulterous affair with one of her patients. He tricked me then said I’d broken the law and he’d report me to police if I ever said anything.
He’d told me his partner had been having sex with one of her patients at the private hospital where she was a nurse; that the patient had boasted having felt her up, through her nurses uniform, in his hospital bed.
He convinced me he was the victim, that shed engaged him to find her adopted baby and that she then moved in with him. He lied when he convinced me shed betrayed him and had made me pity him. I had no reason to disbelieve him because my co worker had arranged our meeting. I had no idea what I was in for.
While consoling him, he took advantage and sexually abused me.
He wore police clothing, had police radios, handcuffs, kept a loaded pistol in a shoulder holster under his suit jacket and convinced me he was a member of the secret service. He stopped me getting to work on time so that I lost my job eventually and had to become dependent on him for income. He made me give up my own life, work, friendships, to stay in his office from early morning till after midnight 7 days a week but tricked me out of wages.
He threatened and blackmailed me, made me succumb to his sexual advances or he’d hit the rough and threaten me. He’d accuse me of dishonesty for not admitting I wanted it,must i was a horny sexual maniac and if I didn’t say no to him it was my fault – all the while ensuring I couldn’t say no.
He was a PI so had surveillance devices and spying resources to stalk me when I wasn’t in his presence. He made me leave my flat and move into one near his home on my own without flatmates. However he wouldn’t pay me so I couldn’t afford the rent which was $5 below the dole. He told me I wasn’t allowed to have flatmates for “security” and convinced me he was a local James Bond. He coerced me and threatened to kill my family saying the secret service would make me “disappear” if I ever told anyone. At gunpoint and in handcuffs he raped and abused me, any time any place any how until I no longer resisted and went along with it (rather than suffer the consequences).
He was security for a local race track and I had to turn up there at night to work wage free. I went on the dole and was made to accept a day Job. But while I had to wake early for my paid job, he kept me out late every night working for him for free. Then after night rounds on the rice track and elsewhere, took me into the St. John’s ambulance sick bay and raped me every night. He made me get the pill and to carry the card in my purse for his inspection. He made me take it while he watched.
One time when he pinned me against the wall and entered me, he went off his head because I had a tampon inside for my period. I was not allowed to say no and he insisted it wasn’t rape because all I had to do was say no, yet he became abusive nasty and aggressively hostile if I flinched as his hands groped inside my panties any time any where no matter what day or night.
He forced internal examinations on me to increase my humiliation. Then having raped me once agin, he photographed me from the vagina up, forcing me to smile. He made me wait while he developed the film and said if I told anyone he’d show the photos as proof it was all consensual and that I was more than willing and happy for his advances, that it wasn’t rape. He made me believe him as I wasn’t allowed outside contacts or friends and wasn’t allowed to tell the doctors what he did. I felt dirty when he waited outside the chemist while I got the contraception or outside family planning or the doctors. He threatened to kill the doctors if I told or he’d destroy them. He said one of my loved ones would be killed to gain my silence. My brother died in a freak car crash weeks later, then my nanna one month after that. I was terrified into constant silence, though the fear and anxiety consumed and exhausted me and affected my health as well as working relationships. I could not maintain a full time job for very long.
I lived in fear for years and was too afraid to have a social life for fear of being killed off too. I kept friends and family at arms length to save them and also because he’d convinced me they’d readily betrayed me, were spying on me and betrayed confidences. He ensured I couldn’t trust people and that if I told anyone what was wrong or anything about him, there’d be fatal consequences for me and my loved ones. He regularly threatened to kill me at gunpoint saying he could kill me any time he wanted and no one would miss me. He also persuaded me that what he did was for my own good that he knew what was best and that he knew I welcomed his sexual advances because everyone would say I was a willing whore with loose morals, yet I had fought off rapists to ensure I was pure and was a virgin when he took advantage of me.
Five years on, I still felt so dirty, second hand, used and damaged and sullied goods, that when a Turkish doctor raped then said hed marry me to make an honest woman of me, I went through with it. When he first raped me at my family home I didn’t call out or make a noise because I was too embarrassed. He raped and abused me the whole brief marriage but I was so ashamed I couldn’t confide in anyone. I couldn’t trust anyone. People just said there was something wrong with me, that I was defective but I was suffering PTSD and none knew about the sexual abuse, rapes or torture and the PI stalked me for several years.
The PI insisted the police wouldn’t believe me if I told them what he did because he was a special branch officer, a respected businessman, while I was just a maori and an easy slut and that the cops all knew how bad I truly was and they were all his friends and/or subordinates.
The Turk left me after 10 weeks once citizenship was approved. He’d only wanted citizenship from the start but I’d declined marriage of convenience so he had to trick me into marriage. My cousin had betrayed and set me up to be his bride of convenience. He paid her husband when he got nz citizenship and then brought his Turkish wife to nz.
I had a near death experience following medical treatment where the practice nurse was struck off for poisoning patients such as myself. So I decided I had nothing to lose and tried to report the rapists to police before the PI could carry out his death threats. but the local detective fobbed me off, laughed about guns and death threats before finally ringing my tape crisis counsellor to have her stop me lodging rape complaints.
I know all about how police regard rape reports. Having been forced to finally take my complaints seriously, a female cop made me tell her what clothes I wore and whether I wore make up or had been drinking. I had to sign the statement that included what I wore and if I’d consumed alcohol.
All of the abusers were intrusive and preyed on me. I never welcomed them, they sought me out, though I wore no make up or revealing clothing. I lived in dowdy, drab and baggy jeans most of the time to avoid “asking for it”.
I am now severely disabled from a crippling illness and because of alienation caused by the PI, have no one to help me manage. Housebound without wheelchair transport, I live alone and may have to move into a rest home although I am not elderly. I just cannot physically cope but don’t have family or friends to help.