Even a fog of pain eventually fades away and leaves the sunshine

“You’re too innocent to know anything.”

The problem with people saying that to me is the fact that they assume and forget about being understanding or getting to know a person.

Just because someone acts a certain way on the outside, doesn’t exactly determine how they really are in another situation or setting.
The worst part about keeping thoughts and emotions to myself is the fact that they have the chance to manifest into a ball of fury and sadness. Without the capability to connect and communicate, the stress poses a harder time for the body to handle. And I feel that when negative feelings build up, mental barriers show up.

April is Sexual Assault Awareness month. During this time of year, I’m reminded of the loss, confusion and depression I lived through in the past.

With the constant anger surging from my father, I was never safe to say or do anything that I wanted. Being oppressed is one thing, but living in a home with a mentally, physically, and sexually abusive father was a slow-burning torture.

As a child, I constantly wondered if I would ever feel safe enough to stand up to him and remove my mother and myself from the situation. “I don’t feel safe,” was something I thought every day of my life up until the age of 12.

From as young as I can remember, I could sense the fear emanating from my mother and the underlying anger from my father – waiting to burst.

Feeling powerful, he would constantly bring down my mother by verbally abusing her and being physically aggressive.

When I was in kindergarten, he had been angry that I’d said something and picked me up by my ankle and arm on one side of my body and had physically thrown me as if I were a Frisbee and I flew a few feet away onto my bed. I felt helpless and laid on my bed at that time and cried my eyes out.

Fast-forward to when I was the age of  9, when the sexual abuse started. During winter break, my mother was on vacation in China with my grandfather – leaving no one home, besides me and my father. I’m sure you can imagine what horrible things happened over those two weeks. It was “a secret” and I was told: “You don’t want Daddy to get in trouble and be taken to jail, do you?”
No matter how much I wanted it to stop, I was scared. I didn’t know what to do or who to talk to, because I didn’t know better – how was I supposed to know where I’d go if I said something?

Silenced, alone and scared, I never said anything and continued to be a bubbly character at school with no indication of needing help.  From when I was young, I always stayed strong and never showed my weak side to anyone – even family. Nobody knew the torture I’d filed away in my brain for years.

To me, I considered my life an acting audition and I was so good at it, no one knew. Because I was able to express my happy side, no one sensed anything until my fuse blew in fifth grade.

I told everything to my school counselor, what had happened from third grade up until that day. I was saved by my loving grandparents, who took me and mother in and helped me. I would never again have to endure that kind of abuse, to this day.
Of course, it’s not exactly safe out in the world, but at least I’m able to go out and be myself. I experienced severe depression from sixth grade to eighth grade, but slowly became comfortable with myself and open again.

Outside of school, I took the time to help the local Portland Chinese community and be a positive role model to those my age and younger. In high school, I became a positive person and helped my peers and communicated with teachers.

Once I graduated, I’d completely turned my life into something that I would like to see in other people. Although I continued to struggle during the winter months, I distracted myself by performing for Chinese New Year, which was also around that time.

Now, I’m Editor-in-Chief of the Advocate, I hold a few part-time jobs, and am a senior member of an influential Chinese lion dance team in Portland. I want to let every survivor and someone who is currently experiencing this to know – you can get through this.
No matter how scared you are and how much pain you have, please tell someone when you feel ready to. If you need someone to talk to on campus, you may come talk to me in Room 1369. Everyone matters.

When you’re ready, Public Safety on campus will help you. Or, contact a friend you can trust or RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network, the nation’s largest anti-sexual violence organization).

To contact RAINN, go to: https://www.rainn.org/get-help or call them at, 800-656-HOPE (4673).