Spring of ’84

Parking Lot
The Latin word rapere “to seize,” from which rape is derived
I was very excited to be going on my first date with this guy that I had met at the mall. He was tall, with an athletic built. He was very handsome, quite charming and very polite. When he came to my house to pick me up, he was a proven gentleman by saying all the right things to my Mom and getting the green light to take her daughter out to dinner.
As we walked to his car, he quickly opened the car door for me and we drove off.
It was in the evening around 7:00pm, we were on our way to a late dinner. As we passed by my high school, he proceeded to drive into the parking lot. I looked at him with a nervous smile and asked him why are we here?
He let me know that we had some time to kill before dinner and he wanted to hang out and talk before we go to the restaurant.
The talking quickly lead to kissing, which lead to him getting on top of me, pulling my skirt up and  entering me. I told him I was a virgin and begged him to stop and that he was hurting me.. his response, “I will be gentle”.
The charming and polite gentlemen, quickly turned into a cold, self-gratifying, jerk.
I felt dizzy, as my head was spinning, and every emotion from anger, shock and despair engulfed me.  I couldn’t believe what was happening.
The next thing I hear is a tap..tap..tap.. on the window and a light flashing into the drivers side.  
 He immediately jumps off of me and pulls up his pants.
He rolled the down the window, and it was a police officer. The officer asks us what we are doing and asks for his license.
The officer than shines his light on me, and asks me for my name and birthdate. I give him my real name, but a fake birthdate, I pretended to be 17, (the age I told the guy, when I met him at the mall) now I told the same lie to the officer. In actuality, I was 14 and the guy was 19.
You see, even though I was being violated,
I was too afraid to tell the truth.
I felt like, since I had lied, it was as if I had deserved it.
The officer looked at me with disappointing eyes, shook his head and told us to leave the high school property.
He drove me home, kissed me on my cheek and told me that he had a great night.
Without responding, I got out of the car, went into the house, took a shower…and cried.
I felt like I wanted to die.
I didn’t tell anyone about the rape until I was an adult. I felt like it was my fault and I blamed myself for everything…
Things that played out in my head were:
I shouldn’t have lied…
I shouldn’t have went on the date…
I shouldn’t have worn a skirt…
I should’ve told him no, I didn’t want to go to my high school parking lot…
I should’ve screamed and fought him…
I should’ve told the police officer what happened…
I’m nothing…
I’m dirty…
I hate myself.
Those words haunted me for years…
TODAY, I know that I was not to blame.
That it wasn’t my fault…
It’s not the clothes that I wore..
or what I looked like..
or what I said…
or what I did or did not do.
I did not encourage him or provoke him to rape me.
Today, I no longer live in shame.
 National Sexual Assault Hotline

https://rainn.org/     1-800-656-4673(HOPE)

No turning back…

What do I see in the depths of her heart?

but a child so pure, innocent and set apart…

apart from the filth and innocence robbed…

apart from the trusting hands that cradled her soul…

took her aside and stole what was not theirs…

apart from lies and deep secrets untold…

childhood nightmares…

try to continue to unfold…

give her air…

so she can breathe…

open the window and set her…


Being 9 years old, I did not understand the sick logic of an old man and his ungodly desire to violate children. Why would the same person who brought so much joy to a family, bring pain? He was a lion in sheep’s clothing, and the least likely to ever be accused of such a crime. The burden he placed upon us to “keep a secret”, was the ultimate breach of trust against generations of children.

To be set free from the pain of my past, everyday I have to believe that I have a choice…

A choice to listen to the lies or the truth

To see myself as healed or broken

To live with shame or to live unashamed

To speak or to silence my voice.

You see, to declare that I’m no longer held captive by my childhood secrets, requires a daily willingness to change how I view myself and a determination to never be bound to that pain again.

~ Denise

Who the Son sets free is free indeed. John 8:36



This poem is in tribute to the little girl, in me, who at 9 years old, unexpectedly became the victim to the abuse of a family friend.

In the early morning hours, just prior to dawn.

you silently stepped into the bedroom

and viewed your next victim.

Your excitement grew,

as you placed one of your hands,

upon her flat, pre-adolescent chest,

and moved the other hand beneath the covers.

As you attempted to reach her innocence,

she flinched… and fear overtook her as she see’s you hovering over her.

STOP! She yelled.

You glared at her disgustingly,

and quickly left the room.

She was the lamb to the slaughter,

the doe to the hunter.

The ultimate sacrifice to the appetite of,

this dirty old man.

Denise Boyd Copyright ©


Cutting the ties that bind….

My pulse is racing, sweat is pouring from my forehead, the lump in my throat is being crushed with each attempt to swallow. A panic attack is nearing…so I open my eyes, and realize I am ok.

Cut the rope from around your neck that’s attempting to choke your reality..

As a survivor of sexual abuse. There had been many years that an “invisible” rope was draped around my neck. Every flashback triggered a negative reaction that seemed to bring an overwhelming sensation of choking.

Literally choking..you know..the feeling of desperately trying to cry out or speak, but the tightening of the muscles around my neck, made it impossible.

The intense emotional pain from the abuse, had me wanting to crawl out of my skin in order to find relief.

“On the Other Side of Fear, Lies Freedom” ~ risingbean

For many years, the pain laid dormant around the exterior of my heart. Which prevented self worth and love to penetrate.

Every prior resistance to healing, is no longer confined to the barriers of those walls.

For over 40 years, I allowed the abuser(s) to have power over me…power over my way of thinking…power over the way I behaved….they controlled my destiny…because I gave them all my power.. Yes, many days, the pain still exists, but I am in a state of constant change that is taking me from despair…to reclaiming my life.

To live in freedom, is MY RITE OF PASSAGE.

I believe that on my Journey to Healing, God is the source of my Strength.

Shatter the glass of any negative in your past, Remove the burden carried upon your back.
Cut the rope from around your neck that’s attempting to choke your reality.
Stand with hope, truth and a desire to face all trials with dignity.
Breathe deep the fragrance of sweet victory. You have the power within to reach your every dream.
Stand up and know exactly whom you are, Lift your head my sister and no longer look down.
For a virtuous Woman is emerging from within.
Copyright ©2008 Denise Boyd