Where the blame falls...

The first few chapters of the book were centered around recognizing the abuse as abuse and acknowledging where the blame belongs. First off, I already knew what happened to me was abuse.  There is no way you can look at the horrendous events and think otherwise. Now the blame is a whole different story.  I have never blamed myself for being sexually abused as a child.  This became difficult for me the moment I started to blame my adult self and my parents.  Let me explain my adult self.  That's the Wendy I am now.    The blame I was feeling was for the little girl inside of me.  That little Wendy Sue. That little girl that I didn't protect.  Sure, it'e easier now that I'm an adult to say the things I would do differently.  But that child would never be able to think the way I do now.  She responded the only way a child could have.  Scared and so lost.  I think back at my behavior as a child and wonder how could anyone have not known? Or at least had been suspicious?  This is where the blame I carry shifts to my parents.  How could they have raised me my entire childhood and not know?  My heart tells me they did know.  They just chose to do nothing about it.  I blame them for not only not protecting me, but for allowing the abusers to have access to me.  They put me in harms way.  Not once, not twice, but for most of what should have been called my childhood.  So that leaves me to the blame of the abusers. I blame THEM for what happened to me!  What they did to me was so heinous and so repulsive.  They took my childhood away from me. They forced me to become a victim.  Today I am fighting to become a survivor of being sexually abused by two members of my dad's family.  His father and his youngest brother.