Okay, so I forgot to mention – my uncle’s abuse was not the first. At age four, the neighborhood garbageman picked me up, sat me on his lap and pushed his calloused fingers under the edge of my panties. I remember being told not to tell and I didn’t. If I remember correctly, there was a feeling that my grandmother would be disappointed and I definitely sought her approval in all matters. She had trusted this man to give me a ride in his big truck but I never asked to go again and she never questioned why. When I was five, there were two pre-teenage boys who shoved me to the ground one day and pulled my shorts down to stare at me but that progressed no further as someone hollered for them and they ran off. Looking back, these were surely just warm-ups for what was to come.