When we were little, Me and my younger brother (7 and 4) were being abused by our babysitter. He’d s******* abuse me and then he’d turn around and beat my brother if I acted up or didn’t please him. My dad found the bruises on my brother when we were playing at the park near our house. My brother cried and told my dad that our babysitter hurts him, and my dad turned to me and said “Did he touch you too?” And I remember opening my mouth, feeling full of shame and embarrassment and a voice in my head saying that if I told him about what the babysitter had been doing, he’d be mad at me and think I was trying to get attention. So I lied told him no and that I didn’t even know about what had been going on with my brother. My brother doesn’t remember any of it, other than him getting abused by a babysitter was the reason we went to daycare for so many years. Its been 17 years and I still haven’t had the heart to tell anyone but my husband.