I don’t believe Dr. Christine Blasey was assaulted by our newly appointed Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh. Not for one minute. And, I can speak to the subject because I too have been sexually assaulted, on more than one occasion. Sadly, the number of women who have experienced this life-altering atrocity is staggering. I believe that almost every woman has been subject to molestation or endured some sort of inappropriate behavior by a man in their lifetime. According to the National Sexual Violence Resource Center, one in five women will be raped during their lifetime.

The first time I was molested I was four years old. I was living with my great aunts in San Francisco at the time. I had a sore throat, and instead of taking me to my regular pediatrician, Dr. Kunabarty, I remember his name because he was such a caring a sweet doctor, I was taken to a doctor that was listed under my father’s insurance plan. Since dear old dad never had any interest in me, I can count on one hand how many times I saw him, it added insult to injury.

I know from personal experience that the human mind is quite capable of blocking out painful events. As a believer, I think God kept me from remembering my molestation until I was competent to handle it. I recalled the incident when I was 23 years old, a full 19 years after I was violated.

I’d watched a 60 Minutes special on child molestation. I found it very disturbing, not because of what happened to me when I was four, but because it brought back to my relocation the violations I endured from my step-uncle at the age of six. I’ll get back to later. My great aunt who was still alive at the time, called me immediately after the program to inquire if I had seen it. When I told her that I watched it and shared how disturbing it was, she asked me, “What did that doctor do to you?”

It was a surreal moment in my life. You see, I’d had a recurring nightmare for more years than I could remember that always shook me to the core. I would wake up in a cold sweat with my heart beating so hard that I thought it may leave my chest. In my dream, I would get on a streetcar, take it to the bus, then get on a cable car and walk up a long flight of stairs. At the top of the stairs, I would open the door. As soon as I did, I woke up in terror. I never saw anyone or anything on the other side of that door. I always wondered where the insane dream came from and pondered why I continued to have it.

This was how the fateful trip to the molesting doctor unfolded in San Francisco. My aunt Nennen, the nickname we always called her by, had taken me to the unknown doctor via a streetcar, bus, and a cable car. The doctor’s office was at the top of a very long flight of stairs. When he came into the examination room, my aunt informed him that I had a sore throat. He then asked her to step outside so he could examine me. She was in her sixties at the time, and I’m sure she couldn’t begin to imagine that a doctor would do terrible, inappropriate things to a four-year-old girl. When she left the room, Dr. Disgusting probed every orifice of my tiny body with his hands and fingers. I’m grateful that God keeps me from remembering it in vivid detail because I know that even today, it would be too much for me to handle.
According to my surviving aunt, we lost Nennen when I was thirteen, I came home crying, shaking my head and repeating over and over again, “He didn’t have to do that to me. Why did he do that to me?” She said that when they asked me what the doctor did, I refused to tell them.

So many years after the occurrence it all came flooding back. The outrage I felt cannot be described with words. The first thought that came to my mind was, “Why didn’t they do something about it? How many other little girls were subjected to that monster because he wasn’t stopped?” By this time my aunt was in her eighties and in feeble health. I asked her as gently as possible why they didn’t pursue finding out what happened to me and she said that since I wouldn’t tell them anything they just let it go. She said that after a while I just seemed to forget about it, so they did too. She still wondered about it occasionally, and after watching the 60 Minutes special, she just had to ask me about it.

The perverted physician was ancient when he molested me, so I was sure that he was long since dead. I needed to believe that. I had to accept what had happened to me and move on. It took a while to get past the anger, but eventually, I did. And as the Good Book says, “The truth will set you free.” I never had the dream again. Nineteen years of nightmares instantly came to an end.

As I mentioned earlier in my post, I was also molested by my stepfather’s brother when I was six. I can’t tell you how long it went on. I do recall that he threatened me and told me that I better not tell anyone about it because they would believe it was my fault. I don’t know why children take on guilt so easily, but all predators prey on that innocent weakness. I remember where it happened and who my predator was. As far as I know, he has never run for office anywhere. Did he become a government official? I truly doubt it. I can assure you that if our president, Donald Trump, had nominated my assailant to the position of Superior Court Judge it wouldn’t take months for me to come forward about what he had done to me when I was a child. I’m darn sure it didn’t stop with me either. If he were investigated by the FBI, his character would be revealed in one investigation. Not two, not three and certainly not seven investigations would be needed to expose the guilt of my predator.

I share my story because I believe that Dr. Blasey’s testimony had way too many holes in it. If I, as a six-year-old, can remember what happened to me, why is she so vague about what supposedly happened to her when she was a teenager? I have a son, and I can only imagine what it would be like to have him falsely accused of something so heinous.

I believe that Dr. Blasey was assaulted. Her pain is real. I don’t think for a second that it was Justice Kavanaugh. I believe that she has been a willing pawn in the Democrats efforts to keep Justice Kavanaugh off of the bench. They would not be happy with any nominee our president submitted. We all know it. Blasey is well documented as a Trump hater. She wanted to believe that Kavanaugh was her assailant and I think with some help from her lefty pals, like Diane Feinstein, she has totally convinced herself that it is true. Don’t get me started on the senator who sat on the information for months and then accused the Congress of rushing Blasey’s testimony. Steam comes out of my ears.

The FBI did their job, and they cleared the good judge’s name. I am sickened by the attack on this mans character that continues from the Democrats and their crazy liberal followers. I pray for Justice Kavanaugh and his tortured family. This accusation has caused irreparable damage to his family and tainted his reputation. There are many feminist out there picketing and raising hell because they are willing to take one woman’s uncorroborated testimony over that of an esteemed judge with an impeccable reputation. You bra burning crazies need to wake the heck up. Just because a woman says something doesn’t make it true, any more than everything a man says is a lie.

If I can find the silver lining in this mess, it’s in what President Trump said in his interview today. There are a lot of Democrat’s out there, the ones with the sense God gave a hamster, that can see that their party has gone completely off of the rails. I pray that when election day rolls around this November, they hit their polling places and choose Independent’s and Republican’s and abandon the choosing Democrat’s just because they always have.

This is just one woman’s opinion. Thankfully, we still have freedom of speech. If the Democrat’s get their way, we will lose it. Just keep that in mind when you go to the polls.