When the abuse was taking place I did not understand why someone would not rescue me. Even though I had not told anyone; I was convinced they could tell just by looking at me. I felt so dirty and ashamed, I was sure everyone knew how bad I was; they just didn't want to help. That put a major chip on my shoulder, but let's face it; what teenager doesn't appear to have a chip on their shoulder. I felt like I stood out, when most likely I blended right in. Being shy and withdrawn kept me out of a lot of trouble.

I no longer look for a rescuer, but it angers me when people diminish another's suffering and in a gentle way; I try to rescue those suffering with my words whether they are present or not. I guess I am a passive rescuer.