I was abused by a priest beginning at age 5. Raped and impregnated by same priest while still in elementary school. Miscarried. Lost the baby, my innocence and my childhood. Endured several surgical procedures while still in elementary school and continuing throughout my first year of high school. Final result…a total hysterectomy. No children for me ever. I would forever carry that undeniable void. It is a life long pain, a loss that I grieve daily. Mother kept ‘my secret’? My ‘dirty little secret’? To this day I still do not know what my siblings were told about ‘my dirty little secret’. I do not know what my own father was told. The Silence was Deafening. At 15….a nun enters my life. She was 36. A nun paid attention to me! A nun. A holy woman. A woman of God. My whole young life all I wanted was to be a nun. I wanted to be holy. For a young catholic girl in the 60’s…this was a dream come true. She paid attention to me! She listened to me. She told me I was smart and interesting and pretty. She seemed to care. She told me she cared. She told me she loved me.  She sent me love letters. She warned me not to show them to anyone. I did not understand. I hid them but I wanted to shout it to the world. I kept those love letters as a teenager would forever hold onto the remnants of their first crush. Sister Pedophile was my first crush. She proceeded to teach me about sex. 15/36. Fifteen! Thirty six! She groomed me. I told her about the priest and the rape and the miscarriage. She told me, “he was a sick man and it wasn’t his fault” and then she took me under her wing and into her bed. She gave me Librium and Valium. She gave me gifts… and time. She fed me alcohol. She drugged me to make me more compliant in the bedroom. I was scared. I was naive. I was virginal in this aspect. She told me the pills would help to relax me. Her needs often exceeded the bedroom. She demanded attention in obscure places; the back seat of the convent car, dark balcony seats in movie theatres, elevators in NYC, her relatives homes, a friend’s swimming pool, her parent’s own bed, and highway motels on Route 17 in Bergen County, New Jersey…in the middle of the school day… 20 minutes from my parent’s home. She took me out of class in my catholic high school. She was a nun. She was a school Principal. No one stopped her. She took me to the Meadowlands and taught me how to bet on the horses. I was 15 and 16. She introduced me to the lights and excitement of Atlantic City and extravengant hotel rooms where we would stay behind closed doors for entire weekends. Enjoying yummy fluffy snuggly bath robes, 24 hour room service, a bar in the room, huge soft clean beds with crisp white pressed sheets and a million pillows, AND… a Privacy tag that hung on the outside knob of our bedroom door. How could I not thank her? She offered me the world  and asked only for my body. With an ocean view, this is where she taught me how to please her. She always wore a medal of the Virgin Mary during sexual encounters… and sometimes her veil and ring. I still have the veil. It was confusing. She took advantage of my age and natural desire to please and to be liked. She abused me. She used me emotionally, mentally, physically and sexually. She destroyed me Spiritually. She toyed with my young feelings. She promised, cajoled, pressured and lied to me. She stole my Innocene, my Future and my Faith. She broke me while at the same time telling me she was my Savior…saving me from a dysfunctional family. She put a wedge between me and my family. I lost my siblings, parents, cousins, aunts and uncles. But worst was the loss of my niece and nephews. She told me I could not date boys. She told me how to wear my hair and who I could hang out with. She isolated me. She destroyed me for her own sexual gratification. I was her toy girl. (But, according to her belief regarding the pedophile priest… it wasn’t her fault… she was a sick woman?) But it was very much her fault. I was still a kid. It was the Stockholm Syndrome for me. I was so emeshed with her…I would have died for her. She did an exemplary job at grooming. No doubt she had prior experience. She was polished at the Art of Teen Grooming. She was accomplished. (Practice makes Perfect) I was most definitely not the first notch on the belt of the rosary beads that circled her waist. She was practiced and crafty, manipulative and sneaky. She isolated me from my friends and family. No one intervened. Her ‘religious congregation’ knew, yet did nothing to curb her perverted appetite. She took me into convents up and down the east coast of the United States and across International borders into Canada. We drove from Florida to Nova Scotia and back to New Jersey several times over the span of 12 years. I slept in convents and motels up and down the east coast. (I could write a book on the things I saw and heard.) Always entering the convents through the backdoor and up the back staircase to the second floor… passing others nuns who would literally turn their backs as I entered, (blind eye deaf ear defense) and again as I exited the next morning. I was ripe for the picking. The Pedophile Priest had prepped me well. Over the years, I sought out four nuns in her community and begged them, through my tears to make her stop. I read them a heartbreaking letter