Because he was my Dad and I was 3, so I must have been confused or mis-remembered.

Because my Mom, the enabler, said she was 'always watching', except that later she told me that she was too depressed to watch and that she often was asleep and that she didn't really know.

Because I tried to really believe that Dad walking in on me in the bathrooms so much was really a mistake or an accident.

Because I was a child and told not to speak out.

Because saying anything against my parents as a child was un-Christian.

Because saying anything against a male as a woman was un-Christian.

Because he was 'just trying to comfort me from a panic attack'.

Because I didn't feel like I was worth it anyways.

Because I was scared of wrongfully accusing someone, and I didn't really understand proper boundaries thanks to my childhood.

Because my Mom told me that going into 'the system' would get me and my siblings beaten, raped, and worse - worse than how things were already in my house apparently.

Because my teachers told me how much I could say before they would make a formal record.

Because I was scared of being 'that girl' all over again; I had already been 'that weird sad girl' when my brother died and it felt like being alone on an island.

Because I wanted to be normal.

Because I had good grades and did well in school, so it must not be affecting me, right?

Because a social worker touched my privates when I had told her no, so clearly this was okay.

Because I didn't matter to my parents, to the church (that I found out knew about my abuse), or to other adults that heard me.

Because as long as I went to school and didn't do anything wrong, I was 'fine'.

Because I didn't want to hurt my sister.

Because I would hurt my brother's chances at being a good Christian pastor, according to my family.

These are some of my reasons, at least the ones that I could think of and type without feeling too nauseous.