My Testimony

6 min readJan 25, 2021


“I have been asked to repost my story. Feel free to share. If my experience helps even one person heal or even become involved in Child Advocacy, it was worth telling. Your story might do the same.”

By Josh Wilson

A Survivor

*E2E Disclaimer — This blog contains sensitive issues around the subject of rape and child abuse. Please be aware before reading this content. This is an account of the writers life and his story.

Originally published August 29th 4:03 AM ~ By Joshua Wilson

This post is one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. I have been so torn about whether this is a good thing to discuss or if it would, believe it or not, bring shame or even embarrassment to me as an adult. It is crazy that the thought has even crossed my mind, but it has. It is so difficult to open up about these very personal things, but I really feel like I need to say it out loud so that through my experience, I may be able to help someone who has been through or going through a similar situation. And maybe through the telling of my story, I can personally overcome some things to help me heal, as it has affected me in every aspect of my life, even late into my adulthood. I have had friends ask me recently why I have dedicated so much time and energy into child advocacy and bringing awareness to child trafficking and child sexual abuse with my blog: Texas Silverback. The simple truth is, I was a victim and now a survivor of child rape. When I was a child, I was involved with a group, it is kind of like the Boy Scouts for Christians through the church. And like the Boy Scouts, we had all the outfits, weekly meetings, and church camps with all kinds of badges and pins as we accomplished different things. Through this church group, we would learn skills that were meant to teach us how to survive and give us a moral compass to navigate through life using Christian values and biblical principles. But during this time, I was exposed to very dark things that I have never been able to talk about until now. My memories of this time at my church camp were nothing short of terrifying.

“I remember him telling me if I say anything, my parents will not believe me”

I remember cowering on the floor in the back of a bus with the back door locked while one of the group leaders pursued me. I remember how helpless I felt that I did not know how the long latch worked to open the door. I remember how no matter how deep I crawled underneath the seats; I still felt completely exposed. I remember crying and yelling for help. I remember feeling like no matter how much I yelled, it did no good because no one could hear me, as the buses were on the opposite end of camp where everyone was sleeping. I remember how he smelled of alcohol. I remember asking what I did wrong. I remember him telling me if I say anything, my parents will not believe me, and he would tell them I was a liar. I remember how I was worried about getting in trouble. I remember him touching me in the worst possible ways and my hands being forced onto him. I remember how strong he was and how helpless I felt. I remember how my tears tasted as they engulfed my face. I remember his hands around my neck. I remember how I could not breathe and how big and calloused his hands were. I remember not knowing how to cope with the pain. I remember a long period of feeling numb and hopeless, I remember having no control over what was happening. I remember being so confused and not knowing why he was doing this to me. I remember feeling like I left my own body. I remember, at some point, something clicked inside of me and I started violently kicking and screaming. I remember my screams were so loud at times they even hurt my own ears as they echoed through the metal bus. I remember how the more I kicked and screamed the tighter his grip became and the worse it hurt. I did not stop. I remember one of my kicks seemed to hurt him. I remember how quickly he left me and exited the bus. I remember how I stayed on the bus crying for what seemed like forever and being so afraid he would come back. I remember feeling he was far enough away I could finally leave. I remember how fast I ran. I remember how dark it was outside. I remember the sound of the gravel moving beneath my feet as I ran. I remember seeing the full moon moving further and further away from me the faster I ran. I remember how it felt like an eternity before I made it back to the cabins. I remember climbing into my bed quietly and being absolutely terrified of anyone knowing where I had been. I remember feeling like I did something wrong. I remember crying in bed while everyone else continued to sleep. I remember the squeak of the door as the same man visited me in my bed. I remember lying face down while he put his hand around my neck and with his alcohol breath whispering in my ear that if I said a word to anyone, he would make sure I would never breathe again. I remember thinking I was going to die. I remember the next few days seeing him everywhere I went. I remember every time I saw him; he would give me a dead stare as if to warn me of talking. I remember being terrified that if anyone would find out what happened, what he would do to me. I am not comfortable getting into any more of the graphic details of what he did to me. But it was horrible and gruesome.

“I cannot just go on about my life everyday knowing these kids are feeling the same helplessness and pain that I did on that bus”

To this day I often feel like I am not enough. I am truly a broken man. That experience has given me so much insecurity that it has affected almost every relationship I have been in, no matter the type. It affects me in everything I do. I am realizing that more each day. Recently, it dawned on me that all these children who are going missing are experiencing the same hell that I went through, but even worse. Most are dying. I was so lucky! I can only say that now because of what we are learning about these evil people and what they are doing to our children. I felt a call to action. I do not know if I can be a factor because in many ways I still feel helpless as an adult. But I have something in me that says I need to protect them. I cannot just go on about my life everyday knowing these kids are feeling the same helplessness and pain that I did on that bus. Thank you for spreading awareness and being a part of this cause. Thank you for supporting Texas Silverback. And thank you for listening to my story.

Written By Josh Wilson © FB Page: (Texas Silverback)

FB Page — @empathssafespace

FB Private Group — Empath For Men (Men Only)

FB Private Group — Empath’s Safe Space

Twitter — @empathtoempath

Medium — @lockdowninspired

Originally published at on January 25, 2021.




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