My mother used to suck on my breasts as a kid saying that it is love. Even when I was smaller she used to kiss my vagina. And till I was 20 she refused to leave the room when I wanted to change clothes...she used to stay watch and comment on my body...melanin...and my smell everything . Do u think that was abuse?

Also she used to comment on my body a lot meanwhile also not taking care of it. Example "You smell like shit...HAHA yes that's genetic" meanwhile never buying a proper separate soap for me...or talcum or a tiny cheap perfume...also the clothes were not washed with proper detergent...maybe 2 days used detergent on repeat.

She used to tell my friends that i smell like shit and that my friends need to explain me to take care of myself MEANWHILE all the products she used to buy were according to her body type. I was not even allowed to use the facewash more than once a day.

And then she used to mock me saying that it's all genetics and I can't do anything about it.

And as a kid i remember forcefully getting my hair chopped by her...I used to cry a lot. A LOT. And to make me stop crying she used to say shit like...that if u were a guy I would have married u and not your dad ...Guys idk if it sounds funny but it used make me feel so out of place...I wanted to be a girl. I AM A GIRL. also pink wasn't allowed only blue.

(Also whenever I tried to confront her about anything even if it is something as small...she ended up mocking me saying that I have been a kiddish imaginative person since childhood...idk maybe that's why I feel so out of place ...and confused)

41m professional dude. I'd like to chat with others about how this affects us as adults- hypersexuality, shame, isolation, sadness, etc.

Yes I've posted a variation of this in the past but my intention is not to spam but just see if someone new or shy find this resonant.

These are hard to process and difficult areas to share with those that can't relate. If you can relate and want to chat to see if we can provide value and support to each other feel free to reach out - any gender! Not looking for anything shady here - just to connect in whatever way is comfortable to navigate these challenging issues in our lives. We've all been drafted in this club but we live in a world of civilians- it would be nice to not feel alone.

Does anybody else really struggle with sleep? I have nightmares, I fight sleep til I’m so drained I pass out randomly wherever I am. I wake up sucking my thumb. I wake up terrified that that I heard the door creak. If the blankets is over my head, I panic. I jsut want to sleep like a normal person.

So what now? I hate that it did. I feel very alone with it and it destroys all kinds of relationships I'm able to have. I'm useless as a girlfriend because I'm such a mess all the time, in and out of the bedroom. I can't decide what I want or can tolerate. One day I'm hypersexual in such a destructive way. The next no one can touch me.

Therapy only helped vaguely. I never feel like I can get into detail because I can't get the words out they just stay stuck in my throat. I can't talk to my therapist about explicit things because I feel like I shouldn't say them. I was never allowed to say them. So what I can't say can't get processed. I feel so stuck and insane all the time.

when I was a kid my mom used to spend 30 minutes to an hour stroking my cheek and neck with her lips slowly while breathing heavily and kissing me in those spots and getting closer to hover over me while doing it and it made me sooo uncomfortable like she was crossing my boundaries especially cause she would wait till I was "sleep" to do it. and she would tug on my earlobes like a creep. it just felt like she was doing four play on her own child and it felt like something you do with a spouse not a kid. I have flashback hallucinations about it often too and makes me uncomfortable and scream a lot

I read an instagram post (amazing reliable resource, i know💀) talking about how not every sexual aggressor feels attraction towards their victims, in some cases the conduct could be related to power, domination, humiliation or control.

My experience with CSA is still highly confusing, and i want to understand what went through his mind when he decided to do that to me..

This is a sensitive conversation, but what could make me distinguish if the reason of his abuse was sexual attractio, control, power, or else?

I feel like I'm constantly stuck on the topic and it won't leave my mind. I'm so dysfunctional all the time. When I just go to do every day things my mind goes back to places I don't want it to go and it takes ages to shake myself out of it.

I wish I could just do stuff and enjoy it without being stopped several times a day to think about it.

On top of that I just suck at normal relationship stuff. I can't be friends with men. I don't know how to act around them. It's always awkward, or if it works, it takes until they're in a bad mood and I feel so threatened I have the weird urge to offer to sleep with them in order to calm them down. I wish I wouldn't have those feelings. It makes me so sad because why can't I just respect my friends' feelings without wanting to fix them? That's just sick. I feel nauseous. Wish I could respect myself more too. I'm more than my body

I never said no. I never told my sister to stop, or that I didn’t want to, or that she was so mean to me when we weren’t fooling around that I didn’t feel like indulging her.

I also feel like I didn’t have it as bad compared to others. I was a little boy, and nobody ever penetrated me. They just completely broke my brain. “Normal” sex seems so boring to me. I almost wish I had been brutalized so I would feel more like I belong here.

I’m on an SSRI now to deal with the anxiety and depression my family caused. I can’t get erections, so there’s no release for the dark thoughts I also feel guilty about. My wife is lovely and supportive, but she doesn’t know about the abuse. I worry she would abandon me. I love my kids with all my heart, which is the only reason I’m not clearing my head with a bullet.

Had a new memory resurface recently, which has been happening more and more.
He’d usually have me face the wall. If I was good and quiet he’d let me squeeze my stuffie.
I had a wind up stork stuffie that played a lullaby like a music box style. Sometimes he’d wind it up and tell me he’d be done by the time it stopped playing music. I knew exactly how long it would go. But sometimes he’d twist it more before it stopped.
I don’t know how young I must have been but based on the memories I had to have been younger than 5. I have no idea how to feel about it.

For the people who suffer from CAS yet still achieved high education. How did you do it I can’t for the life of me do well academically. I’m barely surviving and it’s taking a lot of my mental capacity to do so. I’m heavily medicated with causes me to feel sedated 24/7 and I’m on high doses because otherwise my world will crumble and i won’t even be able to get out of bed.
Please share any info regarding studying while lacking motivation/ fighting depression
I really need to do very well on my finals.

Processing childhood sexual abuse and grooming, M27

TRIGGER WARNING: Grooming, CSA, Suicidal thoughts

TL:DR at end. I’m male 27, and this past year, memories of my childhood sexual abuse have surfaced. For most of my life I thought how I grew up was normal. In therapy, I'm realizing it wasn't, and that it's been showing up in my life in ways I never connected until now.

When I was 9, my 17-year-old sister molested me while she was babysitting. She got into the bath with me, she started touching my penis and made me finger her and touch her, and eventually tried to make me penetrate her. I’d repressed this until remembering it recently. I didn’t think I was that upset about it happening that’s it just one of those things but since remembering it, the more I think about it the more distraught I get. I’ve been having this disgusting sensation recently when I think about it my body responds with arousal and it’s really confusing and disgusting to me, especially being gay.

At 10, I looked up porn on my DSi. My parents caught me, but instead of explaining anything, they just made me feel ashamed.

From 11 to 13, I had sexual experiences with my male best friend. From then on, I knew I was gay. I didn't know any other gay kids, so at 12 I started looking for validation in online chatrooms, hoping to find a boyfriend. The first guy I "dated" said he was 17. He always asked for nude pictures and never sent any back. I later found out he was actually a 20-year-old woman.

After that I kept looking for a boyfriend, but instead I was groomed online again and again. I sent nude pictures of myself, a child, to boys my age and sometimes to adult men, and I didn't really care that they were adults. My dad once caught me sending inappropriate messages (not pictures). He gave me a safe-sex talk but didn't do anything to stop it, so the online abuse kept happening regularly from 13 to 16.

At 16, I lost my virginity to a random guy from my high school. After that, I regularly used hookup apps and met up with strangers in unsafe ways.

At 21, I got into my second-ever serious relationship, the one I'm still in today.

Until now, I thought I was normal. I'm not. I'm hypersexual and traumatized, and over the last two years it's come out as cheating on my loving boyfriend three times.

On the outside, I have my ideal life. I have a job I love that I've wanted since I was young. I have a loving boyfriend of almost six years. I'm almost done with university, and I have friends I love. But the last two years have been some of the hardest of my life.

It started about two years ago, after a threesome went badly. My boyfriend, a friend of ours and I were all very drunk after Pride weekend in our city. I felt left out. They finished together and I didn't. Afterward, they had sex again in the shower after I'd asked them not to. Either they didn't hear me or they ignored me. Later that night, I hooked up with our friend on my own. My boyfriend caught on and was very unhappy.

Things stayed strained for a while, especially because the two of them became best friends afterward, which made me really uncomfortable. They'd hang out, and sometimes my boyfriend wouldn't let me join.

In all that distress and distrust, I cheated on him by cruising on my college campus. I felt horrible and confessed the same day. He was hurt and upset, but glad I told the truth. Slowly, things got better.

Months later, on Christmas Eve, I was pulled over with marijuana in the car and arrested for a DUI. I hadn't smoked, but the officer didn't believe me. (I beat the charge months later with a lawyer.) Until that court date, it was a new low in my life. On top of that, I was lonely because my boyfriend had become completely absorbed in his work. I ended up sexting other guys on Snapchat. He caught me, and it was really hard for a long time.

We started couples therapy and things slowly improved, but eventually we stopped going because he didn't want to anymore. Things looked okay on the surface but were fractured underneath. For months, we settled into a new normal while we healed.

Then I lapsed again. I helped my sister move from our city to Chicago, 13 hours away. I love my sister, but the move was horrible and she was incredibly inconsiderate. My dad and I drove the moving truck. When it came time to carry her stuff up four flights of stairs, she disappeared to go shopping for "necessities" with her phone off. She didn't come back until hours later, after the truck was unloaded.

Meanwhile, my boyfriend was anxious about me traveling and stopped talking to me the whole time. I was very upset with my sister, and his distance made me feel very lonely. I stayed in Chicago a few more days, but my sister was at work and he still wasn't talking to me. I was incredibly lonely and dissociating.

I ended up on an app, trying to hook up with guys. It never happened. What I didn't know was that one of the guys I was talking to was my boyfriend, undercover. When I flew home, he didn't pick me up like we'd planned. Instead, I got screenshots of our conversation and an incredibly upset, painful text, which I deserved.

We didn't break up, but we didn't talk for weeks. I started individual therapy and accepted the possibility that I have a sex addiction that comes out during hard times in my life. I started going to SAA and kept working on myself.

When I look at these last two years next to my childhood, I see the same pattern. When I'm lonely or hurting, I go looking for sex and validation from strangers, just like I did as a kid.

He's hurt but understanding, and we're trying to fix things one last time. Neither of us wants to throw away the last six years, despite my issues. Our relationship isn't as strong as it was, and I've put him through a lot.

I never wanted to be a disgusting cheater. I feel like a horrible person, absolute scum of the earth. I feel like a broken person with no morals, a stain on this earth, and I don't think I'll ever forgive myself. I'm in SAA and therapy, but I still struggle with unwanted sexual thoughts.

Sometimes I think about just ending it all. Early in therapy, I almost bought a gun to do it. One day at work, I cried in the bathroom with a blade at my wrist, but I didn't have the balls to do it. I'm glad I'm too weak to do it, but sometimes I wish I weren't.

I never wanted to be this person. If my younger self could look ahead and see who I've become, he'd be horrified.

TL;DR: I was sexually abused as a kid and groomed online for years, and I'm only now realizing how much it shaped me. As an adult, it's come out as hypersexuality, and I've cheated on my boyfriend of six years three times during hard periods. I'm in SAA and therapy, trying to rebuild, and I've been struggling with suicidal thoughts.

When I was 8 I had this huge crush on my neighbor. He was also young like 15ish? One time I literally dressed up in a white dress and asked him to marry me. One day he came over and asked if I wanted to be friends with benefits. I had no clue what that meant so I asked him what it meant. He told me it’s when you like someone but still want to be friends. I said yes and thats when it started. At first it was just kissing but then it became more. I remember one time he asked if I wanted to try something. I’m actually cringing just thinking about this next part. But he asked me to uhm….go down on him (am I allowed to say that!??!). Anyway sorry if this is tmi but I remember being so confused and it felt very odd but he basically just told me to act like it’s an ice cream cone…omg bro this shit is actually bonkers. Anyways I am now a full fledged lesbian and Idk in my mind I don’t classify it as SA since we were both young but also he was the one completely in control so idk. I can’t tell if it’s affected me or not.

After a run in with my abuser at a public event I'm questioning if my mom knew or had an idea something was happening to me when I was a kid

Hola, soy de México, soy hombre mi padrastro abuso de mi, esto nunca lo he contado a nadie, no recuerdo a qué edad tenía pero iba en la primaria, mi papá nos abandono cuando nací y mi mamá después tuvo un novio, el cual decía que era mi padrastro, el al principio era muy amable y educado conmigo, en ese entonces mi mamá estaba todo el tiempo conmigo sin embargo los fines de semana ella por el trabajo no me podia cuidar y mi padrastro se encargaba de mi y ahí abusaba de mi, me engañaba y me hacía ver el abuso como amor, me lo hacía parecer normal y me decía que al igual que con mi mamá el me trataba igual porque me amaba pero que no debía decir nada, fueron casi dos años así, aunque había temporadas que no lo hacía, pero siempre volvía, un día tuvo una pelea muy fuerte con mi mamá y se separaron desde entonces solo lo he visto de lejos pocas veces y me aterra, aunque se fue el daño que me hizo nunca se podrá reparar, creci siendo un niño inseguro y temeroso, sufrí de bullying y nunca he tenido novia, me drogaba y aunque mi mamá siempre me apoyaba nunca le pude decir nada ya que para ella siempre fui un hombre seguro y fuerte y no queria arruinarlo, le ocultaba demasiadas cosas y lo peor es que siempre me sentí culpable ya que soy gay y de alguna manera el me hacía ver qué eso estaba bien, he ido al psicólogo y psiquiatra pero solo trato otros problemas que tengo y solo tocó el tema de forma muy superficial ya que me da miedo contar todo, espero me entiendan

I 21m was molested by 2 different guys as a boy. I never felt forced or hurt. But it definitely made me hypersexual. Been thinking about it all day today.

I have posted about my SA in this sub before, and to make a long story short, I was between the ages of 7 and 9 when this all happened. He would take me up to his cabing and have me dress like a girl and then had me do things girlfriends would do.

Fast forward to now, and I still want to dress like a girl. It helps me relax and reduces anxiety. I feel shame in doing it, but i also feel good about doing it. This all gets confusing and I don't know if I am trying to relive it. I did end up enjoying what was happening to me, even tho I know how wrong it was.

Kinda long so apologies in advance.

My uncle and I had a sexual relationship when I was clearly young. Was it wrong, yes. However, I enjoyed it, all of it. I do not consider it sa and I'm sure that's wrong too. At the time, he was 16, he is 6 years older than me. He definitely didn't do it in a way I was hurt or afraid. This went on for years. Basically until I got a girlfriend but we would occasionally have "fun" on and off until I was 21. This all led me to be hypersexual in every relationship I have had over the years. I have had sex with both genders my whole life. From my younger years to adulthood. I met and married a woman who is bi and had similar experiences growing up. The hypersexuality between the both of us was a perfect match. Getting off on each other's past even to this day. I have so many emotions about it all that at times, it's confusing and others its not. I remember everything, from start to finish like a movie I seen a million times. Not sure why I wrote this at the moment but it seemed like something I needed to say. Maybe in hopes it would help.

When I was younger one of the kids in school told us a story about his mom molesting him letting him shower with her and so on. I remember at the time telling him well at least you know she loves you. I sometimes wished my mom would show me love like that because I felt like she didn't love me. I guess it's a result of my childhood trauma that I had that thought. I talked to my therapist about it ,she didn't really offer any great advice.

I've never told anyone all of this completely or let it out of me like this.. In pieces yes.. my therapist knows most of it and my mom knows some. But never the whole thing. So I just want to get this off of my chest once and for all especially somewhere nobody knows who I am, because if I don't get it out tonight I think I'm going to explode. Extremely sorry in advance, this is going to be long and messy and I feel very vulnerable even writing this.. I feel so small

So.. my uncle sexually abused me. From when I was 7 until I was almost 10.

It's traumatic even recalling it and writing the things that he made me do and did to me.. Just.. that it happened a lot and it hurt and I was a little kid who still slept with a nightlight...

The worst part was that he was the fun uncle. Like genuinely everyone loved him. Magic tricks at birthday parties.. fixing stuff around the house, I remember he would make my mom laugh so hard she'd snort. When my parents started working late on Fridays he would offer to babysit and everyone kept saying how lucky we were.

He told me I was his favorite. He said it was our secret and if I ever told, my mom would cry and the family would fall apart and it would be my fault. I was 7. I believed him cause like why wouldn't I.. haha.. I feel so dumb..

The thing that messes with my head the most is he's also the one who taught me to ride a bike. I hate having to share such a core moment of my life with him and it eats me on the inside..

When he would put his thing in me I used to kind of float up to the ceiling in my head and count the cracks on the ceiling on the wall.. I got really good at leaving my body and I still do it sometimes, I didn't even know there was a word for it until last year..

Looking back.. I mean.. there were signs. I just need someone to actually hear this part to just let go of it maybe... I had stomachaches every single Friday.. every single. and it hurt just so much.. I started wetting the bed again.. and I wouldn't let anyone hug me.. I rememeber that I'd hide under my bed whenever I heard his car.. and every adult in my life who was supposed to look out for me would jsut look right at it and would say it's just a phase..

So he moved away when I was 10.. new job. They threw him this huge goodbye party and I hid in the upstairs bathroom the whole time with the water running so nobody could hear me breathing weird while i was hyperventilating. I thought that was it, like ok it's over now.. haha.. but it wasn't.. It just kind of moved inside me.

So I decided to be perfect. I gott straight As, tried my best to never get in trouble, I never even asked for anything... so I figured if I was perfect nobody would look too close.. or judge me.. I was 10 and that was my whole wonderful plan..

I remember a lady came to school and talked about body safety. Your body belongs to you, no grown up should ask you to keep a secret about touching, if they do tell someone and it's never your fault and all that stuff and I know people would think I felt relieved but I didn't. I felt sick to my stomach.. because I thought well I didn't tell and I didn't fight so I guess it was my fault.. I remmeber picking at the carpet so hard I made a bald spot and decided I was never telling anyone ever.

So that Christmas he came back for the holidays and I put the thermometer on the radiator so I'd have a fever and could stay in my room. Mom said I was being rude and I just let her think that since that was just easier to explain..

As my body started changing ..I hated it so much. I wore my brother's hoodies every day even in summer. When grown men looked at me I'd go cold all over.. and there were so many of them.. this one time while i was running in the park with my earbuds in this guy just held me and dry humped and groped me for like a minute or two and i just stood there frozen after which he just ran away.. it was around evening and a bit dark so there wasnt even anyone....and i felt so scared.. i was 12 back then and whenever i would see that park thereafter i would start hyperventilating..

This one time at the mall some guy walked past wearing the same aftershave as my uncle and I just wasn't there anymore.. I was 8 years old again starting at the ceiling.. When I came back I remember being crouched behind a rack of coats with no idea how I got there and my mom was calling me. I said I dropped an earring. I genuinely thought I was going crazy...

In school eventually everyone started talking about crushes and who held hands with who and I felt like an alien.. Like I was 100 years old.. I felt dirty in a way showers didn't fix and I was sure if anyone really saw me they'd be disgusted.. I felt disgusted at myself..

A boy grabbed my wrist in math once as a joke.. he was just trying to take my pencil. I froze and then I shoved him into a desk and ran out. I got detention for overreacting.. Not one adult asked me why.. In hindsight.. I think about that a lot now.. How many kids are sitting in detention right now and nobody's asking them why.. haha.. such a world we live in..

There were years in school I barely remember.. I woud feel numb.. I'd just disappear in class. My grades dropped for the first time ever and I started eating lunch in the library by myself..

Something I came to realise over time was.. nobody ever taught me my body was mine.. My uncle taught me the opposite, that it was something people could use and my job was to be quiet.. So when boys said gross stuff to me in the hallway I didn't think I was allowed to be mad.. If anyone got close I either froze or ran. I didn't know no was something I was allowed to say..

Some nights back then I wished I could just stop existing.. I never told anyone that either. If I could go back I would tell myself to just please tell someone. Please.. I so wish I had..

When I was 15 a boy put his arm around me at a school dance, just being friendly, and I had a full on panic attack. I thought I was dying. I ran to the bathroom and sat on the floor of a stall shaking..

My friend J found me. She didn't ask anything. She just sat down on that gross floor in her nice dress and stayed until I could breathe. I almost told her that night, it was right there, and I swallowed it.. but nobody had ever seen me fall apart and stayed before.. That day something cracked a little..

Next year, in health class the teacher wrote on the board: a child can never consent, freezing is not agreeing, and it's never the child's fault. I can't explain what that did to me.. For 9 years I'd been telling myself it was my fault because I froze. And here's an adult saying my body did what bodies do to survive..

I walked out of class straight to the counselor's office and said it. Out loud. First time ever. My voice didn't even sound like mine..

She believed me... she didn't gasp, she didn't ask if I was sure.. She just said thank you for telling me, this is not your fault.. I honestly don't know where I'd be if she'd reacted any other way..

She had to report it, which was terrifying.. My mom held me on the kitchen floor and kept saying I'm so sorry baby, I'm so sorry I didn't see it. Some of my family stopped talking to us. My grandma said I made it up for attention. My own grandma.. We are now estranged from a big part of our family..

I started seeing a therapist who works with people like me. She gave me words for stuff.. The ceiling thing is dissociation.. The aftershave thing is a trigger. The freezing and running is my nervous system still stuck on danger even though the danger's gone. She said none of it means I'm crazy, it means I survived. I made her say it twice..

It got worse before it got better. The nightmares came back. Then I got so angry. At him, at every adult who saw the signs and said phase, at myself.. I remember ignoring being groped in tight public places like bus sometimes when i would go with my brother for groceries... from boys in class from behind.. and just freezing and not .. just not saying anything..

For me anything to do with sex was just fear and shame all mixed together.. Even a health class talk about relationships could make me leave the room.. My therapist said I could work on it slowly, at my own pace.

She helped me practice saying no. I have a friend who hugs everyone hello and one day, shaking, I asked him not to hug me.. He just said oh yeah of course, and never did it again. He waves now. I cried in my car for 20 minutes after that. It was the first time I said no and someone just listened..

So I about to start college this year hopefully and I'm with someone for the first time.. He's really kind and patient and I told him early because my therapist helped me get ready... I was so sure he'd leave. He asked what do you need from me and i realised nobody's ever asked me that... i just hugged him and sobbed for what felt like hours..

It's still hard now, I'm not going to lie. Sometimes when we're close something small happens, like a certain touch or the room going dark, and I'm back on the ceiling. The first time I had sex with him. ..I cried for an hour, because he'd done everything right he was just the nicest most fun.. and it was like my uncle was still in the room.. 11 years later and he's still in the room just haunting me... I felt dirty and like he didnt deserve someone broken like me..

So we just went slow.. but atleast now I can say stop whenever, for any reason, I don't have to explain, and he stops every single time.. No sighing, no guilt trip, he just asks if I want water. My therapist says closeness only feels safe when you know you can leave and I think she's right. I wish someone had taught me that at 7.. I wish someone had taught him that.

I go to a group now with other survivors and it's the only place I don't feel like a freak.. I learned that some of them can't stand being touched at all.. and some ended up with people who never let them say no.. and it still horrifies me.. while some feel nothing... andothers feel ashamed even when everything's fine... i learned that many of us develop unusual hypersexual desires.. I think that's when I finally got it, there's no right way to react to this.. None of us are broken.. atleast on the outside.. we didn't do anything wrong. its just hard to believe that sometimes..

I've learned that sexual assault can affect people in ways that aren't often talked about.. One of them is that some survivors become hypersexual afterward, with a much higher sex drive or with sexual fantasies that feel intense, intrusive, or unlike who they are. Knowing this has helped me see that I'm not alone and that nothing is "wrong" with me for having these experiences.

Yet.. I don't like the way this desire sometimes shows up.. the way it can come on suddenly and feel out of my control. At times it seems disconnected from what I actually want, and it can leave me feeling confused, ashamed, or uncomfortable in my own body. I want to understand where these feelings come from and find healthier ways to cope with them, so that my sexuality feels like my own again, on my own terms..

Ok I think that's everything.. Or most of it.. atleast..

I'm crying so hard right now and i just feel so broken.. hopefully i can someday feel whole again... Im just gonna post this before I chicken out..

So my parents got a divorce when i was 8, and my mom lost custody of my because she was charged with substance abuse. So this meant my dad had full custody of me.

I think he started to get an attraction for me a year later, I'd catch him looking at my body, and later this turned into him touching me on a regular basis. Like he'd kiss me on the lips and rub my thighs and sometimes all the way up my skirt.

I didn't think much of it and just thought he was playing around.

Later on this evolved into games involving me being less clothed or sometimes just naked.

He used these games as an excuse to involve me in sexual activities. I was being forced to give and recieve oral and soon enough later i lost my virginity.

Looking back, i know how sick of a person he was but he left me with scars that cannot be healed

Ive been dealing with my mother being sexual with me for my whole life. She used to molest me during diaper change. She abandoned me for 2 weeks at a random baby sitter who practiced black magic on me. She had sex in the same room while i was sleeping and was yelling my name like i was her partner. She has multiple times rubbed her body on me, including today. Im crying out for help desperately. I cant get get to stop and im so traumatized i have severe ptsd. So much has happened that i can't even put it all here. Ive talked to therapists and they just say i should try to move on. But it keeps happening. Even that i moved out at 18 she would stalk me and call, email text and even call police to get to me. I even moved to a different state and she still stalked me. What do i do?

Everything that happened to me messed me up so bad. I can’t have a normal relationship. I don’t know how to be loved. I’m such a people pleaser it’s disgusting. The messed up things I need sexually just make me feel ashamed. I don’t know how to function. It doesn’t ever get better… you only learn new messed up things about yourself that the trauma left you.

Puberty was heavily traumatic for me, i was already being consistently abused my by stepfather (my mother’s boyfriend… and now recently husband) when my mom told me it made sense he felt atracted to me because i reached puberty earlier than normal. Honestly i cant understand why would she say thay.. even if she didn’t have the mother instinct to protect me why would she want her husband to abuse me? Anyway, that not the point.

She said i had puberty earlier than normal which was a lie. She used to wax my whole body including private area before i had hair, and she would force me to stay still and stand the pain while my stepdad stared at us. I was naturally deeply ashamed of being seen naked, but i couldn’t do nothing about it. Now looking back at this memories its so confusing to me why she did this.

She would also shower me and scratch my body with her nails when she was angry, this happened at least until age 12. It was implied she touch me and do whatever she wanted with my body because being my mother. It disgusts me now.. and it’s shocking, because there was of course natural pudor from my side but i couldn’t express it and i didn’t doubt she had the right to do this things to me