October 25, 2021
I was reading a thread about how old women were when men began to make them feel uncomfortable...
I was nine. My dad's cousin had been staying with us. One night he was babysitting. He told me I could stay up late if I sat next to him to watch TV. So, I did. Nothing happened. Then it was time for me to go to bed per the agreement. He waited for me to get changed and into bed. Then as I was about to turn off my lamp, he came into my room and laid down next to me. Even though I was under the covers, he ran his hands over my body. I didn't move, but I said, "I don't like this. You should go." So, he did. I never told anyone about it, and it never happened again.
As a teenager, I was warned Uncle Arthur was handsy. I managed to avoid him.
My stepmother's father caught me by the arm one day and asked why I never talked to him. I made up some excuse, but he pulled me closer, ran his other hand over my chest, and tried to kiss me, but I turned my head. He was a big man, and I was terrified. Thinking about that now makes me sick to my stomach. I never told anyone about that either.
Not me, but my paternal grandfather raped my aunt. She got pregnant. My cousin is named after my grandfather. I didn't learn this until I was in my 40s.
Add in the thousands of brush-bys, ass slaps, bra pops, and crude comments.
Then, the ultimate betrayal was when my then-husband sexually assaulted his own daughter and stepson. This has been the most difficult issue I've ever had to work through. I can't say I'll ever be done with it...
Generational trauma. Hurt people, hurt people. I know I've done my fair share of hurting, but it was never, ever sexual.
I'm not sure how to end this entry. I feel sick and defeated: still