I was subjected to a long line of...abuse? I don't know. Some of it I'd say, definitely, some of it I think was, but some would argue it. So I'll include it all and you guys can make your own judgments. The main reason I'm posting this is a different thread I read...thought maybe my own story might help. Maybe, I don't know. I was adopted as a baby, then my Mom (the Mom that raised me, if I talk about my birth-mother then I'll quantify that. Otherwise 'Mom' means the one I grew up with)...my Mom got divorced, then met & married my Dad (same thing) when I was about 3. He had 2 kids from a previous marriage, both older than me, but though I always knew I was adopted, I always have thought of them as my brother and sister, and fuck the whole 'step' business. My Dad was in the military, my Mom worked as a secretary (and other clerical-type things). Dad was completely the southern guy, born in Georgia, my brother had to call him 'sir', all that fun stuff. His way was very much the only way. I love my Dad but he is a total control freak, very rigid. I remember many times when I would get bad grades and he would start drinking. I'd go to bed, then about half hour to an hour later, he'd come tromping upstairs, throw open my door, and tell me to go down to the kitchen, where my Mom and I would sit while he lectured me for hours, drinking the whole while. The lectures were usually about how I was doing this on purpose, just to get back at him & Mom for not being my 'real' parents. Other things were brought up too (obviously, hard to go for hours on just one subject), but that was the recurrent theme. I was doing it TO them. It wasn't because I was a kid that got bored in class or didn't feel like doing my homework, it was a deliberate ploy to hurt them, because I wasn't really part of the family. But that always drove home the point that I wasn't really part of the family in his eyes...I'd never thought of that. It was him that kept bringing it up. He is just that kind of guy. My Mom has always been more subtle. I know she loves me, but she's the kind of person that gives backhanded compliments. She might have the best motives in the world, but she's the classic, 'You aren't going out in that, are you?' type. Very judgmental (and here I am judging her...*sigh*), and always seemed to make me feel like I wasn't good enough, like there was something wrong with me but she could fix it. Of course it wasn't always like that. Nothing is ever all bad, or at least it wasn't for me. But I know it shaped me, I'm still working on myself. Okay, so on to my brother. When I was about....4? 5?...my parents went out one night and he was left to watch me. He's 7 years older than me. So he got me naked at the top of the stairs and laid on top of me...no sex, just that. I honestly don't think I was...harmed?...by that. Not compared to everything else. Nothing happened again til I was 13, and then my parents had a vacation/retirement place they would go to every month or two, and my brother (remember, I knew I was adopted. I adored my brother, and thought that since we weren't blood relations, it was different. Not so 'bad'.) gave me a massage, came on to me, got me naked, tried to kiss me....and I had to run to the bathroom and throw up. lol. I had like this...I don't know, I kind of got to calling it my 'self defense' mechanism. Anytime I started to get turned on, I would get nauseous, and if I didn't stop what I was doing right away, I would throw up. So that kind of killed the mood. A few months later, my cousins, aunt & uncle came to visit. All of us kids slept in the living room, in sleeping bags...and I woke up to find my cousin that was my age had my panties around my knees. I pulled them back up and didn't say anything, and he waited a few minutes and started whispering suggestions to me, like he thought I was asleep and would comply. I got up, moved my sleeping bag, and he apologized. That's kind of just setting the stage here. My cousin...meh. He was a kid trying to get in the pants of a kid his own age. Normal...not a desirable situation, but I do believe that kids are going to experiment, and I put him in his place, and he didn't force the issue. My brother was on a different level; if I hadn't gotten sick then he would have totally taken advantage of me, and I would have let him, and it would've been his fault. He instigated it, and he set up a seduction, and only blind luck kept him from getting what he wanted. It took me a long time to come to that viewpoint. Okay so...I wasn't a popular kid in school. I always had my nose in a book, wore glasses, my best friend left at the end of 5th grade and I had turned almost overnight into that one despised kid in middle school that everyone could pick on. There was one time that I got an F in PE (I hated running, I got breasts early and didn't like bouncing) and I was on my way home and these three kids were walking maybe 30 feet behind me, calling out insults like they always did. I turned around and mouthed the word 'bitch'...the one girl in the group caught that, and came running after me, we got in a pseudo-fight and she had one of the boys pull my glasses off my face. So I grabbed her arms and dug my fingernails in, and she hit me across the face and pushed my books into the street and I wimped out and backed out of it. That was the only 'fight' I ever got in, and to this day I hate that I didn't stand up for myself more, even if it would've meant that I got my ass kicked. Anyway, she went to my house later while I was at the neighbor's, and showed my Dad the gouges I made in her arms, and he called me home after she left and lectured me. Only when I told him about them taking my glasses off did he say 'oh well, yeah, don't let anyone do that.' And then it came out that I had an F in pe, and I got lectured about that as well. So I didn't go home that way anymore, I went the way where you have to go up a hill and down another hill, and that's when I met Warren. Hell yes I'll put his name here, I don't care. Warren Dean, iirc, though I didn't remember his last name...I only remember his middle name because he always made this joke about how he wished it were Dane instead, so he could be known as 'the Great Dane'. So I was walking down the hill by his house, and he walked up to me, said 'Wow! Wow! You are really beautiful!' Here's this guy....older guy, mid-twenties...saying wonderful things to me, making me feel good about myself for the first time in forever, yadda yadda. Of course he eventually wound up fucking me. The first time, I had just turned 14, it was Superbowl Sunday. I came home feeling queasy (that damned self-defense mechanism again) and everyone was watching the game. No one even noticed that anything was 'off' with me. I hate Superbowl Sunday, avoid it every year, even though this happened so very long ago. So I was 'with' this guy for a few months, got weirder and weirder feeling about it. Thought I was pregnant at one point when his condom broke. After a while I started going home the other way again...and a few months after that, a girl down the street talked to me, said she'd been the one before me, and that he was 'seeing' a 12 year old now. She was 15, so it was obvious he was working his way to younger and younger girls. So. sososo. I got on the pill; I didn't ever want to worry about pregnancy again. My sister helped me get it, without my parents knowing, she knew how they were and didn't realize what had been going on with me (she was married at this point, she's something like 10 years older than me). When I was 16, I'd met a boy and he came over to hang out at my house, my dad caught us in a compromising position. Not sex but pretty close. It came out that I was on the pill...he demanded to know why...I said I'd been raped, by three guys. Complete lie. I was ashamed, I was afraid they would think I was a slut, that it was my fault what happened with Warner, so I made up a scenario that had me as the victim...that I'd gone out late one night after they were fighting with my brother and had been ambushed, so to speak. My mom's response, after the resulting chaos....'Well you should never have gone out that late at night'. So....that was verification. If that story had her blaming me, then of course the truth would be...that I was to blame for that too. Even more so. I got pretty promiscuous after that. Waited til after high school to start doing drugs, at least. Got hit on a few more times by my brother, but oddly enough, it never actually got to intercourse. I would get in trouble at the dinner table (manners, not eating, w/e), and would sometimes cry, and my Dad would start in on me about how I was...a crybaby? how I needed to toughen up, or something like that. My brother would touch my leg, not in a sexual manner, just...like, 'hey I'm here. don't listen to him'. I adored him. Meh, so, looking at all of that, I can't help but think that I was set up to fail. My self esteem wasn't very healthy to start with...then having a couple family members making sexual advances to me kind of primed me for viewing myself as needing to provide sex for affection. Then Warren, that baby fucking bastard. I bet he's still doing his bit now, I tried to find information on him but I don't remember his last name. But just because the cards were stacked against me, doesn't mean I have to play with them. I've done the whole self-analysis bit. Yeah I was a victim, but I refuse to be a victim now, even of the past. They screwed me up mentally, all of them, but I can unscrew myself. That kind of doesn't sound right, lol. I love my parents. They still don't know about Warren, they still think I was actually raped. I won't tell them, because at this point I am healed enough. Telling them wouldn't help me, it would only hurt them. Now, if I could find the guy, then that would be reason enough to expose the truth...he does deserve to be held accountable. But not just to hurt them. I've forgiven them, and I can stand up to both of them now when they say things to me that are unacceptable to me. I can stop my mom in her tracks when she starts making backhanded comments, and my dad does not pull his shit with me anymore. Still, I don't have a lot to do with my family, none of them. Wish I did, kind of...but I'm kind of glad that I don't.