Well it's complicated. It really is.
It lies back a couple of years, when I was 9 or 10 years old. I can't remember to be honest.
My mom was gone for the weekend, and so I was alone at home with my dad. In the evening, he called me into the living room, so we could watch a movie together, to which I happily agreed. He works all day, and I rarely saw him.
So to have a whole weekend with him, was the greatest thing ever. I thought.
He called me over, and I sat down on the couch. He sat next to me, and began to zap through the programs, but couldn't find anything that is worth to watch. And everything that was good, already started. So he did something I didn't expect. He turned to a porn channel.
When I asked, why he did that, his answer was "I though you wanted to make a mens evening?"
I quietly agreed, because I was just 9 or 10 years old, and didn't want to oppose my father. So I sat there, quietly watching the porn, with him next to me, until he suddenly starts talking about my school.
I was bullied at the time, and one of the many reasons why was because, well, we were experiencing our first sexual.... things.
One big issue was the penis size. No one actually knew how long anyone's thing was, but, you know, we where kids. And to tell someone, they had a small penis was a big insult at the time.
Well, my father asked me what the main thing was, that they bullied me with. I explained to him, that it was because of my small penis. (which is completely normal sized, but I was a kid and stupid)
He told me to show him.
I was a kid. And I had no idea why. But I trusted him, and unzipped my pants. He looked at it, and touched it, and told me it was totally normal sized. It all would be good, if it would've stopped there.
Suddenly he bows down, and blew me. It was painful, and I began crying. when I told him to stop, he (thankfully) actually stopped, and asked why. I asked him why he does this. His answer:
He was cleaning the thing.
He ordered me to lay back, completely onto the couch. I did it. He continued. I grabbed the pillow next to me, and had to bite on it, because of the pain. I cried out, and told him to stop. He didn't.
He continued to blow me, for i dont know how long, until it was to much. I screamed at him to stop, and, thank god, he did. He went of, and I ran into my room.
That was the end of that night. Thinking about it now, it wasn't as bad as others had it. But for me, this single night destroyed my trust, and respect for my father.
3 or 4 years later. I remembered the night here and there again, but managed to ignore it most of the time. Until my mother picked me up from school. We were driving home, and on the way she told me, that she would be gone for the weekend. Memories came back. That night came back.
I was nervous when I told her, that it was ok. She looked through my facade like glas. She asked me, if I'm fine, and after 3 or 4 years of silence... I told her.
I left some things out, and vaguely explained what happened. She told me to talk to my father about that, and that, if this should be true, she will leave him. I didn't want that. I didn't want my family to be destroyed because of one night. She locked me in a room with him, and I explained what happened. He didn't knew what I was talking about, and said that it never happened, and that he isn't a pedophile.
After that, my mother, he and me talked all three about it. And after a long talk, they came to the conclusion, that it must've been a dream. Nobody, not even me could believe that what happened was actually true.
So I just told, that it was a bad dream, and carried on with my life. Nobody of us ever talked about this again. Until now.
Maybe it will get better now. Maybe the memories wont come back that frequently now. Maybe it will help.
It lies back a couple of years, when I was 9 or 10 years old. I can't remember to be honest.
My mom was gone for the weekend, and so I was alone at home with my dad. In the evening, he called me into the living room, so we could watch a movie together, to which I happily agreed. He works all day, and I rarely saw him.
So to have a whole weekend with him, was the greatest thing ever. I thought.
He called me over, and I sat down on the couch. He sat next to me, and began to zap through the programs, but couldn't find anything that is worth to watch. And everything that was good, already started. So he did something I didn't expect. He turned to a porn channel.
When I asked, why he did that, his answer was "I though you wanted to make a mens evening?"
I quietly agreed, because I was just 9 or 10 years old, and didn't want to oppose my father. So I sat there, quietly watching the porn, with him next to me, until he suddenly starts talking about my school.
I was bullied at the time, and one of the many reasons why was because, well, we were experiencing our first sexual.... things.
One big issue was the penis size. No one actually knew how long anyone's thing was, but, you know, we where kids. And to tell someone, they had a small penis was a big insult at the time.
Well, my father asked me what the main thing was, that they bullied me with. I explained to him, that it was because of my small penis. (which is completely normal sized, but I was a kid and stupid)
He told me to show him.
I was a kid. And I had no idea why. But I trusted him, and unzipped my pants. He looked at it, and touched it, and told me it was totally normal sized. It all would be good, if it would've stopped there.
Suddenly he bows down, and blew me. It was painful, and I began crying. when I told him to stop, he (thankfully) actually stopped, and asked why. I asked him why he does this. His answer:
He was cleaning the thing.
He ordered me to lay back, completely onto the couch. I did it. He continued. I grabbed the pillow next to me, and had to bite on it, because of the pain. I cried out, and told him to stop. He didn't.
He continued to blow me, for i dont know how long, until it was to much. I screamed at him to stop, and, thank god, he did. He went of, and I ran into my room.
That was the end of that night. Thinking about it now, it wasn't as bad as others had it. But for me, this single night destroyed my trust, and respect for my father.
3 or 4 years later. I remembered the night here and there again, but managed to ignore it most of the time. Until my mother picked me up from school. We were driving home, and on the way she told me, that she would be gone for the weekend. Memories came back. That night came back.
I was nervous when I told her, that it was ok. She looked through my facade like glas. She asked me, if I'm fine, and after 3 or 4 years of silence... I told her.
I left some things out, and vaguely explained what happened. She told me to talk to my father about that, and that, if this should be true, she will leave him. I didn't want that. I didn't want my family to be destroyed because of one night. She locked me in a room with him, and I explained what happened. He didn't knew what I was talking about, and said that it never happened, and that he isn't a pedophile.
After that, my mother, he and me talked all three about it. And after a long talk, they came to the conclusion, that it must've been a dream. Nobody, not even me could believe that what happened was actually true.
So I just told, that it was a bad dream, and carried on with my life. Nobody of us ever talked about this again. Until now.
Maybe it will get better now. Maybe the memories wont come back that frequently now. Maybe it will help.