I don’t remember a time when it wasn’t happening. I suppose that doesn’t mean it always did. Maybe I was safe when I was a baby. I don’t know.
It was mostly at bathtime. I can’t understand why my mom never thought it was weird that my dad insisted on giving me my bath every night. She bathed my sisters so maybe it was a boy/boy girl/girl thing. Still, I don’t know any of my friends whose dad gave them baths. I remember some of the other moms saying to my mom how lucky she was to have such a “hands on” husband.
That’s one way to put it.
He coached all my teams, he chaperoned field trips. My buddies all loved him. He could be really fun and he was great with kids. I don’t know if that was an act or if he really liked doing those things. It’s hard to tell what was real.
He was never mean about it. That sounds so stupid as I’m looking at those words. I don’t think he was trying to hurt me is what I guess I mean. He asked me all the time if it felt good and the truth is it did sometimes. That made it so much more confusing. Sometimes when I hear about someone’s abuse being painful I’m almost jealous. I know that probably seems crazy. I just mean if it had been I would have known for sure it was wrong. It stopped when I was about 13.
I never told anyone until college. My roommate told me about his sister being abused and I blurted out that I had been too. I wanted to take it back as soon as the words came out. He was really nice about it but it made things weird afterward.
I’m married and we don’t have kids. I definitely don’t want to. I don’t know if that’s connected to what happened to me or not. My wife doesn’t want kids either but I worry that will change or that she’ll get to a point where she thinks she’s missing out on something. I thought I had put it all behind me but I am beginning to wonder if maybe I need to get some help. I just want to live a happy life.