The truth about my mother
I am coming to grips with the fact that I endured years of covert sexual abuse at the hands of my mother. I have read so many survivor stories, now, and while all of them are filled with the worst of humanity, I’ve felt like an imposter being here, even though i resonated with so many of the feelings and experiences described. The first clue to the puzzle was paying attention to the fact that the stories of abuse at the hands of a mother, by far, make me the angriest.
In putting the pieces together with my T, I am finally willing to say out loud that not only did my mother commit narcissistic emotional abuse throughout my life, but subjected me to the sinister nature of covert sexual abuse
by having few to no boundaries with me.
As a preteen, she once told me, in public, that she was sure I’d grow up to be “just like her when it came to sex: never able to get enough.” She would mail me treacle-sweet Valentine’s Day cards professing her undying love, every year well into my 20’s. Around the age of 11 or 12, she invited me to have a sleepover in her bed when it was just us in the house, which I agreed to, not knowing any better, even though it felt weird that she would ask.
She was a serial monogamist and undiagnosed sex addict and I remember being about 10 and going with her and one of her boyfriends to his condo, where she immediately pointed out the boyfriend’s stash of pornography and encouraged both my self and my 13-year-old, elder brother to go through them and “learn” about sex.
Throughout my life she’s always identified me as “hers” and told me that she was and would always be my “home.”
All of this while making me responsible for her emotional well being and happiness with a constantly moving bar.
I will eventually tell my whole story in the Stories forum, but for now, i just want to comment on the most insidious part of all this: because there is no overt incident - no inappropriate sexual contact - she can deny what she did to me.
I have thought for years I was crazy, that I was just making a big deal out of nothing. Now I know, moms don’t behave this way or say these things to their sons.
Like many of the men here, my abuse led to all kinds of sexual acting out as a child and teen but I never could put a finger on the abuse that got me there. I’m relieved to have a name for it, and I’m pissed that it happened to me.
In putting the pieces together with my T, I am finally willing to say out loud that not only did my mother commit narcissistic emotional abuse throughout my life, but subjected me to the sinister nature of covert sexual abuse
by having few to no boundaries with me.
As a preteen, she once told me, in public, that she was sure I’d grow up to be “just like her when it came to sex: never able to get enough.” She would mail me treacle-sweet Valentine’s Day cards professing her undying love, every year well into my 20’s. Around the age of 11 or 12, she invited me to have a sleepover in her bed when it was just us in the house, which I agreed to, not knowing any better, even though it felt weird that she would ask.
She was a serial monogamist and undiagnosed sex addict and I remember being about 10 and going with her and one of her boyfriends to his condo, where she immediately pointed out the boyfriend’s stash of pornography and encouraged both my self and my 13-year-old, elder brother to go through them and “learn” about sex.
Throughout my life she’s always identified me as “hers” and told me that she was and would always be my “home.”
All of this while making me responsible for her emotional well being and happiness with a constantly moving bar.
I will eventually tell my whole story in the Stories forum, but for now, i just want to comment on the most insidious part of all this: because there is no overt incident - no inappropriate sexual contact - she can deny what she did to me.
I have thought for years I was crazy, that I was just making a big deal out of nothing. Now I know, moms don’t behave this way or say these things to their sons.
Like many of the men here, my abuse led to all kinds of sexual acting out as a child and teen but I never could put a finger on the abuse that got me there. I’m relieved to have a name for it, and I’m pissed that it happened to me.