First Abuse Experience

First Abuse Experience

Tbowe081

Registrant
My first experience with sexual abuse was when I was twelve. It was July 1961. Three of my grandparents had died in the previous three months. I was unaware of how much their departure from my life impacted me. My mother’s father had been a rock for me in what was for me a challenging family experience. Some of my family members were dealing with undiagnosed bipolar disorder. My father was coping with his bipolarity by turning to alcohol, smoking cigarettes and taking naps. When he was in his right mind, he was clear headed and hardworking. When he was struggling, he was irritable, self-absorbed, and inflexible. He was not available to be there for me. My mother had just given birth to my youngest brother, and she was unavailable for support.

I did not have a clear sense of who I was in the world. I felt like my survival depended on getting the approval of my parents and teachers. The structure of the school regimen and the validation I got by doing well in school helped me cope. My internal life was out of my reach. I could not put words on what I was going through. I wasn’t aware of anyone in my life who talked about their feelings. My internal life was an undiscovered country.

In the middle of all this, one of my friends from Scouts invited me for a sleep over. He was about a year old than I was. We weren't close friends. We had only a passing connection through Scouts. We decided to sleep out under the stars. It was a beautiful night. We just put our sleeping bags down on the grass in his backyard without a tent. It was very dry in that area in the summer and there was no chance or rain or morning dew. We talked for a while, and we went to sleep. I woke up in the night to find that my friend was fondling me sexually. It startled me. It felt good, but it also felt wrong. Even though it felt wrong, I reciprocated. I was on the verge of puberty, and I did not have any pubic hair. As I touched him, I could feel the hair on his balls. It occurred to me that I would soon have hair on my balls. I had seen other boys with pubic hair, but somehow this forthcoming change in my body became a reality when I touched him. We only spent a few minutes fondling each other before we went back to sleep. No words were exchanged at the time and we never spoke about what happen afterward.

As I have thought about what happened, my impression was that he had been abused by his brothers, and that he planned our overnight stay to do to me what had been done to him. I was left with the experience of being violated and a feeling that I had dug myself into a pit by reciprocating. The effect of the experience was that I became aware of sexual feelings that were there to be awakened by touch. I felt there was something wrong with feeling these feelings. Even so, I wanted more.
 
I would suspect that you are correct in that he had been abused himself and what took place was not random. Sexual investigation etc. is normal but this does not fall into that category.

I became aware of sexual feelings that were there to be awakened by touch
Yes- I know what you mean- my abuse started early in my life- I was fondled and orally copulated- it can't help but feel good- as we know that is how our bodies are designed. Then of course the conflicting feelings of what took place not being right and yet the desire for more of those pleasurable sensations.
 
As I have thought about what happened, my impression was that he had been abused by his brothers, and that he planned our overnight stay to do to me what had been done to him. I was left with the experience of being violated and a feeling that I had dug myself into a pit by reciprocating. The effect of the experience was that I became aware of sexual feelings that were there to be awakened by touch. I felt there was something wrong with feeling these feelings. Even so, I wanted more.
Yeah - I'm way too familiar with this scenario - sadly, on both sides of it. I'm so sorry that happened to you. I've heard someone define sexual abuse in terms of both the traditional definition and also in terms of not being emotionally and / or physiologicaly ready for it. You were not ready for that to happen to you. You didn't ask for it. You didn't consent to it.

I experienced years of daytime sexual abuse, but I probably had this nighttime scenario happen to me way more frequently, and from a younger age than the waking incidents. It went on from probably when I was an infant until the last incident when I was 13. I remembered in 2023 or 2024 that this happened often to me. Funny how we can forget what later seems so obvious. I would go to bed hours before my parents when I was young, and on nights when I knew my mom was out of the house, or if I knew she had gone to bed before my father, I would lie there awake for hours - dreading and fretting my father coming into my room instead of going into his own. Their room was right next to mine so you would think my mom would have caught on. But... my mom had moderate hearing loss and no hearing aids - so she was never aware he was doing this.

I have almost no recollection of what he actually did when he came in to my room - because I pretended to be asleep, and I completely dissociated every time. I mentally went somewhere else - usually floating or flying away like a bird (it felt really good to float / fly). But the body keeps the score of what's happening - even if you dissociate.

Because he did this from when I was so young, and I dissociated what happened - I had a desperate internal compulsion to reenact that trauma after puberty hit. I had SO much guilt and shame about it. I knew it was wrong, I didn't want to do it. And yet.... I was 11 and couldn't tell anyone about the abuse (still) being perpetrated on me. There was zero help from anyone to stop the abuse, or to help me.

Anyway... thank you for being courageous enough to share this.
 
Scouts was a source of sexual exeriences for many of us it seems. I had early sexual experiences with other scouts, significant activity with an older scout and fondled and groped by a scout master. At the time I didn't see them as wrong but looking back I realise that they peaked my sexual interests, possibly a few years earlier than they should have. This led me exposed to the man who raped me and then to another man who groomed and abused me for a longer period. I think the early experiences and the abuse left me hyper sexual and I would be vulnerable to any approaches.
 
In the middle of all this, one of my friends from Scouts invited me for a sleep over. He was about a year old than I was. We weren't close friends. We had only a passing connection through Scouts. We decided to sleep out under the stars. It was a beautiful night. We just put our sleeping bags down on the grass in his backyard without a tent. It was very dry in that area in the summer and there was no chance or rain or morning dew. We talked for a while, and we went to sleep. I woke up in the night to find that my friend was fondling me sexually. It startled me. It felt good, but it also felt wrong. Even though it felt wrong, I reciprocated. I was on the verge of puberty, and I did not have any pubic hair. As I touched him, I could feel the hair on his balls. It occurred to me that I would soon have hair on my balls. I had seen other boys with pubic hair, but somehow this forthcoming change in my body became a reality when I touched him. We only spent a few minutes fondling each other before we went back to sleep. No words were exchanged at the time and we never spoke about what happen afterward.

As I have thought about what happened, my impression was that he had been abused by his brothers, and that he planned our overnight stay to do to me what had been done to him. I was left with the experience of being violated and a feeling that I had dug myself into a pit by reciprocating. The effect of the experience was that I became aware of sexual feelings that were there to be awakened by touch. I felt there was something wrong with feeling these feelings. Even so, I wanted more.
Hi- I would go easy on yourself and try to forgive yourself and your friend. Aside from failing to ask for consent (it seems he subjected to similar treatment?) he acted out with you but fortunately didn't seem to take it too far. I think sometimes our sense of abuse comes from what society tells us we should feel about a particular experience. If it was against your will then that is a different story. In my case I found that some of my confusion and self-loathing about experiences came from the reflection I got from social messages. I "shouldn't" experience A or B or enjoy A or B and if I felt anything like pleasure then it was wrong and I was wrong. I found this was part of the lingering damage/trauma.
 
Scouts was a source of sexual exeriences for many of us it seems. I had early sexual experiences with other scouts, significant activity with an older scout and fondled and groped by a scout master. At the time I didn't see them as wrong but looking back I realise that they peaked my sexual interests, possibly a few years earlier than they should have. This led me exposed to the man who raped me and then to another man who groomed and abused me for a longer period. I think the early experiences and the abuse left me hyper sexual and I would be vulnerable to any approaches.
Gomers, Your comment that "the abuse left me hyper sexual" rings true for me. I use the term sexualize to describe what it was like for me to be hyper sexual. My abuse experience resulted in me sexualizing my male peers. I was in the Order of the Arrow and we made native American costumes. When we gathered together in our native American clothing, the other boys in my mind were sexy with their shirts off and their legs exposed. It didn't stop there. If I looked at a National Geographic magazine, I paged through to find men from cultures that wore little or no clothing and sexualized them. In looking through a Sears catalog, I sexualized the men who modeled underwear. When I went to high school and I was in the locker room and showers with other young men, I sexualized them. It seemed like I had a kind of radar that was tuned into my peers in a way that I made them into objects of sexual desire. Fortunately, now I can notice when I start to do sexualize other men or boys and I can interrupt the pattern. It still takes vigilance and commitment to prevent myself from going down that rabbit hole.
 
Yeah - I'm way too familiar with this scenario - sadly, on both sides of it. I'm so sorry that happened to you. I've heard someone define sexual abuse in terms of both the traditional definition and also in terms of not being emotionally and / or physiologicaly ready for it. You were not ready for that to happen to you. You didn't ask for it. You didn't consent to it.

I experienced years of daytime sexual abuse, but I probably had this nighttime scenario happen to me way more frequently, and from a younger age than the waking incidents. It went on from probably when I was an infant until the last incident when I was 13. I remembered in 2023 or 2024 that this happened often to me. Funny how we can forget what later seems so obvious. I would go to bed hours before my parents when I was young, and on nights when I knew my mom was out of the house, or if I knew she had gone to bed before my father, I would lie there awake for hours - dreading and fretting my father coming into my room instead of going into his own. Their room was right next to mine so you would think my mom would have caught on. But... my mom had moderate hearing loss and no hearing aids - so she was never aware he was doing this.

I have almost no recollection of what he actually did when he came in to my room - because I pretended to be asleep, and I completely dissociated every time. I mentally went somewhere else - usually floating or flying away like a bird (it felt really good to float / fly). But the body keeps the score of what's happening - even if you dissociate.

Because he did this from when I was so young, and I dissociated what happened - I had a desperate internal compulsion to reenact that trauma after puberty hit. I had SO much guilt and shame about it. I knew it was wrong, I didn't want to do it. And yet.... I was 11 and couldn't tell anyone about the abuse (still) being perpetrated on me. There was zero help from anyone to stop the abuse, or to help me.

Anyway... thank you for being courageous enough to share this.
MO-Survivor, It feels good to have you read my post and comment. Thank you for saying, "I'm so sorry that happened to you." When I was 12, I didn't how I thought about my sexual feelings, or how to manage them. Looking back there is room for compassion. Thank you for expressing yours. My purpose in sharing my experiences is to claim my life that was either lost in abusive experiences or muddle by them. The way I look at it, I either own my story or it owns me. My version of dissociation is that I have resisted expressing what happened. I find that the more I resist expressing what happened the more what happened persists to trigger me into reenactment. For me, courage is taking action in the face of fear. Happily, this site occurs as safe to me, and I can share without anxiety. I share with the hope that it will contribute to my own healing, that the connection and authenticity I lost in abusive experiences can be found in being heard, and that perhaps what I say will be of value to someone else.
 
I would suspect that you are correct in that he had been abused himself and what took place was not random. Sexual investigation etc. is normal but this does not fall into that category.


Yes- I know what you mean- my abuse started early in my life- I was fondled and orally copulated- it can't help but feel good- as we know that is how our bodies are designed. Then of course the conflicting feelings of what took place not being right and yet the desire for more of those pleasurable sensations.
GaD3, thank you for your taking the time to read, reflect on and respond to my post. You comment that "our bodies are designed" to have "pleasurable sensations" associated with our reproductive parts is a good perspective. The perspective that was missing at the time was, "I am not my sensations." In my sense of personal confusion about who I was, my experience of those sensations provided me with a new view of who I might be. There was an unconscious investigation into whether those sensations held a key to my own experience of an empowered sense of myself. At this time in my life, I am not wondering how those feelings fit in into who I am. Now I realize that I have feelings and I am not my feelings. I can enjoy my feelings, and they do not define me, and they do not control me. I am grateful for this new view.
 
Hi- I would go easy on yourself and try to forgive yourself and your friend. Aside from failing to ask for consent (it seems he subjected to similar treatment?) he acted out with you but fortunately didn't seem to take it too far. I think sometimes our sense of abuse comes from what society tells us we should feel about a particular experience. If it was against your will then that is a different story. In my case I found that some of my confusion and self-loathing about experiences came from the reflection I got from social messages. I "shouldn't" experience A or B or enjoy A or B and if I felt anything like pleasure then it was wrong and I was wrong. I found this was part of the lingering damage/trauma.
Kevin, thank you for your concern. After this incident, I didn't consciously make myself wrong or make my friend wrong. Two more times we slept together. Both times it was on a Scout trip. Once two years after this incident and once four years after this incident. On those Scout trips, I was the aggressor. It was as if his touching me when I was twelve gave me permission to touch him when I was 14 and again when I was 16. It felt like my aggression was an expression of resentment that he had defiled me. He was compliant in response to my overtures. I opened his fly and stimulated him to the point that he ejaculated. I enjoyed dominating him, and I felt no regret. This became a pattern in my relationships with other boys. It wasn't frequent, but I was insensitive to how they responded. I had my way with them. Sometimes they let me touch them or I touched them while they were sleeping and they didn't wake up. Others recoiled and were very upset. It was as if there was something in me driving me to dominate and abuse other boys and eventually men. It was years before I came to terms with what I did was wrong. When I accepted that what I did was wrong, I still had to deal with my inclination to reenact the abuse. In the end I avoided sleeping near other men altogether because it was just too much of a risk that I would reach over and touch them. It has been over forty years since that last time I took advantage of another man in this way. I have put distance between me and the experience, but I am humble enough to know that I still need to be careful to respect the very personal feelings that arise for men when I touch them sexually. I am committed to never again touching another man sexually without his permission.
 
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