My story, the beginning of it [Trigger warning]


I learned in the welcome message that I should post in this forum instead of the Survivor Stories forum, so here is my story again.

Not sure where to start, probably from the beginning. It's still hard to write it down, and it took me a few days to write all this, here we go. Growing up I was raised by a single mother. My dad ran off as soon as he learned my mother was pregnant, she hated him (and probably all adult men) with passion. She often said things like "that a**hole f*cker who knocked me up and ran away". She treated me like trash all the time, it was all about her, I was useless unless she wanted something, then she could be super-sweet. Since I could remember she was a heavy drinker, overly touchy, hugging me, kissing me, and touching me when I didn't want to all the time. When nobody else was around, she would often use vulgar words like tits. Once she had enough drinks, the hugging and kissing would change to touching me between my legs, making me to touch her boobs and similar.

And she would often be naked around the house. I remember seeing her often topless till I was 15,16. This aroused me and she knew it. She always maintained a triangle of pubic hair, and she would make sure I see it from time to time. And she insisted on giving me a bath often all trough my childhood. She would wash and rub certain parts of my body very long and "accidentially" push her boob against my face and such.

I'm sure what she did to me qualifies as rape and abuse. As you can imagine, my childhood was extremely complicated, and what started as unwanted, violating, and confusing feeling eventually (over the course of a few years) turned into a relationship that I somehow enjoyed and valued in an irrational way as my mother did. What broke me, mentally, was that I seemed to enjoy it. At least that's what I told myself again and again. I got an erection so I must enjoy it, right? My soul was crushed and wanted to run away, but my body did function when she touched me, and I blamed myself because it can't be wrong, otherwise my body would not function in the way it functioned when touched. In a very weird way, I felt like a real man, my mom could have anyone but I was her man, like an adult. Which, ironically, was the opposite of what she wanted.

From when I was around 12 she started to take me with her to parties or go out regulary for dinner with me on the weekends. We always went to a little bistro, which was split in the middle, one half was a bar and the other half an italian "restaurant". The owners were an very old couple, he worked in the bar and she in the restaurant part. They were known for still serving people alcohol when they were already asleep at the bar. My mother would pretend I'm a full grown adult, talking to me like to an adult, knocking back Wine after Wine, and touching me under the table. At the end of the night my mother would be completely lit and drive home with me, and then demand I help her to bed and sleep in her bed where she would play with my penis, kiss me and touch me everywhere. I could always check how drunk she was on the way to the car, I would notice it by the extra careful way she walked, the silly smile and the staring into the distance to a point somewhere on the wall above my head when we left the restaurant or the house of one of her friends where she was drinking for hours with them while I played video games. She never got a DUI, because, Woman can't do any harm and would never do anything wrong (sarcasm). And the scratches and bumps in her car came all from other people being stupid in the parking lot of the store.

Unfortunately, it seems I remember many many days with episodes like this, where I wanted nothing else than just to die and get out, regardless of how much I try to forget.

My Story

Thank you for sharing @lotr crazy stuff you had to endure. I too recently posted about having to share my mother and step-father's bedroom for four years, why some moms do what they do to their sons is beyond me.
Having read many stories in different forums of MS I'm shocked at how many forms sexual abuse can take and how many families act out this distorted sexuality without regard to how it will affect children. One can only assume this is what they grew up with, so they don't know the difference. I believe sexual abuse is much more prevalent than we recognize. It runs through families from generation to generation. I know my experience as a boy from ages three to seven was with one such family... three generations from grandfather, his three sons and their many boys, all of whom took pleasure in my naivety. Fortunately, my parents moved shortly after I'd been anally raped, so I was removed from that distorted web of promiscuity. The damage had been done, however, and it has taken a lifetime to come to terms with it all.

I'm sorry you experienced the things you did lotr... and I'm glad you found MS. We're all here to heal those early wounds and we do it together. All the best on your healing journey.


Hi lotr, and welcome. I am sorry for what happened to you, what your mother did to you -- took from you. It should not have happened. It was not your fault. You said something powerful that resonates with me, resonates with my story, and I'm going to keep it close to heart.

"My soul was crushed and wanted to run away, but my body did function when she touched me, and I blamed myself because it can't be wrong, otherwise my body would not function in the way it functioned when touched." You are correct. It is soul-crushing, but hang in here at MS and you'll see soon enough that it can, and it does get better. It really does get better.

All my best,