My Story [WARNING: likely contains triggers]

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It wasn't until my early 20s that I recalled being sexually abused when I was younger. I was at Uni and lived in Uni accommodation with other students who were doing the same course as me. I became friends with three girls in particular. After a while two of my mates and I paired off with each of the girls and we all became close friends. I'd never had sex with a girl. One of the guys was a long-time friend. We had been talking about having sex with our respective partners. I remember being very nervous about it. Anyway, the day arrived. I actually wasn't all that interested but my friend had told me about he had had sex with his girlfriend and I suppose I felt I had to. She initiated it all, I just went with where she went. It was going OK until she started having oral sex on me. It was like the memory flood gates opened. I was flooded with images, feelings, emotions. All of a sudden I didn't see her face anymore but the face of my Church music teacher. I was frightened, angry, scared, anxious, and panicked. I jumped out of bed and got very angry with her. After that, I treated her very badly and couldn't stand being in her presence. You can imagine how long that relationship lasted.

I became depressed, angry, self-loathing and started spiralling downward. I started talking to a Counsellor and fragmented memories started surfacing.

The first time I remember anything that was sexual when I was quite young I was probably only about 8 or 9. My timeline is very fractured. In trying to structure the timeline I reference places where I lived, where I went to school,, and some other events in my life. Anyway, my brother is about 5 or 6 years older than me. One day, as I said when I was about 8 or 9, he was lying on his bed, naked, and he was showing me this white sticky liquid in his hand. I don't remember much else. Actually there is an earlier fragment. Before that incident, probably less than a year before, a memory I recall what I thought at the time was him "peeing in my bum" but now I think about it is wasn't pee. The next fragment was after he'd shown me what I later learned to be his seamen. I don't recall how it all happened, what lead up to it, what I recall is being on his bed, he'd been rubbing my penis and at some point, I got this really weird feeling; it was like my whole body was spinning and made me feel really great, better than I'd ever felt. I only remember one more incident with my brother after that. I was probably around 13 and he would have been about 18 or 19. Again, I don't know what lead up to it but the fragment is I was in his bed and he was trying to get me to have oral sex with him, he said if I did him he would do the same to me.

I have trouble remembering the timing of events with my main abuser, my Church music teacher.

I was 11 when my dad died. I had never been to Church before, none of my family did. My mum asked the local minister to conduct my father's funeral. They later asked my mum if myself and my brothers and sisters wanted to go to Sunday School. She sent us (but she never went to Church, just us kids). I loved it. I really enjoyed being involved in various activities there; youth club, choir, Sunday School etc. I met some good friends there, some went to my school and some didn't.

One day, the ministers asked me if I was interested in learning and instrument and play in the band. I was pretty keen. They said one of the men in the band wanted to teach me the trumpet. I was really excited. I asked my mum and she said yes. I started taking music lessons with him; sometimes it was at my home in my bedroom, sometimes at his home in his music room, and sometimes in the Church band room. I started to really like this man. He took a lot of interest in me. Not only did he teach me music but he would take me into his woodwork shed and we'd make things. He also started to take me camping with other boys and would buy me things, like a bike. It was great.

The grooming started off very harmless; I was probably 12. During my trumpet lessons, he started doing things that would confuse me. I'm a Kiwi by birth. A traditional Maori greeting called a hongi involves one person touching noses (and sometimes foreheads) together. He used this, to begin with. He would have us touch noses and foreheads together. It felt a bit weird but I didn't think of it much. How long before that progressed, I can't say. But the next thing I remember is one day he did that then he kissed me on the forehead, nose, then eventually a full-on kiss on my lips, and later he made me open my mouth and he put his tongue in my mouth and rubbed it all around. I remember the first time it happened it made me feel 'yuck'. its hard to describe, but it wasn't nice, it didn't make me feel good at all. I think all I was thinking at the time is I wanted him to go. It was the first time I didn't want him around. After he left I was confused, I felt weird, I felt yuck and dirty. I don't know why but I never said anything to anyone.

I became a regular thing. Not only that but we were spending less time in learning the trumpet and him spending more time kissing and touching me. I don't even recall the first time he touched my penis. I remember by the time I was probably 13 he had me sitting in his lap and he would reach around and first put his hand on my penis over my shorts and later he moved on to putting his hand in my shorts and played with it until I got an erection. He made comments about my erection and told me that I must like him a lot because you only get an erection when someone does something you like. He told me it was very special.

By the time he'd started playing with my penis we were having very little trumpet practice at all. Most of the time was him trying to kiss me or touch me. This occurred in my house while my mum was home, in his house when his wife was home, and at Church. It also happened when we went camping with other boys.

There was this one time when we went camping with some boys he introduced me to. He had a trailer which not only carried our gear but also acted as a place to sleep. The first time we went he wanted me to sleep in the trailer with him. I was scared he was going to touch me so I insisted on sleeping in the tent with the other boys, he slept there with us. At one point he put his hand in my sleeping bag and into my shorts and started playing with my penis. I couldn't believe it. I thought for sure the other boys knew what he was doing. I never spoke to them. The next day there were a lot of fights between me and the other boys, one in particular really seemed to hate me, I didn't even know him.

This might have (probably) happened earlier or later than the camp incident.

He had invited me to help him clean the Church to earn some pocket money. One day we were clearning the Church. I don't recall the lead up exactly. He was talking about how God loves us all. He asked me if I love God, of course, I did. He talked about how we should show our love for each other as that was what God said we should do. How we transitioned from the conversation to the next I'm not sure. The next thing I remember is that I was on the floor in the cry room (a room at the back of the female toilets where mums could go to be with their children but still see and hear what was going on in the Church) and he had my penis in his mouth and I could feel myself about to have an orgasm. I didn't know what to do. I knew I was about to ejaculate. I want to try to stop it. But I couldn't and I ejaculated into his mouth. It was the worst feeling. I felt so ashamed, so dirty, confused, empty, anything but love. He didn't speak to me much after that. He went into the toilet to pee and told me that I should too. He said boys were supposed to pee after (he didn't even say the word) to clean out their penis. I said I couldn't go. We got into his car and he took me home. I really didn't want to ever be near him again.

After that, it became quite regular, at least once or twice a week. He looked for a lot more opportunities to be alone with me and away from my mum. One day it nearly came out.

One evening he took me driving, as was the new thing to be alone with me. We were parked in an isolated spot and he had me sit on his lap. He was masturbating me when some red and blue lights lit up. He quickly put my penis back into my shorts. A Policeman approached the car. I don't remember any of what happened. They never spoke to me. He took me home and when mum opened the door I just ran upstairs into my room. He had said he'd take care of everything. I don't know exactly what he said but my mum never came to ask me anything about what had happened. It should have stopped that night.

Things continued on. I don't know why I never said anything. I think in part because of how I began to feel about myself. I was also so confused. I did like him and I did want to see him but at the same time, I hated him and never wanted to see him. I liked it when he would spend time with me but I hated it when he would kiss and touch me or masturbate me or have oral sex with me. It came to the point that I didn't know which of the days it would be - the one where he just wanted to spend time with me doing normal stuff or a day where all he wanted was my penis. He never, that I recall, made me touch or do anything other than kiss him. I never even saw his penis. I was getting more and more withdrawn and my grades at school were going down. I got moodier and started talking back to my mum and yelling at her. I was also getting into fights with other boys and sometimes my brother and sister.

It finally stopped when he died. I was 14 I think by that time. So had probably been going on for a few years by then - although it doesn't feel like that long in memory term but had to be. I remember coming home from school and mum telling me that he had died. I don't think I had much of a reaction at all when she told me. She just left me in my room. I didn't go to the funeral. I don't ever remember being asked; people probably thought I was too young, I certainly didn't ask. It was over. I don't remember thinking anything again about it until that day at Uni when it all came back to me.

After it all came back it was really confused, depressed, angry, self-loathing, self-questioning, I had suicidal thoughts and had real problems with understanding my feelings, especially my sexual feelings and attraction to others, I didn't even understand my sexuality.

One of the biggest issues for me to process later on was the 'why me'. This also linked to issues of my sexuality. See at the time he was doing this I was also very sexually active with male friends of mine. That all started off with games of truth or dare - which got more daring and eventually became sexual. I started to have a lot of sexual encounters with my friends from school, youth group, and around the neighbourhood etc. any time there was an opportunity. I took games way beyond truth or dare to actually looking for opportunities to have sex with my friends. I found a lot of my friends were interest in open to having mutual sex sessions. This, of course, later lead me to think he knew I was gay and that's why he targeted me. Though of course, I would never have described myself as gay. I didn't even know the word, gay. It was never something talked about when I was at school. It was never part of the school or home conversations. Heck back then you would not even have mentioned it if you masturbated (which I compulsively did).

By the time I was in Uni I didn't even understand my feelings towards other young men. I recall, for example, being really angry with my best mate because of all the time he was spending with his girlfriend. Why wasn't he paying attention to me, why does he have to spend all that time with her. He's in her room and they're having sex. We had some interesting squabbles over things like that. It wasn't till much later that I realised that I was attracted to men and became comfortable with that; though I had to go through a disastrous marriage to realise that.

Up until recently, I thought I'd put aside all the negative feelings and questions around my abuse. However, due to a recent incident, it has come back and I see myself having to process some of these feelings and questions all over again. This is what has brought me to this group. I hope to meet and get to know some of you here.

Thanks for giving me the space to get this out of my mind.
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