Not your fault


Hi Jeff.
For me with sucking my thumb I was young enough that it was still acceptable. It was used against me in that they said that since I was sucking my thumb I could suck them. But no one else teased me about it.

I do think that after being used enough we become easy targets for other perps. Even if no one tells them they can see the signs.
I wonder what the signs are. Is it that I was withdrawn and isolated and would do what I was told? There were a couple of adults that weren't in my family that tried to bring up sexual abuse with me. They could see it too I think. And they tried reaching out to me but I was too ashamed and wouldn't talk to them. I would just get extremely nervous. But then I think that if a couple of people I hardly knew could see it then why couldn't my family.

I also think that the abuse becomes normalized for us. It is just how life is and we accept it as just the way things are.
So you go back to your Johns, or my neighbor. It is what we knew. Just the way things are. For me since it started so young it felt like it couldn't be changed because it always had been that way. Like changing the color of the sky, it is blue and has always been blue. The only thing that I was good for was to be used and care for others needs. I didn't even think about changing things because I didn't know they could be changed.
We had no real control. We became what they made us. Even if they didn't have to use force each time and we went willingly or went back. We weren't really in control.
If a husband beats his wife really severely each time for not having dinner on the table when he gets home. Then he comes home and she has dinner on the table ready. It doesn't mean that she wanted to make dinner or wanted to be beat the other times. It means she is in an abusive relationship.
So with us. We may have gone back or did stuff we feel guilt over. But we really had less choice than we like to think.
Hey Toad

I was wondering why I didn't see your post. I don't know how I came across it either. I guess ... IDK

You mention about the way we perceive things as kids or even as older kids. I had my regular T session with Dr.Gartner and my EMDR session yesterday. I think these were among the best sessions I had to date. Everything revolved around Why did I stay in the game for so many years. And with my EMDR T, we went into my feelings about being smuggled out of Norway and sold here in NY. Which brought up my question now that if DACA is repealed do I get sent to Mexico or back to Norway. That was the lighter side of my thinking when I was driving home after my sessions.

But like you mention about the sky always being blue. So this is what I was wondering about why did I stay in the "game" for 15 years. It's been on my mind for years now. You just mentioned the reason. If the sky was blue then it was always blue. This is what my life was. I was a prostitute and this is what I knew. I knew that as a child of 8 pictures of me and my friend were taken to be sold to the boy magazines in the '50s and '60s. That I was sold to johns starting when I was 10. This was my life so this is the way it continued until I was 24.

What made it that when I would walk on the streets of Manhattan I would get hit upon by guys that wanted to get into my pants. It never failed. It seemed like I had a target on the back of my pants. Like you wonder that if non-family adults could see that you were being abused then why didn't your family. What made us stand out?

All of what you're mentioning here is the basis of a timeline document I wrote up explaining why I stayed in the game. In simple terms, this is what I knew, I didn't really know any other life. If you want I can let you read it. I can post it here. I have no problem with anyone reading it. It might even help someone. I'm going upstairs now to give it to my wife. She is very squeamish hearing about my childhood. She had a very nice and happy childhood was never exposed to abuse of any kind. Her father left her mother when she was one year old and her sister two years old. But I would have loved to have had her mother as my mother. She was fun and lovable. I will read this document to Dr.Gartner next Tuesday. I will be continuing with my EMDR T about my feelings about the realization that I was part of a baby smuggling operation from Norway. But this explains why my parents needed me but not to be a son but rather an object for their upper-class society persona and class climbing.

It's really interesting that you mention "It is what we knew. Just the way things are.". After I wrote and rewrote up my document of why I stayed in the game I actually see why I stayed - It was the only game I knew. It is what I knew. Just the way things were for me. Brilliant!!! Kudos Toad :)


Hi Jeff,

Glad you had a good therapy session. You deserve a little peace if it is possible.

As for your wife being squeamish. That is a normal response to what we have been through. I think we have lived it as kids and then lived it over and over in our heads that at least to me it feels normal. I often think, that maybe what I went through isn't too bad. But when you see it through someone elses eyes you see how bad it was, they can't bare to look at it. It Is what we have lived and lived with every day.
So honestly, we are doing well just to be alive and somewhat functional.
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Hey Toad

I can see the hurt in your avatar. But I guess that's OK. I hope to see a smile there sometime

Would you like to read what I wrote? I gave a copy to my wife earlier this evening after our last talk. I hope she read it, I think she would since she is trying to help me. She will understand why my childhood went the way it went if she did read it. I think that you will see what you wrote before is very true about the blue sky always being blue.

It is very hard for someone to understand what we went through. My wife had a poor but happy childhood. Her sister and she slept in the living room since there was only one bedroom and a small dinette so they slept together on the couch. I lived in a big house with multiple rooms and bedrooms and no childhood in that house.

If you want I will post it here.


Sure. You can either post it or send it direct.

I am leaving this morning and traveling cross country, but will try to log on tomorrow.
Why I stayed in the game

Do you have a lot of relatives that were part of your life?

I know that my mother’s mother had two sisters. And those two sisters had a bunch of kids so there was a big family out there but my parents never took me when they went to visit them. So I basically never had many relatives from them. My mother had twin sisters that were 7 years younger than her. One didn’t have any kids the other had two children by two husbands. The younger kid who was about 20 years younger than me grew up to be a real bum type and I only saw him once when he was a baby. The other one who is older than me from her first husband used to sleepover by my grandmother when he started college and I was 12. I was by my grandmother and he argued with her that she shouldn’t be giving me a bath because this is not Europe. Anyway after my bath, while I’m still naked and he’s bouncing me up and down on the arm of her couch. He then sticks a sharp pencil under me. I was screaming in pain. She sent him off to college to get him out of the apartment. She then spent the afternoon cleaning out the wound. I remember a doctor coming over also. The tip of the pencil point had to be dug out of my right cheek. So I never wanted to see him again.

The only other cousin from my mother’s side was an older girl maybe 10 years older than me. Maybe I was around 9. I was taken along when my parents went to visit them. My parents probably didn’t have anyone to leave me by. They lived way out on Long Island. At some point during the visit, the girl takes me out in one of the open fields. We come across a large pit and she starts telling me of the monsters that live down there. She has me terrified by then and I want to go back to the house. So she grabs me and wants to throw me into the pit and I start screaming until she lets me go. I never see her again either.

My father had 3 brothers and 1 sister. One brother had no kids. One brother had two kids but he didn’t speak to him so I never saw the cousins. The sister had three kids. One was in the navy and died of agent orange 20 years ago one sister died when I was around 12 and the third is the niece that took my mother. But I never saw them at all.

The only cousin that I’ve had contact with was my father’s brother's son (the doctor). He was a year older than me but he lived around the corner from me when I lived in Massapequa, Long Island. But when both our families moved out of there at the same time my mother didn’t want to live near them.

We still saw each other in school but then my mother took me out of that school for my 7th-grade year. She never told me that she was taking me out of the Jewish day school. At the beginning of the new school year when we drove away from the house I thought we were going back to that school and she drove up to the public school and took me into the principle’s office. What a mind fuck that was. I went crazy. I thought I was going back to my friends. So at 11 years old the only friends I had now was Lanny, Bobby, some friends from judo that didn’t live nearby and papasan.

Anyway, my cousin and I never really saw too much of each other. His mother would invite me over for weekends or holidays but between my mother not letting me go and me being busy with papasan and Lanny’s sister I almost never went and we grew apart. He’s the one who told me that I was adopted. So, all in all, I never had any family. My family became porn, johns, parties, papasan’s “friends”, etc. I see now, not only how I got involved in the game but why I stayed in the game. I literally had nobody else but papasan. He was the only family I had. My mother left for Florida for the winter (really the whole school year). In the summers they went on their cruises or around the world trips such as China, Japan, and Indonesia. They went to Europe, the middle east and South America. I was left alone or with papasan. If she was a normal mother she would have sent me to my uncle but she didn’t want me to got there. She didn’t want her to influence me in any way. So I stayed with papasan.

Wow, I was always asking myself for years why I stayed in the game. Writing this now gave me the answer. Along with the memories coming out with what my mother now did and the fact that I wasn’t their child and that I now know I wasn’t even adopted. Yesterday I had both Dr.G and my EMDR T. Two very good sessions, maybe the very best sessions I had. We did my being “gotten” by my parents in EMDR. I didn’t say adopted because I was born in Norway and brought here to be sold. The EMDR T and I did some Googling and found evidence on the web that around the 1950s there was big business in smuggling kids here to the US to be sold. Kids were stolen from hospitals where parents were told their children died, or taken because there were no abortions or from orphanages, etc. It was also mentioned that to go through regular adoption red tape took a long time so people bought smuggled babies. That’s why my mother said she got me from a hospital on the lower east side of Manhattan and never was uptown where my birth certificate was forged. And there are no adoption papers. This doesn’t mean that my parents knew I was smuggled. They were told a story and ate it up.

When my mother’s niece moved her out they didn’t take any papers aside from current financial papers. I found papers like my father’s mother’s naturalization certificate but no adoption papers. It’s obvious how I got here.

The end result is that I really had no place else to go and I didn’t know a different life. I was watching a documentary about Dolly Parton last night and they interviewed her uncle. He said that she lived in a small one-room house with 12 siblings. He said, “We didn’t know we were poor until we saw people who were rich.” That’s such a profound statement and hit me in between the eyes. I really didn’t know anything else and I didn’t have anyone else that lived a normal life. I knew I loved papasan, Lanny and Bobby. I was even with the gym teacher for four years. I was in the village which was ground zero on the east coast for the hippie/drug revolution at the time. My friend Craig ran away when we were 15 to San Francisco’s Height Ashbury which was ground zero for the hippy/drug revolution on the west coast. I always had a lot of money in my pocket because I made $10 and $20 tips from johns. That was a shitload of money for a 12-year-old. I had money to buy large plastic models of ships and planes, go to movies. I didn’t need anything. I was making more money at 12 in a month than I did in the USAF in a month. I could make $200/month or more doing johns and in the USAF I only made $115/month. I had only one normal family that I knew the son from judo that lived further out on Long Island. It was a family of 4 girls and two boys. The parents always took me to my competitions even if my friend Eric wasn’t competing. They were naturists which were kinda interesting but they had taken me to their beach club and we went water skiing or sailing on their huge sailboat or sailing on their little single person sailboats. What struck me was that there were naked people and no sexual shit going on. It was the furthest thing from their minds. But I think that they knew I was mixed up in prostitution.

I wonder if they repeal that DACA immigration policy for the aliens that were brought here as children, will they send me to Mexico or back to Norway. Ha! Ha! Ouch!

I have to thank you for being here for me. You helped me so much.


Hi Jeff,

It makes sense that you couldn't quit as that was all you knew and that was all of your friends at the time. You did well getting out when you did. It often takes getting away from the environment you were abused in to have the distance to see things clearer.
Even then if you go back to the same places and people that abused you when you are a little older, people often will just fall back into the old patterns. It is what they know how to do in those circumstances.

Even now I have a fear that if someone grabs me from behind I will instantly revert to being a 5 year old and not put up a fight. My mind would just float off and they could do what they wanted. We do what we have been trained to do. Even years later.
Keep up the good work.

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Hey Toad

You mention someone walking up behind you and you would revert to your 5-year-old self. My T's office happens to be in the village where I would stay as a child and teen. So walking around on the avenues is still a little triggering. I'm still paranoid that someone will come up to me on my right side clutch my upper arm, slowly squeezing it tight and whispering in my ear "be a nice boy". I was off the street into the back of a car with my eyes taped shut in a matter of seconds. I was 14. I thought this is exactly what papasan warned me of. I could very easily disappear. And I finally did. After that two day incident, Bobby and I were not allowed to go out of the apartment without the other one. Even today when I walk down an avenue I have to stop a couple of times between blocks and do some window shopping just to make sure nobody is following me. I always walk with my right side to the buildings and I walk with my right side against the building and never along the street. Paranoid? I guess so.

When I first started therapy in 2012 I couldn't walk around the neighborhood but even though I still have problems with people on the street I've been able to enjoy walking around. I even found the apartment where we kids used to stay. So I have loosened up some. At least I'm not trying to find a bus to walk in front of.

My parents moved to a new neighborhood when I was 9. My father was having the house custom built so we would go on the weekends for the year prior to moving to check up on how the work was going. My parents would leave me there with my friend Lanny and they would go to visit relatives or friends. But aside from my trips to see the new house and be with my friend I have almost no recollection of my life before nine years old. It's blank except for my mother's beatings. I guess I feel like you that maybe it's best I don't remember. But I get bad vibes thinking about what went on though. My mother all through the years always made the joke of how when I was three years old I would walk up to her and tell her that I wanted to run away. Uhh! Excuse me!!! WTF!!! Why is a three-year-old wanting to run away from home? That's a funny joke? I do know that the beatings I would get for being "bad" were extreme.

She would make me pull down my pants and my underpants if I had any on or take them off and pull my shirt up. I was already hysterical knowing what was coming. She would grab my left wrist and hold it over my head and start beating me with her hand, my father's belt or her slipper. After she finished she left me as a heap on the floor next to my bed. I would grab my blanked and crawl under the bed up into the corner of the room.

Maybe it's curiosity but I have to know what went on. Maybe that's a mistake and I should just let it be. But seeing all that has happened since 2011 when I fell apart with my memories, I have to know what went on. Did I have friends? I know my first cousin was around the corner but my mother really didn't let me go over there too often and I don't have many memories of those visits.

So much has happened since my first cousin told me, accidentally, that I was adopted in December 2015. Since then and only a couple of months ago I found out that I wasn't even adopted but smuggled here from Norway as a newborn and sold to my parents. I want to know more. I want to have a history, I want to have a belonging. I have many 2nd cousins in Norway but I'm looking for first cousins. Even at my age, I want to belong to someplace or someone.

I'm sorry but I have to stop here, I'm starting to drink too much.

I hope your trip is productive and of course safe.
I read your threads and I feel ashamed that I hold such resentments. My older brother molested me and my little brother. He was physically abusive, and conned me into sucking hiss dick when I was 12, and then told me how what I was doing was bad and homosexual.

But that is not what I want to share. It is a fear that I have never before admitted. When I was 12 at my mother's direction I stripped slowly for her photographer friend. Although he took pictures at every step of undressing, I did not get anxious about it until I was naked. And after a while naked I had an erection and hid behind a chair. My mother had me get back into full view naked. Then she told him to cut the pictures down.

I asked my mother why. She said so I would not be embarrassed when I was older.

I knew in some sense this was abuse. But only reading your posts did I acknowledge I might have been distributed. I had assumed till now this was something special for her photographer friend. When I was older, and married, I put one of the pictures of me on top of the china closet. It was a picture taken when I was naked but it only went down to my belly.

At 37, I was flooded by the terror of physical, sexual,and emotional abuse. I understood the pain for the first time. I could not stand it. A cried so hard for three days, I could not walk a straight line. I went into therapy thinking my mother an innocent victim and all the fault went to my father and his frequent physical abuse.(He hit each of us kids at least once a month and my mother at least once a week.

The therapist would not work with me until a presented evidence of my mother abusing me as well…

Hey genedebs

I don’t know if I ever replied to your post but if I did this might be a new take on what we both went through.

The only difference between our parents was that my mother wore the pants and my father sat idly by while I got my ass colored red.

yes, those pictures are most probably up on the web. I have been on Instagram and Pinterest and found pictures of me on both and even have them under other people's albums. I stopped using each of these services but I came back because I love outdoor nature pictures. If I did’t have original prints of some of the pictures taken of me, now scanned into my computer, I would say “hey that looks like me” but a lot of kids look the same under different conditions. But I can actually make out pictures that were displayed in those boy magazines of the ‘50s and ‘60s. So somebody either scanned in those pics or got a hold of the originals which I have a copy of the original negatives. There is a guy on the web who signed pictures that he displays with his watermark of me and my boyfriend Lanny in a compromising position. I know where that picture was taken and I know who took it and I had the original print already scanned in. It was a black and white photo taken by my boyfriend’s sister when we were 11(?). We are in a compromising situation. I have destroyed all prints after I scanned them in. Most pictures are just nude pictures of kids in normal settings with adults around which is fine. This is to say that pics are taken out of context for instance if the adults are excluded from some of my pics it may look pornographic. With today’s applications, I could look like the first nude president of the US.

I’m sure that if pictures were taken while you were undressing there are a lot of pictures involved. I’m sure you had the one your mother gave you but what of the other few dozen pics. Those are out there. I remember being taken to porn photographers and having multiple rolls of film taken. Maybe a thousand pics were taken at one session. maybe more?

When I first fell apart in 2011 I had to find those pictures but after a while, I stopped when my T asked me to. But just being on Instagram and Pinterest I keep coming across my pics every once in a while. Not porn pics but naked pics. Where did these people get them? They copied them from somewhere. Did they copy them from porn sites or someone else’s site? How did they come across these pics?

I’m sorry about your divorce and also that she didn’t give you that picture. You don’t say if it’s sentimental or you just don’t want it floating around.

I see now that we all fall apart sooner or later. I had hoped that my past would stay in my past but in 2011 it all came back when I accidentally walked back into my old haunts in the village after jury duty.

What I don’t understand that therapist wanting to see proof of your mother’s abuse. Was he a judge or supreme court judge. What was he? You say only a therapist. Well, he might be a judge but he’s no therapist in my eyes. My therapist never asked me for documentation I took when I was 8 years old. I didn’t know what “documentation” meant back then.

We don’t need pics of us when we were little. I still have some and tried to delete them many times but I couldn’t. Those pics were of me and my boyfriend Lanny, his sister, and her girlfriend. The prints are gone and the digitized pics with also go with me to the grave.

I’m sorry that I wrote all this while I was drunk but it seems that’s the only way I can communicate with pictures. I’ve noticed with my time here on MS that when a child is told to do something like undress for pictures, as a favor for a mother’s friend, he does it. When Lanny and I would get the latest boy magazine (we were 8-12) we would look at our pictures and laugh. then look at other kid's naked pictures and laugh also. We had no comprehension that we were in the porn business. You didn’t either.

I have to stop here. I’ve been having a bad drinking problem for the past couple of years. I did kick my crack habit a year ago this past August though. So maybe at some point, I will be able to kick drinking.

I tried my best to make myself understood.

much love sending your way


Most pictures are just nude pictures of kids in normal settings with adults around which is fine. This is to say that pics are taken out of context for instance if the adults are excluded from some of my pics it may look pornographic.
I fell down a rabbit hole a while back. I love photography and signed up for Flickr. Looking through the new pictures people posted was one of a little boy of about 4 sleeping on the beach. Laying on his stomach he looked like he played until he just gave out. Sleeping peacefully, wearing no clothes. It was a really cute picture and it didn't show anything because it was taken from the side. There was a comment on it from a guy that was suggestive though. I clicked on his user name and it showed all of his saved/liked images. They were all pictures he had saved from other peoples accounts, pictures of naked boys. These were not pornographic but just family photos. Not sexual, but he was using them. Plus he had 100's of people following him. And when I clicked on one of his followers. That guy had more of the same kind of photos. And he had hundreds of followers that had more pictures and followers of their own. So I started reporting them to Flickr. One by one. People with user names like 6969boys. I did all I could and then quit Flickr.
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She would make me pull down my pants and my underpants if I had any on or take them off and pull my shirt up. I was already hysterical knowing what was coming.
I hated that. I even hid the wooden paddle my mom would use. But there were always a switch or a hanger, I think even a piece of that old orange hotwheel track one time.
Corporal punishment is still big in Texas. It is even still allowed in the schools. You can still be sent to the principles office for a paddling.
But I really hate it when people pull the kids pants down. It is humiliating enough to be spanked.
Hey Toad

In the 15 years that I was being used, there were thousands of pictures and a couple of hundred movies taken of me. I can do a Google search and always come up with a few pictures. All of those pictures were taken with film cameras and copies of the actual prints were passed around. Color pictures and movie films were developed in underground film labs. So those pictures are being digitized and uploaded to web sites. Now with the internet, I would imagine all the pictures of me are out there somewhere. The movies and the bad pictures I would imagine are on the deep web. don't go onto picture sites mainly because I will most likely find pictures of me.

Wow!!! I thought corporal punishment in schools was done away with long ago. I don't remember my days below age nine but I do remember being hit with a wooden ruler on the palms of my hand. This usually left me crying and not able to doodle. I do remember being slapped in the face for using bad language. In high school, there was no corporal punishment, instead, they had detention.


I’ve been having a bad drinking problem for the past couple of years. I did kick my crack habit a year ago this past August though. So maybe at some point, I will be able to kick drinking.
Good job getting off the crack! Alcohol is a hard one. It seems to get rid of anxiety, but it comes back worse. Which makes you want to drink more. It is too easy to drink to zone out and not feel. So far I haven't had a drink in a 4 months. Trying to keep it going.
The only way to heal is to feel the feelings I couldn't when I was younger. To sit with and express the pain until you slowly work through it. When I drink to numb, I cannot really heal. So I cut back and now cut it off.
It is hard though. I enjoy a good whiskey or beer.
On the other hand. My step granddad smelled of Seagram's 7 and cigarettes. So that has bad memories attached.
Still, I know that after I finish therapy tomorrow I will really want to by some beer or a bottle. I wish the urge to drink the feelings away would let up soon.

Anyway, good job on letting the drugs go. Keep up the fight!
Hey Toad

I’m happy that you’re clean for four months. Keep it up.

My problem is not that I kicked the drugs because I wanted to but I’m just afraid of what the shit is cut with. The drinking will be hard in that I have to want to quit. At some point in the evening I just have to get away from myself. Drinking lets me do that. I’m hoping that I finally started up on my meds again I’ll be able to stop drinking.


I am afraid that I made my not drinking for 4 months out to be a bigger deal than it really is. I didn't ever really drink that much, never even got drunk or anything. But I was drinking more often to escape and I didn't like where I was heading. For me it is somewhat also a control thing. Drinking alot or drugs would put me out of control and that feels dangerous. I don't control others, but I like to be awake and aware at all times.

So I am glad to hear you were able to break free from the drugs. Keep up the good work
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Hey Toad

I hear you having to stay in control and that being drunk you would lose that control. I learned early that when I was offered pills before going to a john or party I took them. It was generally not pleasant to be raped by a full-grown adult when I was 9, 10 or 11.

For me now, drinking is so I'm not in-the-moment. I don't think of it as being in control but rather I just want to be nowhere. I just want some time where I get a little peace from my thoughts. As a kid aside from my friend Lanny's father's vino, I didn't drink unless I was given pills with wine or another type of booze.

At least I was hit or slapped in class. When I was sent down to the principle I was really in trouble because they would call my mother. When I came home I would have to drop my pants. I heard a lot about mothers using metal hangers. I don't remember my mother using a hanger. It was usually my father's belt and I always wondered why my father was never using his belt. That belt always seemed to be within my mother's reach. If she didn't have that she would use her slipper. But even that is not the same as getting hit with a wire hanger or a paddle.


Sorry for what you have been through. Taking the drugs as a kid makes sense. I would disassociate and not be there anymore. That is a habit that I haven't been able to break free of.
The desire for me to drink and to not feel and to numb out is also strong.
But I come from a long line of addicts and alcoholics, so it scares me.

Do you ever have a problem eating? Lately I have been nauseated when putting anything in my mouth. But I also have been having flashback and dreams of the oral stuff so I suppose that is why.
Hey Toad

No, I don't get nauseated with food but I do have a problem with people having anything to do with my mouth. Like a doctor using something to check mouth and throat. I've calmed down since I started on my meds two weeks ago. Drinking has gotten worse though. Maybe as my meds take hold more and more I won't need so much booze. Like now it's 3:45am and I'm just drunk and I intend to stay this way till everyone gets up and crawl out of bed around 10am.

Are you having an eating problem?


Hey Jeff,

I have problems with dentists too. One of the last times I disassociated so bad I just watched them work on me from the other side of the room. Hadn't done that since I was a kid. As for food it is a rather new thing for me. I could stand to lose a few pounds anyway.


...When I came home I would have to drop my pants. I heard a lot about mothers using metal hangers. I don't remember my mother using a hanger. It was usually my father's belt and I always wondered why my father was never using his belt. That belt always seemed to be within my mother's reach. If she didn't have that she would use her slipper. But even that is not the same as getting hit with a wire hanger or a paddle.
My mother did the same thing but used a large wooden or metal cooking spoon to beat me... ugh. So, I know the pain and embarrassment.