Triggered For The First Time In Ages (Potential Triggers)


Yesterday I was triggered in terms of my childhood abuse for the first time in ages. Perhaps its because of the work around my teen aged years I’ve been doing in therapy has exposed some dark corners to sunlight for the first time in ages.
A blog I read regularly for tool hording and modification and general curmudgeon advice never posts anything remotely sexual. This weekend, under the caption “How to Make an Old Man Happy” he posted a picture of a woman in her 30’s in a sundress bent over, viewed from the side. It was a PG 13 at most picture.

------ Potential Trigger/Trigger Description.

When I saw that picture it took me straight back to being 13 and the first time Mrs. G on my paper route took her exhibitionism to the next step and bent over in very short sundress with no panties underneath and gave me a very clear view of her buttocks and genitals.

It was by no means the first time I had seen an adult woman’s genitals. My mother had no boundaries around nudity…hers or mine. Within a week Mrs. G exposing herself, my mother did the same thing. I remember sitting on the toilet and my mother coming in naked to take a bath, and doing the same thing to me, bending over in front of me, in the less than two feet of space between the toilet and the tub (and since I was sitting her genitals were at eye level) to “test the temperature” during the entire time it took to fill the tub.

They couldn’t have been more different physically. My mother was overweight, very large breasted, and hairy. Mrs. G was petite, she really didn’t need a bra and was completely smooth.

Both elicited the same reaction, my obvious arousal. The difference was how they used that reaction to abuse me. I believe my mother would time her exhibitionism so she could see me naked at the same time and openly watch me become aroused.

Mrs. G was the opposite. She never commented on my arousal, but would eventually get bold enough to go from “accidentally” brushing against me to openly squeezing me through my pants, but never commenting at all. She could casually ask me about my weekend plans or school while openly squeezing me.
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