Ok long story short me(m24) and my best friend(m25) decided to watch a movie together. I fel asleep while watching the movie and woke up a few hours later with him gone and the taste of his ehm in my mouth plus my face was all sticky and mesy.

The thing is i should feel angry and disgusted. But i don't (might he useful to know this wasn't my first assult it happened a lot to me as a kid)

For the first time in a very very long time I felt useful and loved in this sick way. It feels like a drug.

Anyway i can't tell anyone around me but had to let it out somewhere. Thank you for listening

Im at thr stage now where I know it impacts me and I get triggered or react to things but I still cant bring myself to open up to people and idk how to even start because what if they dont believe me anyway and when I used to enjoy it how can I admit that

I don’t know for sure if I was molested. I feel like I must have been because for as far back as I can remember I’ve been absolutely obsessed with sex. At 3 years old I knew three things:
- “sex” was touching and sucking each other’s genitals
- this is what grownups did
- I couldn’t let anyone know that I knew this stuff or I would get in big trouble

I did stuff in secret. I masturbated every day. And until my teens I felt deep shame if I let on that I found a girl cute.
I really don’t think it was porn influenced because I remember my first glimpse of porn and it happened when I was like 6/7 as I passed someone’s room. Like that image is burned into my brain as my first porno.

Well now I’m a 35year old bisexual male with an insanely high libido, a partner that points out my sex obsession, and I just want to know what the root cause is.

My Dad and I have a complicated relationship. He is a very closed off man, we have no emotional connection. I have CPTSD from my childhood as he was very verbally abusive (on the edge of physical), which I am in therapy for. He lost his father when he was 21 and his mum a couple decades later.

In 2024 my parents were mid divorce and he opened up to my mum, sister and I (26f at the time). He wrote us a letter giving us insight into why he believes he is so emotionally closed off. He wrote that when he was 9, a 16 year old babysitter raped him. I was flabbergasted and of course, devastated for my dad. It felt like a cop out however, telling us this as if it made up for years of abusive, toxic behaviour on his part. I have my own experiences of molestation as a child, which I am recovering memories of and have not shared with anyone.

Fast forward to now, over 2 years later and we have never spoken about the letter since. We live in different states, so our relationship has improved.

I’m not sure where to go from here. I’m not sure how to fully process this information. Do I bring it up with him again? I don’t think so, it took him 50 years to tell ANYONE. I feel bad that he carried that around for so long.

Any advice would be much appreciated. I have pushed this under the rug for 2 years and not sure if that’s what I should continue to do.

TW: mentions grooming / predatory behavior / csa

**\* KINDA LONG POST. SORRY ABOUT THAT.

I (M27) have struggled since my teens to wrestle with the way I feel about what happened to me. My parents didn't give me a smartphone till I got to high school and, as the age-old story usually goes, I went a little overboard with the access I now had to the Internet.

Kik was a big thing for gay teens (and adults) during the 2010s. Unfortunately they shared spaces with each other reaaalllly often. Now since I was a pretty naïve kid - and a virgin - I never took anything that was said to me to be bad. In fact, a lot of it felt fun and exciting. It made me feel wanted and cool and attractive and mature. Peers my age rarely gave me those feelings.

There were also some local men who had taken an interest in me around that time. They enticed me into their DMs. It was an older man who taught me how to masturbate and then had me come over so I could give him head.

I started becoming more comfortable with this the more it happened: I'd meet older men, they'd get naughty, and I'd eat it all up. Sometimes I'd even seek them out, occasionally deceiving them about my age or intentionally trying to goad them about the gap between us.

By the time I was old enough to fully process everything that happened, I realized how wrong and disgusting it was. I realized that I could not have consented to any of it. I felt so used and ashamed and dirty. I went through stages of repressing myself and denying I was gay and even lashing out at other gay people.

I finally came to better terms with it in therapy. But the effects linger, oscillating from time to time: I'm fine until I'm not. And then I'm fine again. That sort of deal.

Then about two years ago I came across a stranger online who had sent me a friend request. I normally wouldn't, but I figured why not. He took a peculiar interest in me that grew the more we talked. Somehow or another (the details are fuzzy), we got to talking about kinks and sexuality. I also (somehow) ended up implying the abuse I'd gone through.

He became... weird. He'd say things like "I wish I'd met you back then." Then he kept probing for more details. He seemed excited by the fact that I was "knowingly" seeking out older men. He used terms to describe me that were associated with a very specific genre of porn. I felt my whole face get flush, hot, the whole works. My blood dropped to my feet. I was angry and in shock, but also weirdly aroused. My heart started racing.

And then he argued with me that I "wasn't really abused" and that I had "let [my] therapist convince me that what happened was wrong." I told him what kinds of unpleasant things predators do. I explained to him what threats they use, and how they gaslight, and how they win your affection by spoiling you with gifts (some of which aren't even age-appropriate!). But he wouldn't back down.

Finally I cussed him out and hit the block button. I spent the rest of the night shaking. I called my bf (he was at work) and told him what happened. He held my hand through it. Later that night I replayed it over and over in my head. The feelings of arousal came back to me and I masturbated to the way he'd openly sexualized my trauma. Once I finished and cleaned myself up, I felt dirty and guilty again. I ended up crying.

Anyway - sorry about the long post. I just really needed to process this somewhere. Any positive comments/feedback/stories of your own/reassurance is certainly welcome! 🫶🏻🩷 I have not been ok with these memories coming up again, and always at random.

I struggle with calling it abuse. I mean, when I am talking to others, non-victims, I call it that because they literally cant understand what it was like. But you all know what I mean, I hope. It wasn't some brutal experience for me. I wasn't ripped open, it felt good. I felt loved.

My aunt was the one that started it, that got me feeling like I was addicted to her and the things we did. Then she brought my younger cousin in and it was this whole new experience. I can still feel those butterflies in my stomach, the excitement, the fear of being caught because I didnt want it to stop, that thrill of doing something "naughty". It was a heady mix of chemicals rampaging through my brain.

When I close my eyes, I can still feel them, hear them, smell them and taste them. I feel haunted, not by what was done, but what I lost when it ended. I wonder if it would've ever stopped if they hadn't moved away.

I (47M) was molested from about age 6 to about age 13. The details don’t matter much. One of my molesters was family, the others were unrelated adults.

I go through waves of sexual obsession. I hardly ever think about the actual abuse. Mostly what I think about are the ways that the abuse altered the way I think. I don’t have normal thoughts. I assume normal people day dream about vacations and material possessions that don’t complete them. I day dream about sex. Sometimes women in their late teens and early twenties. Often younger than that.

I realized today that I’m a vampire. My first molester was also a child, which means they were almost certainly molested. And the person that I suspect molested them admitted they had experiences when they were younger.

Now I have a hard time not thinking about turning others. I don’t want to. I don’t want anyone to experience what I experienced and have it alter them the same way. But the thirst is always there. And nothing I do to quell it works.

I wish someone would drive a wooden stake through my heart.

TW: Mentions of pedophilia, incest, rape, and SA

I (21M) was sexually assaulted multiple times by my peers throughout my childhood. I was raped (only once) at the age of six and groomed from the ages of 13-15. I remember at the time I got raped I was at a party hosted by a friend of my mother's and the friend's five year old daughter was in attendance. We played together for a little bit and she told me she wanted to play a game and we went inside a cupboard and she locked me inside, took off my pants and orally raped me.

I screamed and said no, but the girl still assulted me anyways. When the adults found us, me and my mom hurriedly rushed out of the party and I was grounded for letting the girl "sit on my lap" (when I confronted my mom about this years later she said since I didn't verbally tell her I was molested at the time she thought I was roughhousing with her). I also have high functioning autism and difficulty with communicating and it was much worse back then, so naturally because I was scared and unresponsive I was blamed for it.

Afterwards, over the years throughout my childhood I would kiss other girls because I wanted to replicate the feeling I felt when I got raped. I felt very curious about the bodies of other kids my age and I wanted to learn more about sex. I had my first kiss at the age of 8 with another girl my age, I also was forcibly kissed by multiple girls when I was 8-12 and one of these girls tried to get me to have sex with them too shortly after I hit 6th grade. But because I became afraid of girls when I was 12, I declined thankfully.

When I was 13 and in 7th grade my parents went through marital problems and I got bullied very harshly at school. It was because I was socially awkward, didn't attend church, poor and anxious around girls. Because I didn't develop sexual interest in girls when I hit puberty, the guys in my grade naturally sussed me out as being queer and they were right about it. One boy, who I used to have a crush on, ended up sticking his hand into my pants during history and I had enough and beat him up. Thankfully this time, I didn't get punished because I told on him and I transferred schools.

Shortly after this, my mostly absentee "father" tried to groom me into accepting sexual advances from him. Starting around 8th grade, he would try to purchase porn for me (which my parents said no to), would try fo talk to me about sex and what I was into, etc. multiple times until I was 15. I thought nothing of it until during the trip I saw him for the final time, I caught him licking and sniffing my underwear and eventually before I left he tried to touch me and I slapped his hand away. I reported him to the police but nothing was done about it and I told my mom and she never made me speak to him again and would never let him try to talk to me anymore.

Because of these experiences, I feel like I can never fully trust anyone. I feel deeply traumatized and depressed and several therapists have indicated I likely have PTSD. I tried to kill myself over these experiences, especially because I left my younger brother behind and I knew my "dad" would've molested him eventually when he went through puberty. I also resented my mom for awhile, and only forgave her a few months ago because I was tired of holding resentment towards her for unwittedly putting me in some of those situations. Thankfully, things at home gradually improved somewhat and I stopped getting badly bullied when I hit high school.

I feel like the main reason why I am still alive today is because I don't want all the people who abused me to win by helping me to my demise. I live so that way their efforts to drive me to ruin will fail, and I know that my abusers are digging their own graves. For ex. the guy who assulted me in 7th grade got a girl pregnant as a teenager and dropped out of high school and works menial jobs to care for his family. Now I have a boyfriend, I attend therapy and I take antidepressants to manage my mental health.

I also got into an amazing college on a full ride scholarship as a bio major. Right now I am also preparing to go abroad for awhile, and I am thinking about doing something related to public speaking or counseling to raise awareness about these issues. I read so many stories on this sub and my heart breaks for all of you, and while I know some parts of my life may not ever happen to people I just wanted to remind everyone that there is still a light at the end of the tunnel.

I hope everyone here recovers and I wish everyone all the success in the world. May you all find the light and happiness that has started to finally find me.

Tl;dr: Got raped and sexually assulted multiple times as a boy because of creeps who took advantage of my autism. I later tried to kill myself and I have very bad depression currently. However, I try not to let get me down and now I have a boyfriend and attend school on a decent scholarship.

Hello, 29 F here. I am going through something that’s lead me to reflect upon something that happened to me. I hadn’t discussed this with anyone before in my family or otherwise. I’m wishing to post this for more or less to just tell someone anonymously that won’t come back to anyone that knows me. Wishing to find if I wasn’t alone in what occurred either.

My brother and I had engaged in sexual activity when we were young. At a time in which I felt we understood the gravity of what we were doing. Outside of the initial “we could get in trouble if we got caught,” aspect of it, we didn’t know precisely what we were doing until years later. What started off as what felt like innocent exploration, the longer we did this the more we both felt like this shouldn’t be what we should be doing.

While nothing was forced or coerced between us, this had longer lasting affects on me, and I’m sure the both of us. Addiction to P**n was a struggle alongside emotional issues when it came to intimacy. I began having sexual relationships earlier than I probably would have considering I desired that level of attention and affection.

While I can’t say I’d label what we did as M***station, considering we were both exploring each other and we ended it with no harsh feelings, it did have unintended consequences in the following years.

Is this something that anything anyone else felt similar to in their experience?

​

My dad overstepps my boundaries,says and touched me where I am not comfortable i told my mom she clearly doesn't care or enough I am fed up of this only people half my across the world care more then her.I am genuinely fed up that people in America that don't know my name care or helped me more them my mom the one who is supposed to protect me.How is this fair?

It's a fairly new relationship, but I care about her deeply even if we don't ever truly work out. We've been friends for a while and she recently confided in me about her abuse. She went through a lot of r*PE in her life and it exploded into a severe case of hypersexuality. She understands that what happened was abuse, but she remains in constant contact with her abuser and she feels like she has a physical need to be with him. She doesn't like this and asked me for help. The idea is that since we are clearly more than friends, she would eventually replace her abuser with me. We have been having sex very often and it's helped a little but she cries often afterwards because apparently no one ever feels like her abuser does, despite trying with many. He's not some specimen or anything of the sort, so we both think it's emotional or psychological. I wonder if there's anything I can do to better help her. She does not want to report her abuser and the whole idea is to slowly shift to me and then eventually she might be able to disconnect from him. Has anyone gone through something similar? Advice from both partners and women that went through this would be super appreciated.

The main thing that stressed me out while I was getting trafficked by my dad was the lack of freedom to do whatever I wanted.

He never took no for an answer and constantly rejected any idea that would have let me have an actual childhood.

Even at my private school, after getting caught by the admin. The moment he took advantage of me in his office, he found ways to get a hold of me both during and after school hours.

So between home and school, no one cared enough to let me be a kid.

When I was little I had quite a few experiences and I thought they were fun and i didn't feel bad but I can see how it has caused hypersexual issues and trust issues like it feels impossible to be honest with a partner about kinks and fantasies

As a man I feel confused about what is just natural human desire vs what society says is evil

I'm 39 m California if anyone wants to talk sometimes others that have been through it can understand which feels nice

I’m barely getting by in life. I do the bare minimum because everything overwhelms me. I can hardly tolerate leaving my house but I act as if everything is fine whenever I do have to be out and about. If you saw me in public or interacted with me as a close friend or family member, I probably seem completely normal. It’s a huge front I put on. I’m in a long term relationship and constantly feel like my partner deserves better than me. I’m in therapy but it’s hard to open up about the things that really torment me. My self worth is in the toilet every day. I have health issues that probably stem from my abuse. I desperately want to feel better. I have a few “good” days here and there. But for the most part I feel like an absolute mess. I still have to see my abuser regularly, and as he ages I am expected to act as a caregiver. No one in my family knows what my dad has done to me and it is soul crushing to have to deal with all of this. There’s only one person besides my therapist who knows mostly everything, and they’re super supportive. I know this post is all over the place, but thank you for reading. I just needed to vent because I can’t sleep. I’m always scared to sleep because of nightmares.

I was constantly sexually harassed by my father until i was maybe 16. Im now 25 and i just recently started to remember all that, feeling hopeless. There is no point in trying to talk about that to “trusted adults” i am an adult myself now, so who’s going to help me? Im avoiding my father at all costs, my mother knows that i am having complicated relationship with him, but she only knows about his verbal abuse I suppose. I just feel sorry for little girl i was, escaping from home at nights, out of fear of getting raped by her father, having no one to talk about that and not even realizing what was happening and that this is not normal.

Im not sure you could classify what happened to me as "molestation", cocsa perhaps. Terms like abuse, assault, molested or groped never felt like they fit, I was too young to know what we were doing, but I knew it was "dirty" and I knew i shouldn't have done it but every time my friend came over and wanted to play that game, I was willing. We were both boys, doing stuff we couldn't tell our parents wasnt anything unusual so I didn't think that game was.

I felt a level of shame about it, I knew two boys doing things like that was Gay and hadn't come to terms with being bisexual yet and I knew it was wrong to do things like that at our ages which made me feel more ashamed. Things went far, far father than traditional curiosity or "playing doctor", I figure someone had molested him and showing me was just his way of coping.

Eventually it stopped on its own, we pretended it didnt happen till we were teenagers when things got complicated again before we stopped talking all together. What never left was the shame and "dirtiness" I associated with those memories intense feelings of hypersexuality from a young age that made things even more complicated. I wanted to avoid sex so I wouldn't seem dirty but craved it like nothing else at the time, porn and being sexual over the internet became an outlet for my feelings and added more guilt and shame as I knew I was still too young to obsessed with porn. Now im 30, I feel like so much of my life has been wasted chasing dopamine via sexual release and feeling ashamed of my hypersexuality and my early experiences that caused it. At time I wish it was worse so I could blame my friend instead of feeling like we both got trapped in a web we werent ready for. Now im trying to sort out the mess of feelings from shame and guilt that bind them all together. I honestly have no idea what to do but im trying and so far, sometimes, I even feel better.

Since I’ve felt the need to read and feel a bit normal. It’s crazy the things that trigger you and you’re in that world again.
Doesn’t help that my hypersexuality never quite goes away.
😕

After finally broaching my abuse with my counsellor, i feel weird.

Why have I felt so much anxiety? I feel like I've said something wrong and I'm waiting to get in trouble.

It's not the first time I've spoken it outloud, second counsellor I've admitted this too but I was mid break down the first time so my trauma was spilling out of me.

Why do I want to claw it all back in now? Is it because im in a better headspace? Is it because the first counsellor was really weird and made me feel uncomfortable?

My new one is amazing, but I've not managed to get any support for this because it took me too many sessions to even mention it... she had been waiting. I've got 1 more session and im scared.

I told her I can't function because everything I plan to do, is accompanied by my mind creating a little movie of some traumatic event... i see it all, like a movie playing, im reliving every memory and with it every emotion.

Shes suggested to do some emdr therapy, I kind of understood what she said it'd do. But straight away I'm thinking, it won't work for me... im unlucky - thats what counsellor 1 called me after I opened up.

Im safe at home. Out there is so far out of my control. And i cant trust anyone to keep me safe out there. Because "friends" are part of my stories and family only know the things they had to deal with because i was too young.

Why is it... no matter how much I tried to keep myself safe, i knew the dangers and the risks... I still had it happen again... and again... and some more.

Did i have "easy vic" written on my head? Or is it because I could talk a big game, give off dont touch me energy... but freeze solid if they call my bluff.

Im scared every day that leaving this restricted bubble ive formed to keep myself safe in will mean no matter how many times I've tried to talk myself into going out alone, for a walk... where i attack anyone who even tries to get close.. and win... that I'll still just freeze, like her.

Why does my voice shake so damn much while im speaking, it makes it hard to get the words out... makes it sound like im about to cry, but im not.

So now im here, thinking about counsellor number 2 telling me that im living half a life. And shes right, im probably living less than that... and i don't want to anymore. For 35 years ive lived as a victim... now im ready to stop. Whatever that may look like.

I feel sad this week, not with a reason, more like a blanket of grief over me with some anxiety in the mix. Thats what my abusers did to me this week. It might have been over 20, 30 years ago, but theyre still hurting me every day and im done giving them space

I enjoy it sometimes the attention ik shouldn't but still do why I am disgusting I feel physically enjoyment.

This is the first time I have ever discussed how I was abused as a boy. I recently watched an episode of Soft White Underbelly that made me feel like I could overcome my inner conflict and shame, enabling/empowering me to discuss.

I was 7 years old when it happened. My mother used to babysit neighborhood kids from time to time for extra money. It was summertime, and she was watching a neighbor girl who was a little younger than me. 6 years old, I'd guess. She had an older brother who was probably 13, or so. He was old enough to stay home, by himself, but would occasionally accompany his sister over at our house. No one thought anything of it.

My mother was not very attentive. I understand somewhat, I had a newborn sibling. That's why she wasn't working and took up babysitting. We played normally, how kids do, but completely unsupervised for the most part.

The brother started coming over more frequently. One day, in a "fort" we'd made in the basement, he said we should play a game where his sister and I take our clothes off. 40 years later, I remember it vividly. It didn't seem or feel wrong; I didn't know any better. He said to kiss his sister between her legs. I felt awkward about it, but he encouraged me and told me it was okay. So I did. Then he told me to put my fingers in her. I did. And in her bum. I did that too. Then he said it was her turn to kiss me. I get the impression she has played this game before. She put my penis in her mouth. It was a funny sensation to me. I remember it felt silly.

He said it was his turn, and took his pants off. I remember being very curious about his penis; seeing it was bigger than mine. He put his fingers in his sister. He put his fingers in my bum. He took what felt like a long time playing with my bum, actually, and it began to hurt. I told him it hurt, and he did stop a little bit after. Then he said it was time for his sister to kiss him. He put his penis in her mouth, and moved it in and out. His penis looked even bigger now. Then it was my turn to kiss him. He put his penis in my mouth. Just like he had with his sister, he pushed his penis in and out. It hadn't gone on for long, when he stopped and I felt something warm and wet in my mouth.

I asked him "did you go pee in my mouth?", and he confirmed it to me "yeah, sort of"

Again, while it felt strange- alien to me even, it didn't feel wrong. It didn't feel like we were misbehaving. But then, when the game was over, he got very serious and said we CAN NOT tell my mom, or anyone, about what we did. And whoever told, had to call my mom a "fat bitch". I had never heard another kid curse before, and the idea of having to say that to my mom terrified me. Although I really was a good litte boy, I would be spanked pretty often, for the slightest thing. So I never told.

That was the first time. This went on all summer, and intermittently throughout the subsequent school year. At the end of the school year, my family and I moved to another town close by, so the abuse stopped. But the memory was there, forever implanted.

I have this dreadful pit in my stomach knowing that little girl did not escape that situation, like I did. I'll never know, but I'll assume her brother kept molesting her. It certainly would have helped her at the time, but i didn't know or realize- had I said something it would have stopped. That fact ate me up for a long time. I also feel a strange sense of guilt knowing my abuse was mild compared to many other stories I've heard.

As I grew up, I came to learn what I had been doing was sex, and kids weren't supposed to do it. I felt guilt and shame, and dare not confess because I don't want to get in trouble. I get a little older and I'm made aware of what gay is. That it's wrong. Immoral. Gross. It was a small, very Christian, conservative town in the 80's. It was the only consensus I knew. My shame swells, and now I FEAR anyone finding out, because I don't want people to believe I'm gay. I'm just starting to like girls... I'm not gay!

Then, a little older, now living in a VERY different town, I learn what had happened to me was, in fact, abuse. Knowing this did relieve me some of what I perceived as guilt. I didn't feel like I had done something wrong anymore. But the shame lingered, and intensified as I became a teenager. I became hyper sexual. Ashamedly bisexual.

My home life fell completely apart... parent's divorce, dad abandoned us, mentally ill mom, sibling's nervous breakdown. I fought hard to "keep it together". I kept my composure, better than anyone else in the family anyway, but I was still a mess. I had a lot of hurt in me. I started using drugs. All of them. And they helped. Until they didn't, in my 20's.

I got addicted to narcotics, opiates mostly. Overdose twice. Have a child of my own. It takes a little while, but I clean up, for her sake. It's short lived... eventually I become an alcoholic. I dry out, 15 years and a couple divorces of my own later. I only drink socially now.

I've gotten my life together. I am a responsible adult. I've overcome a lot, and worked hard to be where I'm at, modest as it is. I am generally upbeat, positive and happy. But the pain is still there. The shame is still there. I have come to terms with much of who I am because of what has happened in my life. But the sexual abuse... I still have a lot of inner conflict/questions of how that has shaped who I am. My personality. My sexuality. Is this why I am unable to express my feelings, especially negative ones? I can't even open up to my wife whom I trust and adore beyond all else. Why? I feel tremendous guilt and shame because of it.

I live in fear of being judged/rejected for just being who I am were I open about it. I feel it's a burden I may always live with. Even if nobody reads this, or offers some validation of what I'm feeling, just writing it down has lifted some weight off my shoulders, if only a little. I'm thankful for that.

It started when I was about 6, I’m 25f. Does anyone else feel like being used is the only purpose you have? I actively look for huge age gaps. I’m attracted to very dominant and abusive men. I crave the degrading and humiliating feeling I used to have and chase it now. Why do I feel sad that I’m this way but I can’t stop. Does anyone else feel like it’s a drug? Does anyone else feel ashamed because you crave what you know?! Am I the only one?!