Greetings, all.

I have posted my story several months ago on another site that perhaps some of you frequent. While I did find some comfort there, I am still... well, seeking, for lack of a better term

The line between what constitues actual sexual abuse has been blurred by many factors. Perhaps i am just seeking affirmation that I was wronged?? I don't really know... but am grateful for any feedback

here is my story:


My history of abuse predates my incest experiences. The first such instance was when I was a young boy...maybe 8-10 years old. I was fondeled in a public pool over a period of weeks by a male lifeguard who worked there... The kids would splash about with this particular guy when he was not on duty. In doing so, he routinely handled my genitals (through my trunks)... I knew it was wrong, but was confused as to whether or not i was imagining something. My confusion was shattered once and for all when in the midst of one particularly enthusiastic groping session, I struggled to get away...he pulled me close to him and said something I will NEVER forget: "you can't enjoy it if you're squirming..."

I mention this as a prelude because I have come to believe that it set up a particularly damaging "truth" to my way of thinking. that is, that sex (and sexual acts) were something that one person "took" from another (passive) person.

In my early teens, I enjoyed a fairly normal time of things. My relationships with my parents was okay... But everything changed for me when i was 15 years old over a particular, life-changing weekend:

I was suffering from a sever ear infection, and my family had plans to go to our house at the shore for the weekend... My parents had to go, because our house there was being rented out, and our tenant was becoming problematic... It was decided that My dad and brother would go ahead to the shore, and that mom would stay home with me.

That first night, as I convalesced, I grew tired and announced that i was going to bed... My mother inquired out-of-the-blue if I would like to sleep in her bed that night... I was surprised, but for some reason, thought that it might be okay...I went off to bed in her room. Some time later, and after taking a bath, my mother joined me in bed...I was half asleep at the time, but was roused into full consciousness by the feeling that she had placed her hand on my privates. Startled, I turned from laying on my side to laying on my back...wide awake and in a state of disbelief/shock... after a time, she again placed her hand upon my genitals...she let it rest there a moment, and then rubbed me in a back-and-forth moment 2-3 times... Suddenly, she got up from the bed and began to pray her rosary...and i spent a sleepless night trying to figure out what I had just experienced

I had never harbored anything remotely like incestuous thoughts toward my mother brfore that night, but from that moment on, I became obsessed with the idea of replicating that contact with her again.

I began spying on her as she bathed... and allowing her to "catch" me in various states of undress. In addition, I developed a fetish attachment to her undergarments and used them for masturbation... this itself developed into a game of sorts wherein I would return the garment to the clothes hamper only to find that they were later placed in one of my drawers... In addition, she would expose herself to me on occasions too... two times are particularly memorable...and always with an excuse that enabled the exposure (as in," is there a rash on my bottom?" or... "do you see a mark under my breast?")...

My machinations to push the sexual envelope with her became more involved, and more aggressive. Eventually, I had very little use for pretense and would simply come over to her as she read late at night and drop my garments...allowing her to "inspect" me for any anomalies... on these occassions, she would gently, but purposefully touch me and on a few occassions, she would take me within her firm grasp

and that is the extent of the contact...it went on for years.

Over the years, my feelings of guilt for my complicity has caused me much grief, and remorse... As is the case with many abuse victims, I became promiscuous, fell into drug and alcohol abuse over a period of about 20 years...naturally, these issues affected EVERY relationship i have ever had.

So now... Having been sober for 15 years, and worked in Therapy to address many of the issues, i still wonder how (and if) I will ever be able to fully resolve this dark and terrible secret...as the years go by, I tend to take on all of the responsibility too... part of me wants desperately for my mother to own her part in it and tell me, "it wasn't all in your imagination! I was there...and I was the adult, who should have protected you..."

My therapist has suggested that I NOT confront my mom over all this. I wonder if there are any herein who have a similiar story that i may learn from? have any of you confronted/resolved your abuser with positive results?

that's all there is to tell...for now