This is one of those personal demons. It took me 26 years to discuss this with anyone. Hubby was fairly upset that I wanted to discuss this with my psychologist instead of with him. But I needed a professional female audience for this. Well it’s out now and the people that I felt needed to know, now knows.
I’ve also dealt with the emotional aspect of this. And it removed a great weight off my shoulders.
So without making you wait… I was molested at the age of 16 I think. I truly don’t remember exactly how old I was. Old enough however to have had breasts.
I spent the weekend at my dad’s house. 3 bedroom house with 3 occupants excluding me. My dad’s solution was for me to sleep in his bed. I woke up during the night with his hand cupping my breast underneath my pj’s and bra. I lay awake for ages not moving and not sure what I should do. Eventually I shifted so that his hand slid away.
Yes, I know that what happened wasn’t physically traumatic, but it was emotionally traumatizing. The next night my cousin and a friend were visiting and a christmas bed was made in the living room. I begged to be allowed to sleep in the living room as opposed to sleeping in my father’s bed again. He was drunk and I just didn’t want anything to happen again. He tried to convince me for several minutes before admitting defeat and going alone to his bed.
I had rationalized it as him following instincts with a female body in his bed. However once I discussed it with my psychologist she explained that it was molestation. That no father would do something like that in their sleep without a major flaw in their thought process. So my dad had a screw loose. Not that I didn’t know it before, but I hadn’t known that screw was also sexually defective.
I never went for a sleep over again, not until he got married again and I was safe from him.
The stepmother was nice when she wanted and a calculating bitch on average. To say the least was that I hated her by the end after they split up and took every monetary thing from my dad. As well as the ring that I was pressured into lending her. So I’ve been dragging that hatred with me for many years.
But after working through the thought of what could have happened to me if she hadn’t entered my father’s life. I’ve become greatful to her. Yes she probably was a sociopath, only in it for the money. But she also saved me from something far worse. I can now remember the nice things she did for me without the hatred I had before. Some of which has helped me a lot in my life. I prayed to God to bless her and have given her the ring that she took from me. I still miss the 3 carate diamond ring, but I don’t blame her for it anymore. That said, if my father had trusted me with the necklace it was made from, it would have been mine today. But then he didn’t trust me…