Not sure how to title this, maybe Childhood Trauma will suffice.

41f here 👋

I'm not too entirely sure how to begin to go into the topic of my childhood trauma. The thought of complete strangers reading about what has been haunting me, kind of makes me feel *eye twitch* unnerved because I know how cruel the internet trolls can be. But here goes, I guess...

When I was maybe 8 or 9 I remember taking a bath and just singing my little heart out in the tub with the door cracked open. My mother was at work, so it was just me and my dad until she got home at 10:30pm. I dunno how long I was in the tub for, long enough to turn into a prune cause... Kids take forever in the shower/bath and I was absolutely no exception. I get out of the tub, dry off and wrap the towel around me and as soon as I pull the door open the rest of the way, I was greeted by a video camera, red light on, then my dad appears. He justified this thing being in the door way by saying he was going to make a video for AFHV (America's funniest home videos. It was the early 90's when this all happened, btw). Even at that age I was appalled and suspicious, but I didn't say anything to my mom.

Fast forward to a number of years later, as a teenager, I was given an anime (Highschool of the Dead, which is definitely not PG at all) and told to watch it cause it was good, I was intrigued because I liked the gore type anime. Welp, I had left the show running while I went to the bathroom and my dad came home from work, so he obviously saw what was playing and decided that he would show me HIS porn collection, which again made me suspicious but I agreed reluctantly. I wasn't impressed btw, but he thought it would be a good idea to make conversation about "going in through the back door" which I didn't initially understand until a few years later. He also thought it would be a good idea to try and reach between my legs to try and cop a feel but I shut that shit down by moving away and that was the end of it. Again, I never brought this up to my mother because I felt like I would be blamed for it, which led to trust issues and rebellion. So I've been marinating in this putrid secret for a good chunk of my life.

My father is in his 70's now so I don't know if he even remembers that instance, but I obviously never forgot it. I want to tell someone, a family member, but I don't want to turn family against family nor do I want to be questioned as to why it took me so long to come out with it, so I keep it locked away. But I am telling all of you, anxiously biting the skin on the inside of my cheek as I do. Maybe I just need someone to tell me it wasn't my fault, or that it was... I dunno... But I do know I'm so tired of keeping it inside.

B

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