i’m so conflicted

just as a warning this is pretty explicit (as in very very descriptive of specific events) and trigger warning for incest.

when i was younger me and my brother were really close at home and we’d play games and such because our sister was too mature to play with us and my parents were barely home. eventually around the age of 8 (he was about three years older than me) he told me that we should have sex. i was too young to really know what that meant and he pretty much explained it like a game so i just sort of went along with it. i don’t remember all of what happened but there’s a few specific memories i have. i remember once he tried to make me give him oral. he pulled himself out and said i should lick him. i thought it was gross because that’s where pee comes out but he pulled his foreskin over the tip and i eventually did what he told me. from what i remember there was never actually any penetration but he told me to lie completely still as he rubbed against me and got off. i just remember laying there and thinking how weird sex is if this is how it happens. he taught me how to masturbate using a pencil. once when one of my cousins was over, i tried to explain our ‘game’ to him but my brother stopped me before it got to explicit.

i’ve only ever told one other person what happened. i didn’t detail it but i essentially said ‘my brother used to do sexual things with me but there was no penetration so it’s fine’ and i only told her because she was kind of pushing me to tell her things about me. she barely reacted. i thought that would make me feel better but it just kind of made me mad. like this secret that i’ve kept for so long really means nothing? when after i began to experience puberty he stopped talking to me? when the most we say to each other is ‘hello’? over the past couple months it’s come back up and i’ve started thinking about it more, not by choice, but it’s there. i’m slowly realising that it’s really affected me way more than i thought it ever could and i just get so mad thinking about it. like i don’t want to say anything about it to my family now because it would be swept under the rug. and i don’t want to got to the police or anything because i keep rationalising it to myself that it wasn’t that bad and i could’ve had it worse, which is true, but i still want something to happen. some kind of apology would be nice. but i don’t think i’m ever going to get that.

again, i’ve never told anyone this (at least this much) so i’m very scared. but if you’ve read all of this thank you.