My grandma asked me what my favorite gift was. I thanked everyone for their gifts, as everyone else thanked one another similarly. I carried my gifts to my bedroom and returned to the living room. I helped mom clean up the torn strips of Christmas wrapping paper and satin ribbons which were sporadically strewed around the living room. So in my naiveté I allowed the whole event to be no more than a passing thought. I had zero reason to assume something sinister in its intent. I didn’t think too much of it, after all what is inappropriate about a father buying clothes, even underwear for his daughter? I mean it wasn’t like they were an unusual style they were a plain Fruit Of The Loom three pack of ordinary cotton underwear. I heard my mom tell my dad in a quiet voice, “I don’t remember buying those for her”. I continued to open gifts and look through them just like any 13 year old would. I simply made a mental note to myself to never embarrass my kids when I grew up. I didn’t think too much of it at the time, and I ignored the laughter of the entire family. I thought it was socks or a t-shirt by the way it felt, but after removing the wrapper I realized it was underwear. A few gifts were passed out to each of us, and he passed out one more to me.
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Dad was playing the role of Santa by passing out the gifts. I hated that, why do parents want to embarrass their kids? Of course we were all there, mom, dad, grandma, aunts, and uncles. Like most parents, they would wrap up silly gifts like underwear in an attempt to embarrass their kids while they opened them in front of others. We were opening gifts like we did every year. It was Christmas morning 1988, I was 13 years old. I always kind of chalked it up to him not wanting me to grow up, and wanting to show as much affection as he could before I wasn’t a child anymore. I often felt uncomfortable to be around him. Although up to this point in my life he had never touched me in an inappropriate place, I still felt like something wasn’t right. Dad was always looking for an excuse for hugging and kissing me he often wanted me to sit in his lap. My earliest memories of my dad’s depravity seemed rather innocuous in comparison to his later acts of evilness. I sincerely hope by sharing my story, I can heal, and maybe help someone else on their own journey to peace.Ĭhapter 1, The First Time My Dad Molested Me
Nifty gay warning series#
This series of chapters is part of my journey. More then nineteen years later, I am setting out on a journey to find peace.
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This is a first in a series of chapters I am sharing explaining the sexual abuse my dad subjected me to between when it began, and when I finally had the courage to leave. I urge people who are vulnerable to being triggered to heed these warnings. Zero being not at all triggering and 10 being highly triggering. The trigger warning within the thread will have a rating of 0-10. It's mostly to help me organize my thoughts.Īs a precaution I will have a trigger warning in the title of these threads and also a separate trigger warning within the thread. As a means to help keep my story organized and recognize the order of events I have given each part of my experiences a title and chapter number. I still have much more to go before I am finished. I have written about the first 8 months or so of a nearly three year event.
As best I can I am writing and sharing my experiences in chronological order starting at the beginning and sharing to the time I escaped. Although I am new to this forum I have been writing the story of my abuse for a while now.
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This is part of the story of the abuse I went through when I was a child.