Never told anyone and I still feel the shame and guilt
I (M40) was molested by my “uncle” when I was 11-14.
It all started when I was 11. At that time my aunt (my mom’s sister) had just bought a beautiful beach condo off of the gulf coast of Florida, she was married to this man who my parents trusted with all their heart. He was indeed a nice guy and I’m ashamed to say that for a while I called him my favorite uncle. They invited us to spend a couple of weeks with them at the condo during the summer the first few days felt really nice my brother, my cousins, would play a lot at the beach. I’m the youngest of the group. One day though, at the end of our first week there, after being in the water for a while my mom told me to go up and take a shower. Immediately my “uncle” said he was going up with me bc he too wanted to take a shower. In the condo was the 2 of us he said we should shower together to save hot water since there were a lot of us. In the shower he touched me everywhere. My body betrayed me and I got an erection. He showed me what it meant to ejaculate. I still remember his moans in the shower while he masturbated in front of me. I was so confused. Part of me knew that this was wrong but it felt good and that’s the part that I hate. The part that it felt good. I still hate myself for enjoying it. I should have told him I didn’t want it but every time, after that episode in the shower, that he asked me if I wanted to do it again I said yes. Disgusting.
It was always like we were playing a game and if I win he would do oral sex on me, but if he won I had to do it on him. It happened until I was 14 years old. The same over and over again. Until I grew up and started showing more signs of puberty. My pubic hair grew longer and I didn’t look as kid anymore, so he lost his interest in me. And that made me angry… how messed up is this??? It stoped because he lost interest in me not because in me and not because I’ve put an end to it. And I’ll carry that guilt with me until I die.
Fast forward to a few years later. I was 18 and had just moved out of my parents house to go to college, and because of some family drama I was not on talking terms with my parents or with anyone else in my family. But I heard my aunt divorced him. Last time I saw him I was 17 years old and we were at my older cousin’s wedding.
A couple of years ago I heard he had a stroke and I prayed he would die. What person prays for another person to die???
Today my son is about to turn 11 (in August) and I have deep issues with trusting anyone around him. He can’t be anywhere without one of his parents around. My brother’s kids spend days with my parents (we’re in very good talking terms now) and I feel jealous that my nephews and nieces can do that but I can’t even trust him being alone with my parents. My own parents. And I know he feels it too.
I know I’m not alone in this but I still hate myself for wanting him to touch me.