r/Molested

A few months ago I found my husbands sex toy (dildo) and he confessed that he had been sexually abused by a stepbrother for several years when he was a young boy.

He admitted that he had orgasmed during the abuse. He obviously has a lot of shame over this.

To make matters worse his abuser told him that the way his body reacted meant he was gay and if he told anyone about the abuse then everyone would know and all the kids would make fun of him.

i told him I didn’t want him hiding something from me that obviously makes him feel good and that he shouldn’t be ashamed to use his toy when he is with me. I also told him I would be ok with using a toy on which we do now and he seems to enjoy.

But he keeps saying he knows I’ll never be able to see him as a man again now that I know what happened to him and how he reacted to it. And he’s not been able to get erect since he told me what happened, and says he would understand if I want to leave him. We did try pills and they have not worked. I’ve explained to him that even if he can’t get erect I still love him and I am satisfied just using a massager while he holds me.

He says he doesn't want to go to therapy. He says this has been the most humiliating thing he’s ever been through and asked me to please don’t ask him to go through it again.

It just hurts knowing he thinks I can’t love him now. I don’t know what else I can do to help him.

When i (f18) was 13 my dad started an inappropriate way of interacting with me. He would trick me into helping him and say that I need to do what he says and ill get the reward. Those words still haunt me to this day. He wasn't always so "nice" about it though. The amount of abortions ive had im pretty sure it did irreparable psychology damage. This nightmare lasted until I was 16 when he was caught. Now that ive had some time between the event. I hate him more than anyone can hate anything. Thank you guys for letting me rant a bit.

Hello. I'm a 22-year-old male, and I experienced a lot of horrible things during my childhood. (Please bare with my story telling)

When I was 9 years old, my family moved to another city because my mom needed treatment for an illness. My parents weren't really able to explain that we were moving. Honestly, I don't even know if they knew we'd be staying there for a long time.

Since I thought it was only temporary, I stayed behind in our old house for a while because I had a tiny store that I ran. (Yeah, I was a little businessman selling candies and toys.)

My parents trusted one of my uncles to stay with me at night because they had helped him through high school. But as a child, I didn't understand that he was sexually abusing me. Every night for about two weeks, he would force me to touch his penis and masturbate me while we were playing on my PS2. He kept telling me not to tell my dad because it was "our secret."

Eventually, my parents decided we'd permanently live in the other city, and they took me there.

We lived in a house with my grandmother (my grandfather's sister), her husband, and their children. The first few months were okay, but later my grandmother became physically and emotionally abusive. I remember coming home from school one day, and she suddenly screamed at me in front of her friends, pointing her finger at me and saying I'd never achieve anything in life.

Her husband was also abusive. One time, while he was drunk, he twisted my arm just because I was laughing and playing with my friends. He called me over and asked why I was so happy.

A lot of things happened even after we moved back to our own house. I was sexually abused again by another uncle, and later by a church member when I was in high school.

Here's the part I've been struggling with.

I know there are a lot of factors that shaped who I am today, and my childhood trauma is one of the biggest ones. When I hit puberty, I became addicted to online sexual chats and mutual masturbation. I constantly looked for validation from strangers, especially when they complimented my body. That addiction lasted until I was 19.

Throughout my teenage years, and even now, I've been afraid of becoming close friends with men. I usually avoid interacting with them. Even casual physical contact, like putting an arm around my shoulder as a joke, makes my body shake almost immediately.

It caused a lot of problems in my life, and when I was 20–21, I became su\*c\*dal.

The hardest part is that when I told some friends and family members about it, they asked me, "Why are you still affected? That happened a long time ago."

So I just want to ask:

Is there a time limit to childhood trauma?

It's not that I don't want to move forward. I do. It's just that I still haven't found the help or the way to heal. But I know I'm trying, I'm trying so hard to find that help, and I'm trying so hard to keep living.

So kindergarten is only opened on weekdays but my parents who are as smart as rocks, thought it was smart idea to drop me off their on weekends where a pervert teenager molested me bc no one is there.

I was remembering my the Kindergarten was empty when it happened........ugh I feel ashamed and betrayed , I've no one to talk to about it but I know I don't hate my parents for nothing.....

I didnt get justice but i know how the world works now and its gross

I’m reminded of it every single day. I used to be tied up for extended periods of time (like 10hrs+ sometimes) and developed lifelong nerve/joint damage from it. Every single day it serves as a reminder about the things that happened. I also still have a couple scars to remind me of it.

My girlfriend was also abused and has no feeling on one side of her clitorous (sorry to be graphic).

I know this is a difficult topic but just wondering how common this is and what kind of physical injuries survivors deal with

Growing up I (23 M) was taken advantage of for multiple years by a male teacher at the daycare owned by my mother. When I was 2 my mom opened said daycare and from that moment on it consumed every facet of her life. Between financial stress, logistics, issues with the building, and working with the kids we were always there. When I wasn’t in school, I was there.

One of her first employees, and quite frankly the best one she had, was a younger gay guy named Alex. He stayed late, worked long hours, and earned her trust. Alex and I quickly became close as well and he would watch me whenever my mom couldn’t. At that time Alex was the only consistent male I saw in life so I was always eager to spend time with him. I can’t remember when the abuse actually started but he had easy access to me from ages 2 on and would change and bathe me a lot.

By the time I was in elementary and then middle school I started doing odd jobs around the school like cleaning and basic admin stuff which brought me even closer to him. It was around this time that more sexual abuse started and was framed as a game. Looking back it was always something I wanted it seemed. It was a game I wanted to play, time I wanted to be with him, and I even remember asking him to sleep with him and even shower with him once.

As I got older I started to realize what had happened. Alex left the state a little while before and it took him being gone for things to click for me. It was also at this time that I started high school and got an in depth look at how crushing this business was for my mom. I became the newest (unpaid) employee and spent my teen summers changing diapers, comforting crying kids, making lunches, and spending countless hours making sure my mom’s business stayed afloat.

The business inevitably went under. She made no money on it and was left in mountains of debt. Around that same time too Alex took his own life, handing her an even bigger defeat. I never told her what had happened as I never wanted her to feel bad, ashamed, and even at a young age sought to protect her. I am also left conflicted as I am now gay and Alex was the first one to ever acknowledge that with me. I know everything he did was wrong but feel comfort in nobody knowing and letting it be at peace.

Is this a sort of thing that anyone else has experienced? I know I’ll never get any closure and so I’ve made my own. Is that healthy?

DMs are open, yes.

I will start this post by saying that I have blocked the man who did this. He lives far enough away and thankfully does not know my real identity.

I met him on (insert dating app here), I know right? What was I expecting? Let's call him M so it's easier. M is 24, I am 23. He was pretty cute when we chatted. Felt like one of those golden retriever types. I told him many times I was genuinely only looking for friends. Yes, I was looking for friends on a dating app. I'm very shy in real life and approaching people online is much easier.

He wants to go to the park, drink something, get some snacks. Sounded wonderful. Multiple times I told him I wasn't in the mood for more. He agreed. We meet. I feel as relaxed as I can. Then he doesn't take us to the park. He drives like 10 km out of the city to a clearing in the middle of a forest. Okay... I freak out. Internally of course, he can't realize I'm nervous or it will end badly.

I genuinely had told my mom I'd be back in an hour. I tell him this over and over. It had taken us like 10-15 min to even get there. There's other cars there. Clearly a makeout spot. This thought pops in my head. What if he told his friends and they're in one of the other cars.

The drive there he talked about how women aren't clear about what they want. How he doesn't go for any woman. How I was special. This was what made me panic. I realized this was the worst situation I could be in. And then he pulls me out the car. Hugs me. Digs himself into me. Again and again. I pull away, push away, keep my hand against his chest. He didn't even buy me the right drink. It was there that I knew what this all was.

He's wearing a hoodie, but it's summer. About 25 degrees outside. He's not fat or unattractive. If you're a guy sticking with this story, why did he wear that fucking hoodie. Anyway. I'm shaking, sweaty and this guy keeps groping me, touching me. I tell him I have to go home. He tells me to get in the back. My heart drops. I'm being as kind as I can. "It's better to stay in the front". So in the front we go after like 10 minutes of semi arguing.

He keeps asking if I'm comfortable. I ask him what he means by that. Obviously I wasn't, but he wasn't actively r#ping me. He had this look in his eyes. To this day I can't tell you if it was entitlement, sadness, disappointment or lust. He's not much bigger than me. Thank fuck I'm a tall woman. But, then he yanks me to him, my face in his face forcing me to look in his eyes. I can't. As I pull away his hand goes around my neck. He doesn't squeeze. Not necessarily. He doesn't need to. He tests it. Like convincing himself that if he wanted to he could.

I'm extremely uncomfortable. I keep tapping my leg to the car floor. I have no plan if he chokes me. I have no plan as he gropes me. I think I should throw up. Bite him. But, I'm in the middle of a forest, 10 km away from civilization. If the police find out, my mom finds out. I can't have that happen.

Fun fact, I'm a big masochist. Had it been even a percent consentual, I would've been so far into his pants. I would've been his pants. But, not once did I think I wanted it. I didn't. I thought about crying, begging. My mom's waiting. I'm an only child, I have a cat. I have shit to lose and I wanted to live. He tells me to get the snacks he got me. Which he didn't eat himself. In a very me fashion I say "I can't, that would mean I'd owe you."

He drives me home. We argue the entire way over that one sentence. As if he hadn't sexually harassed me for two hours. As if he hadn't made me fear for my life. He forced me to kiss him. Not proud of it, but in all honesty I would've kissed him 50 times if it meant he never touched me.

We talk for another two days. He keeps saying I'm never gonna see you again, am I? Obviously not. I wake up early, without a word blocking him everywhere. Now I'm safe at home. I've realized a man unwilling to go out in the city is a man who just wants sex.

Always have a plan. It's the worst feeling to be 10km out with next to no service in the car of a person who wants your flesh. If you find yourself in my situation, tell the man you're on your period. It works, but it might not. It's still a barrier. Next time this happens, I might just try the "I'm Hiv positive" route. Op out.

I feel like I know the answer, but I’ve been ruminating for way too long and honestly crave someone else’s perspective. Google says she was but that validation’s kinda impersonal and the AI nonsense doesn’t help.
Anyway. I’m a 20 year old woman now, but all of my separate sexual trauma has been haunting me for the past week or so. More than the baseline. It’s annoying. It has me considering my wretched mother too. Most of my issues with her are emotional- her clear resentment of me, the scapegoating, the hitting, the neglect, the whole shebang. I’ve been thinking back on the sexual stuff too.
I have memories from the ages of 8-14 of her groping and squeezing my backside. Fondling? It was a habit, almost. I also remember tearing up and begging her to stop. And her maniacal laughter. I forgot what her justification was, if there was any.
From my understanding, she’d primarily do this when there weren’t any other people around. She wouldn’t lead me to her bed or anything- remember being in the kitchen so many times and her popping up behind me. Micromanaging what I was cooking or planning on eating or even yapping about how much I resembled a grandmother with my hair in a low ponytail like that as per usual. All of a sudden, she’d just reach down and squeeze my backside. Like it was some kind of joke. Often with random comments attached that I can’t remember.
This went on for years. I don’t think anyone her. She’d also make weird comments (once remarked that my red underwear was visible through my lighter pajamas and strangely, my father actually told her to stop). IDK whether he was aware of the constant groping or not. She also once said I’d make a lot of men happy one day when I happened to be kneeling on the counter cleaning something. I was fourteen at most.
I guess I came on here to ask if this qualifies as molestation. Again, I’m pretty sure I know the answer, but I long to hear it from a human being.
Sorry for rambling. One more thing before I finally end this ridiculously long ask: I’m considering pursuing criminal charges.
Not right now; in a couple years. Apparently, the state of NY has extended the window for survivors of child sexual abuse to report it. Suing her would likely be easier but I want her in jail.
According to the minimal research I’ve done, it’s possible that what she did could be prosecuted as a Class B felony. Up to 25 years in prison plus sex offender registry.
The consequences of this would extend far beyond the court-ordered ones, so I will have to think about how that’ll pan out as well. I do have a little sister to worry about too.
Again, sorry for rambling. I think I’m just trying to make sure Google was actually right.

*** TW ***

I (24F) have been lurking here for a while and I've been off and on about whether to post about my story, so I made this burner account so I could. Thank you to so many of you for showing me that it's ok to share my experiences and feelings about my abuse without being judged.

My dad (50) started with me when I was very young, at least as long as I can remember, so probably 3-4. I know that by 5 it had become a usual thing so that's how I know it happened earlier.  My mom and dad divorced not long after I was born and my mother did not want the hassle of raising a kid so my dad had full custody although I visited my mom a few times a year.

My dad never hurt me physically with what we did. No penetration, it was touching, kissing, rubbing, and mutual oral. Over time he got me hooked on orgasms and made sure I was "taken care of" as long as I made sure he was too. I didn't know any better obviously at first, he convinced me that it was a special secret thing between dads and daughters. It wasn't until I was probably around 8 that I realized what we were doing was wrong. But he made me feel so good that I looked forward to our times together and it continued until I was 13.

When I was 9 I told a close friend about what my dad and I did and I could tell by her reaction that her and her dad didn't do it. I quickly laughed and told her I made it up. As far as I know she never told anyone. And it never occurred to me to tell my mom either since we were distant and I figured she knew anyway.

But I'm hypersexual as a result and have to admit to myself that I enjoyed it and also miss it with him. I feel so conflicted about that. The intense feelings of wanting it again yet knowing how society would judge me if I gave in to my feelings.

I've probably posted about this before but I'm not sure. My parenting style is very open when it comes to physical touching and nudity. My boundaries are relaxed and I never take issue with how my kids explore their curiosities. I dont hurt or force them obviously, but I do need outside perspective which i cant get from anywhere else .

I am older so when i was molested I had no idea it was even wrong, no internet or sex education to tell me, I just thought it was all part of growing up.

I went to an all boys boarding wshool when i was 8. The older boys, 13 would pick on a new boy and "train" them to please them. I was always the quiet and vulnerable one so i guess i was easy prey. I loved the attention and grew to love letting them do whatever they wanted. At 11 i was raped by the headmaster, but he was the authority figure, so why would i question it? When i left that school I became vey withdrawn which my mother noticed which resulted in her being "over protective" and i let he do whatever she wanted,

when a little older i realised how wrong it all was and just buried it deep. It wasnt until i was older i realised how it had affected me, trust issues, a need to please my lovers, getting aroused by my past.

I finally decided to find a therapist, mostly around my guilt for not knowing anythning and for the continued arousal i felt as it didnt make any sense. I was so lucky and found one when had been through it all too and why they chose to be a therapist. Over time i grew to accept who i was and why and that being aroused wasnt uncommon and that some use it as part of how they deal with it.

I was able to finally move on, yes i still have those feelings, but no guilt and can live a better life. I still have trust issues and do seem to attract those with similar pasts but i have a good life all things considered.

I hope others out there who struggle find some form of help. There is no set recovery, we all heal in our own way at our own speed, so don feel you have failed, just keep going. I hope that helped in some way that you can move on.

Not sure if this is the right place for this

I (f32) was introduced to stuff online when I was younger. Webcam and chat sites were a big part of my development. This led to IRL meeting and years of abuse.

Internet is so damaging

Back in my 30’s I got drunk at a party and ended up getting pretty much gang raped but 3 other guys that were there. They threatened me and pretty much told me that I was theirs and they continued the sexual stuff. They had broken me and left me very submissive and any way I’m still pretty ashamed all these years later. And even more so because now I get turned on by remembering it and end up masturbating to those thoughts a lot. Sorry for being all over the place but just getting this off my chest a little.

the bottom line is that I grew up with him and my mother, and he was a very strict disciplinarian. I was beaten extensively from around age 11 until the time I went away to university, and while at the beginning it was normally his belt over my jeans, by the time I had entered into puberty, it was any manner of implements on the bare bottom, though mostly with me fully naked. From age 13, I would often have my vagina opened for inspection, from 14 it was often the case that I was fingered, and at 15 he raped me for the first time, my legs strapped to the legs of kitchen table after a hard caning, and he just finally took me and forced his gigantic penis into my virgin hole until he came. That carried on for many years - at the outset, although initially it was very traumatic and non-consensual, before long I was highly sexually excited and would easily reach orgasms multiple times with his fingers or cock or mouth. To give you a measure of how much I enjoyed it, long after I had left home, I used to come back and have to present a "report card" for how I had behaved in the interim, which I presented to him and my mother in the study. I would be so aroused in anticipation on the way home that the front of my underpants would become stained. When I got there and presented the report, I would have to strip naked in front of them both, offer myself for "inspection" and then take a hard beating, before he took me away to fuck the life out of me.
I hate him because of the constant confusion I have had. He’s dead now, but I hate him for the feelings that I still have, hypersexual tendencies and thoughts

For years Iv always been conflicted about what happened.

Did I hate it? Did I enjoy it?

Feelings of guilt for allowing it/wanting it.

It formed me into that adult I am now and I wonder if I would have been a different person or had the same interests as I do now.

M37. After being molested many times around the age of 9 by an older man I've found myself unable to connect to other people. I spent alot of my childhood alone. I used to take copious amounts of psychedelic mushrooms to try to send myself to the underworld where I feel comfortable. I have a night shift job where a patrol a facility in the wilderness. I feel at home wandering the woods at night.

The things that happened to me gave me alot of fantasies about older men that I hate. It feels nearly impossible to talk with people about it or to connect. I know it doesn't make sense but I often feel like I'm going to hell for the things that happened to me.

There’s a lot of weird things that happened to me. Various instances of sex stuff at too early and age, with other kids, etc.

The first time i can really recall it happening directly to me was a sleepover. And ill be honest, after the initial kind of shock, i was fucking hooked. I wanted her to keep molesting me from the minute it started. And it did continue for years after. We were the same age, teenagers.

There was someone so much worse in our lives, though. Also the same age. She fucked us both up. She would sexually harass me all the time, emotionally abuse and bully me. Only once did she really kind of touch me, but at that point i think i wanted it. Probably did the same to the other friend who first molested me. Truly the most awful person I’ve ever met.

First girl I mentioned reached out after years and years. Apologizing. I feel fucked up because i wanted her to keep doing it to me. I kept wanting her to make me feel like a victim. I feel like i made her do it after she started it. Like i need to apologize to her too.

So much if my past is like that. Someone hurts me, but once i show i LIKE it, they back away or start to lay off. Why can’t someone just do it real good one time? Hurt me real bad in a way where even i know i don’t want it? Why does it all have to feel so confusing? Why is being hurt so addicting? Why do i want to keep being a victim so bad?

Stupid. This shit is so stupid.

Not long after my last post, my (47m) wife came home from a trip, and I immediately felt better. All my dark thoughts vanished.

In the roughly one month since then, an opportunity to connect with another damaged person IRL came up. I started to think about everything I wanted to act out, and now I’ve spiraled into full blown dark fantasies again. Fantasies about things that were done to me as a kid, fantasies about things I want to do now, and fantasies about being dead. I dream about them every night.

I passed on the opportunity. Partially because logistically it didn’t make sense, and partially because it was too risky.

In my head, it isn’t cheating, because I would be acting out a fantasy that my wife can’t ever fulfill. Nobody knows the whole story but me. My abusers don’t know the effect they’ve had on me. My wife doesn’t know I was abused. Any time I have mentioned the abuse to a therapist they didn’t want to hear about it.

I wish there was a person I could sit with, tell them my whole story, and have them tell me it’s not my fault. I was 5, I couldn’t choose this life. They could hold me, and maybe after 40+ years I could drop my guard.

Way down inside of me, something is broken that I know will never heal. The itch from a wound healing is still there, but I can’t reach it to scratch. I wish I could rub my soul red and raw and massage away the past.

tw for detail bc im telling the full story

I just have completed mixed emotions about all of this and im sorry if this is all over the place but basically when I (f19) was 11 I met a friend and we became friends very quickly and we would have sleepovers at eachothers places a lot, but she would mainly want to stay at my house (this is a key detail) and pretty early on into our friendship she began to make a lot of sexual jokes and references and we eventually started doing things together like watching porn and trying sex positions with eachother with our clothes on and it wasnt long before we started to actually touch and take our clothes off. we lived very close and we were together almost every day so this was happening every time we saw eachother. it was very intense and it was the only thing wed do and talk about. it wasnt just happening at our houses either, we would do stuff in public places and around people too. there was one instance where we did stuff on a bus. after a few months we were having sex and we would watch porn together to learn new things. we filmed a video of ourselves and im not sure what happened to it. it eventually stopped because of covid and we lost touch for months and then never did anything after that. a few years ago I found out that her dad was arrested for molesting her since she was 4 and I feel so conflicted about the whole thing. I feel like I was sa'd by her but at the same time im a few months older so should I have been more aware and stopped it but now I know what her dad did I feel sorry for her and I knkw that maybe she thought it was normal or something and I feel disgusted at obviously her dad for doing that but also myself because I didnt feel like a victim at the time and most of the times we were with eachother i also wanted it. I just dont know how to feel or if I was even SA'd and if my feelings are valid.

thank you for reading. sorry if this is the wrong place.