#SVMyths and sexual abuse (Graphic Content)
Following on from your #svmyths tweets, I felt that I had to contribute.
I was sexually abused by an adult male, my dad, from being a very young toddler. I struggle to remember when it started, simply because I don't have any memories of it not happening.
As far as I was concerned, it was 'normal' behaviour - that was what happened in families. I knew not to tell, but that was only because he said it was 'our secret' and people would take me 'away' if I ever told anyone. I didn't want to be taken away - he was my dad. I adored him.
By the time I was 5, I was proficient at oral sex. I knew not to bite, and what to do when he ejaculated. He taught me, simply as though he was teaching me any other 'life skill', like swimming or riding a bike.
By the time I was 8, I was having regular orgasms - I wasn't able to name them as such (I used to describe them as feeling 'tickly').
He would perform oral sex on me, and for me, this was part of family fun - what families did. I would orgasm, and he'd tell me how 'special' I was.
He trained my body to respond sexually to him, for many reasons, none of which I want to think about too much, but the primary one was probably to convince himself that he wasn't doing anything 'wrong' if I 'enjoyed' it.
I didn't tell anyone until I reach my early teens - and by this time he was raping me. He wouldn't ever describe it as rape, as I was so compliant. I still believed that was 'normal'; that all families had sexual behaviour as part of their make up.
My mum was never someone to confide in, she was jealous of the 'relationship' I had with my dad - looking back, it was an abusive controlling relationship that kept her compliant, too. When she told me about periods, I started to understand that what my dad was doing was wrong, and I started to feel ashamed.
I asked him to stop - I said that I was worried about getting pregnant, and he said he'd 'take care of it' - he said he didn't want our 'special times' to stop because I clearly 'enjoyed it'.
I now knew that nothing would stop him. If he wasn't worried about me getting pregnant, he wouldn't be worried about anything.
When I was 13, my periods stopped. I told him I thought I was pregnant, and he started shouting at me, asking which boys I'd been 'fucking' as he knew I was up to no good. He told my mum that I'd been seen with local boys & was clearly a 'tramp'. When I said I would tell, he beat me so badly that I miscarried.
We had social services involved, and my mum asked if they would take me into care. They did - I was 'out of control'. A 'fantasist'. A 'liar'. They sent me to a psychiatrist. That didn't do much good - I tried to tell him that my dad made me pregnant, and he said I should be truthful, as telling lies about someone was evil.
I didn't try to tell again. I'm quite open about my abuse now, but I never tell anyone that my body betrayed me, that my abuser gave me 'sexual pleasure', and gained gratification from it.
After all, that makes me a 'bad' victim. It makes people question whether the abuse was damaging, or traumatic. It makes people think I enjoyed it, and who wants to defend themselves against that? Not me.
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