While pondering my memories, I started having flashbacks of when my friends from school would sleep over. I remember most of the time, my dad would keep clear of them completely. He wouldn’t speak to them or me while they were around and appeared to avoid them at all costs. I think it’s because he molested at least one of them. I have a few memories of one of my friends looking very uncomfortable around my dad whenever she saw him. I think I may have actually saw something once, but my memory is especially foggy there, so I won’t say what. It could just as easily be nothing at all. But what I do remember is one of my friends always looking scared around my dad.

Maybe my dad did molest her one night, either in her sleep and she caught him or he came onto her and she rejected his advances hard. Like me, she didn’t have it in her to tell anyone, but from then on, my dad knew to stay away from her to cover himself. Maybe the rest of my friends too so he wouldn’t be tempted to molest them as well? Assuming he did only molest one. That’s my theory, anyway. But I’m feeling that my dad probably molested at least one of my friends. The behavior from both of them is just too telling. Too familiar.

It’s a shame I ended up growing apart from this friend or else I would have asked her. I really hope I’m wrong about this. If not, I can only hope that she’s okay and if the trauma has come back to haunt her, that she’s found a way to overcome it. As for my dad, I can’t say I’m surprised that he would do something like this. Make it so I wasn’t his only victim. I wrote about how brazen he would get with molesting me in my previous entry, so I know he wasn’t above taking his chances with other girls. But again, I can only hope I’m wrong. But I don’t think I am.

My dad would get very brazen with molesting me to where he would actually do it in public places or otherwise places where we were alone but in the open, so there was still a chance that we could’ve been seen. These times mainly happened when I was 15, but there were at least two times I can remember when I was younger.

The earliest I can remember is when I was 11 and we were staying at a beach house with other relatives for Thanksgiving. The beach house had a hot tub that my dad and I were lounging in late at night. My mom and other family members were there too at first, but they eventually went back inside to go to bed, leaving my dad and I alone. He had me sit on the side of the hot tub and started going down on me, right outside of the large beach house that had plenty of windows where someone could have spotted us. My dad was aware of this and told me to watch the windows for him.

I kept closing my eyes like I always would when he’d give me oral because it felt good and I just wanted to enjoy it. He noticed this and would keep snapping at me to watch the windows. By the third time he told me, he said it angrily. I became scared and wasn’t enjoying it anymore. When I eventually climaxed, he apologized to me afterward and said he just wanted me to keep an eye out for him. One has to wonder why he even bothered if he was that worried about being seen. I don’t know if that was the first time he molested me out in the open, but that is the only time I remember him being so concerned about getting caught.

Another time was when I was 12. We were on another vacation, but this time, it was just me and my parents. My dad told my mom he was going to take me out on a walk to go sight-seeing. But all he did was take me out to somewhere secluded so he could molest me. I remember him having a good look around before he had me lay down on the grass and take off my jeans. He took one more look around before proceeding to eat me out. He didn’t ask me to keep an eye out this time, perhaps because of the previous time he did it in an open area and also made sure this time it was somewhere we were less likely to get caught.

When I was 15, when my dad started doing it just about daily, he molested me in public several times. Many of these took place on occasions where I would be wearing a bikini. When I was at the beach, at a pool or at my family’s creek. I would notice him eyeing me up, looking at my body. Then out of nowhere, he’d ask me to come with him where he would take me to someplace secluded and give me oral sex until I had an orgasm. Obviously, he’d get aroused looking at me and it got to where he couldn’t take it anymore, I guess, and “needed” to go down on me. Even if it meant risking getting caught.

The most brazen he got were two instances I can remember. Once was at a pool at some hotel we were staying at while traveling. I was by myself with just a few other strangers at first, but then my dad ended up coming down to sit by the pool. My mom was still in the room. He had actually eaten me out twice that morning while mom was out doing something so I immediately became anxious when I saw he was there. He ended up telling me I had swam enough and had me get out of the pool. But he snuck me away to some back room of the hotel where guests probably weren’t allowed. That didn’t deter him, of course and we were there a while because he took the time to have his way with my body before giving me oral.

Another time was at a beach with both my parents again. I was sun tanning in my bikini, no doubt my dad was checking me out because he said something to my mom about taking me to go find some tide pools. He took me straight to the women’s bathroom where he had me sit on one of their toilets so he could eat me out. He didn’t take his time with my body this time, probably because he knew he needed to be quick about it. I remember hearing people talking, passing by the bathrooms and my dad not seeming to care as he just went on until...

[ Continued ]

My therapy session for this week had to be canceled and I just learned that it’s canceled for next week as well. Not sure why, but that’s where I’m at now. Damn it… I was hoping to get back to some productive sessions discussing my trauma but now I’ll have to go at least two weeks without it. Hopefully only two weeks. I feel bad for my mom with her own therapy sessions being canceled too. Hopefully she will hold up okay. Her and I haven’t really talked about it again that much. Maybe now we can.

I've spoken with other survivors of abuse online and most of them have gone over well. It's nice being able to open up to fellow survivors of abuse and being someone they can trust to open up to about their experiences. But my interactions with people on this subject hasn't been all pleasant. I get the occasional perv just looking to get off on my experiences. I haven't had that problem here (at least not yet), but I've dealt with it elsewhere.

From my experience, they're never good at masking their intentions. One started off by claiming they're a survival of sexual abuse while also asking me for a pic of myself. I asked them if they're messaging to talk about their experiences if they're just looking for pictures. They responded by telling me I suck and blocking me. Classy.

Some have straight-up admitted that they masturbate to the experiences I post publicly. This actually doesn't bother me that much because I already understand the risks associated with making one's stories regarding molestation public. Certain people getting off on it is just a given. Not that it makes it okay, of course. It just doesn't surprise me is all.

However, I can empathize with those who have a high sex drive as a result of their childhood trauma. I don't have that issue myself, but I understand that it's common among survivors of childhood molestation. I'm willing to talk to them about this problem of theirs and can do so without judging them even if they outright say they can't help but get aroused reading other survivors' stories. So long as they're admitting they have a problem and so long as they're not trying to involve me in their fantasizing.

When they start asking me questions like how would I react if I was being subject to a certain sexual scenario or other sexually-charged questions that directly involve me, hypothetically or otherwise, it's pretty obvious where they're going with it. At that point, I usually tell them I'm no longer comfortable talking with them and wish them well. I've gotten some pretty interesting responses. Some apologize and respect that I don't wish to talk anymore. Others make their true colors known and hand me a series of insults.

Still, most of that doesn't upset me in the least. Not those who admit to jacking off to me being molested, not those who throw a slew of insults at me. The ones that strike a nerve with me are those that play the part of a kind individual when they actually have bad intentions. You just know they're doing it with other survivors as well. I'm wise enough to where I can see the red flags, but not everyone else can.

Especially those who are just looking for someone to open up to about their trauma when they have no one else. The sickos out there that try to exploit that disgust me to no end. Again, I can respect those who are honest with their ulterior motives to a point, for being honest, but it takes a reprehensible piece of human trash to put up a friendly mask just so they can prey on the vulnerable.

I avoid making close connections with those I interact with online, but I'm also protective of vulnerable fellow survivors and actively to warn them of those they talk to. There will always be online predators in some form or another, but the least one can do about it is to inform others of what to watch out for concerning predators in prey's clothing.

An early memory I have of when I was 8, which was the earliest year my dad started molesting me on a frequent basis, is him stopping right in the middle of it, looking and sounding a bit disheartened. He said something to me too, but I don’t remember what. I’ve always wondered what that might’ve been about and mentioned this to my therapist who proposed the idea that maybe he would occasionally feel some regret, which she says was the case of her molester and has heard of similar stories from other survivors. Given other things that happened I can remember, this could very possibly be true.

I remember one time again when I was 8, he had just finished giving me oral sex. Once I had settled down, he started asking me if I was still enjoying this. Me being too young to know better and enjoying it at that point, I answered that I was. Like I said before, he would ask me this while going down on me sometimes, because he liked hearing me tell him it felt good, but this time was different. He kept asking me if I was sure I liked it and if I wanted him to keep doing it. The way he asked seemed like he was looking for a reason to keep doing it, almost like he had some regret.

He would ask me these questions after molesting me on more than one occasion. But only when I was 8 and 9 and he didn’t ask me too many times. I could probably count the number of times he did on one hand. But when he did, it seemed like he might’ve been feeling conflicted about molesting me and his conscious was catching up to him. It was like he was asking me if I was still enjoying it, making doubly sure that I was, as his incentive, to keep on doing it. I’m tempted to blame myself more if this is indeed true, but I’m also trying not to think about that. It could always not be true.

I say all of this in retrospect, of course. I was obviously too young to read if he was feeling conflicted back then. And not that it makes any difference if he was, obviously. I know if he did feel any remorse, any second-guessing, it couldn’t have lasted terribly long because he kept doing it without thinking twice about it. Like I always say, I only write about these things that don’t and shouldn’t matter for myself. To help me make sense of things that happened to me. I don’t care so much if he felt any remorse or not as I do just trying to understand some of his behavior.