In my last two entries, I've been reflecting on how I'm always haunted by memories of being molested by my dad either from when I was 8-12 or 13-15, never memories from either period at once. I've talked it over with my therapist and she explained it's likely because I was going through two entirely different mindsets during each period because with one, I was enjoying it and with the other, I wasn't. I've been thinking on when exactly did I stop enjoying it and thus, ditto the title of this entry.

When I was 13, I sat in on a conversation among my friends talking about how awesome their dads were and that really opened my eyes to the reality of my situation: I was being molested by my dad and had been for years. As I've stated several times before, I always had the idea in the back of my mind that what my dad was doing to me wasn't right, but that day I overheard my friends talking about their normal relationships with their dads led to me having an epiphany. I remember that day was in January, right after winter break in school. During winter break, my dad it to me once and that's the last time I remember enjoying it.

For whatever reason, my dad had stopped doing it once a week like he had been doing for years. Now it was once every other week or every two weeks. He even went over a month without doing it a few times. I think this time he had gone two weeks or so before he did it again one night. I was in my bathroom brushing my teeth, getting ready for bed when my dad came in and told me "I can put you to bed tonight." I knew what that meant as that's what he called it when he'd give me oral right before bed. As much I still hate to admit it, I became eager about it since it had been two weeks since he last did it and I wanted him to make me feel good in the way he did again.

I asked him "What about mom?" I do out of concern that she might overhear us and walk in on it, which I didn't want to happen. My dad tells me "She's been out for a while," meaning she had been asleep for some time. The tone he uses is very nonchalant, indicating I don't need to worry. He tells me to go ahead and finish getting ready, to which I do so in a hurry. When I go to my bedroom, he asks if I'm ready, to which I give a quick "Yeah," before dropping my bottoms and getting into position for him. After I have my orgasm, he tells me goodnight, I say goodnight back and fall asleep quickly, feeling happy like I always would when he would go down on me before bed.

That was the last time that I can remember when I enjoyed it. Two weeks after, the aforementioned conversation between my friends took place and I finally became wiser to what was happening to me. Two weeks after that, he did it to me once again and that was the first time he did it when I was no longer enjoying it. I regret to say I don't remember a whole lot from that time. I only remember we were home alone with my mom out grocery shopping and he told me to get on the couch. I do so, of course, but for the first time, out of fear and not because I want him to. I became completely quiet from then on. When I would speak, it was answering my dad with brief responses.

I don't remember exactly when he started noticing my complete change in demeanor, but I'm pretty sure he did because I remember him asking me if I was okay. I would lie and say I was, but I wasn't and just too scared to say it. I don't know when he figured it out but I know he knew I wasn't liking it anymore, but he never really asked me. Probably out of fear that I would be honest and tell him I didn't want him to do that to me anymore and as I've stated in previous entries, I believe, in his mind, he needed me to be willing in order for him to get off on it too and would just convince himself that I was because I would still let him do it.

Anyway, I covered what happened from then on in previous entries, so I can say the rest is history at this point. But, to the best of my memory, that was when I had stopped enjoying my dad molesting me and when I started hating it. By extension, started hating myself for having enjoyed it all those years and for being too weak-willed to tell him to stop - something I'm still struggling with to this day.

Well you already know the answer to 'weak willed', but because it's good to hear others say it, you weren't. You were a kid. I wasn't 'weak willed' with my pederast. Nor was i 'weak willed' when my mom's second husband would terrorise us with temper tantrums, or quite severely verbally abuse my mom. As for the latter, if she hadn't left him when she did (my middle 20s) I can tell you that just about all the kid had wore off me by then and something bad would have eventually happened- as I came out of my early 20s I had just about had my bait. Because I was now an adult and you don't need to be treating my mom like that. I can tell you I damn sure wouldn't have tolerated the first time he was like that now- but I'm kind of an old man now and don't give a $#%^. I can't fairly judge the 13 year old me too much. He didn't have my bad attitude.

But kids just freeze up.