Life story finally told (TW)

My first memory of my dad being ab*sive was when I was only 6 or 7. It’s a very mild story compared to the rest but it has always had an impact on me. It was a few weeks before Christmas and my younger siblings had broken the PlayStation while dad was at work. My mom frantically tried to fix it several times but couldn’t. I vaguely remember conversations between my mom and her mother about how upset dad was going to be. So instead of telling him we were told to stay quiet about it and mom would tell him after Christmas. I remember her saying that she didn’t want him to ruin Christmas.

Christmas Day came and mom must have forgotten what present my older brother had gotten. He unwrapped a PlayStation game and I remember being scared. That evening dad told my brother to start the PlayStation up so they could both play the new game. I’m not sure if mom spoke up then or if he figured it out. All I remember was screaming and being sent to the bedroom. Christmas had been ruined.

Looking back now I can see why he was mad but I can also see what was truly wrong with the situation. Everyone was scared of him and *spoiler alert* they still are. My mom could have told him right when it happened but she had already been with him 8 or so years. She knew his reactions and was trying to keep the peace so we could have a good Christmas.

As I have gotten older I have noticed a pattern that when my dad didn’t feel like being physically ab*sive, he could just verbally do it. My earliest memory of this is very mild but it has impacted the way I now speak to my children.

It was my dad’s birthday. I was around 6, my younger siblings were 4 and 2 and my older half brother(my dad’s son) was 10. In my family birthdays are a huge deal and the birthday person is the main character for the day. My dad was already upset because my mom had to work that day and left him home with the kids. We were all playing in the house and I guess we got too loud. My dad yelled at us to go outside and said “You all are ruining my birthday. Stay outside until I say you can come in.”

As a parent I can see how kids can easily frustrate you especially 4 rowdy kids. I can also say that sending kids to play outside isn’t ab*se. The problem was him telling his young children that they were ruining HIS birthday. The day we celebrated just like a holiday. Maybe an apology after he calmed down could have changed my entire memory of this or I wouldn’t have the memory at all. However my dad doesn’t apologize because ‘he is never wrong’.

I thought everyone was scared of their dad. I didn’t know things could be different and it still took me marrying a great man to really know that. I still remember coming home when I was 7 and telling my parents all about my friend, Annabelle. I loved school and would tell them everything that would happen. That is until I told them that Annabelle’s parents had let her watch a Rated-R movie. My dad scolded me for having a friend like her and then came the remarks about her race. She wasn’t white so that’s why her parents were negligent and allowed her to watch that trash. I was told that I could no longer be friends with her and that broke my heart.

I went to school the next day telling her everything and begging her to be my ‘secret’ friend. I told her we couldn’t be seen together at the car pickup line and I couldn’t tell my parents about her anymore. She was confused but agreed to it and we continued our friendship. That was the beginning of the many secrets I kept from my parents because I was scared of my dad.

At age 7 I was called to the counselors office one day at school. I was a good kid so I knew I wasn’t in trouble but I was still very nervous. The counselor was so nice and asked about school, friends and my home life. Then I remember her tone changing and her asking about my older brother and if I knew what kind of grades he got at school. I nodded and told her that he didn’t get good grades. She asked if my dad punished my brother for bad grades. I said yes because dad would often get his belt to whip my brother for bad behavior and bad grades. Then she asked what my dad’s behavior was. I told her that he yelled and got angry and whipped him. She asked if I had ever witnessed my dad grab my brother by the throat and hold up against a wall. I told her no and that was the truth. She thanked me and sent me back to class.

When I got home that day I didn’t tell anyone about the counselor. I was scared of what my dad might say so I put it off for a little bit and then forgot about it. Then a car pulled into the drive way and a police car behind it. Dad and mom went outside and I looked out the window to see the counselor. I’m not sure what all was said but I remember when it was over dad yelled at me for not telling him about talking to the counselor. I’m not sure how or when it happened but my older brother moved to live with his mom after that. My family wouldn’t see or talk to him for 8 years.

Shortly after all of this my parents sold our house and we moved to the next state over. For a long time I thought it was for a career move but now that I’m older I can see that they were running from CPS. My dad was scared that the counselors would get more information and take us from him.

Tigger Warning!!!

Probably a lot of spelling and grammar problems because I typed it and can’t reread it.

I’m going to jump to my most traumatic and disgusting memories and I will come back to the earlier memories later. These are the memories that haunt me almost daily. I honestly have trouble remembering the age I was when this began but I know for sure it had stopped by the time I was 17 and had a boyfriend.

Around the age 12 or 13 I had terrible acne that started. My face was covered in red, swollen pimples but so was my body and that included my breasts. I was horrified and complained to my mom. She bought every product trying to help. On nights she was home during my showers I would ask her to come in and scrub my back with the acne body wash. On nights she wasn’t there I did the best I could because I was to shy to ask my sister or grandmas to help.

I didn’t like that my mom would see me naked but I wanted help with my acne so I would just deal with the embarrassment as she helped. She was always very calm and did what I asked her to even popping the painful blackheads.

The problem started one night when mom was working late. Dad was either working for himself at the time or unemployed so he was home often. My younger siblings were there and so were my grandmas. Dad went to his bedroom for a bit and then called from his room for me to go in there. It was weird but usually that happened someone was in trouble and my parents wanted to have a discussion in private.

When I went in there he had me lock the bedroom and he sat on the end of the bed facing the dresser which had a large mirror attached. I stood in front of him facing him as he began asking me about my acne and then specifically my body acne. He asked me to see it I started refusing because it was weird and embarrassing. He finally made me turn around and lift my shirt showing him my back. He touched all over it and then asked if my front was the same. I said yes and I remember being so disgusted by the way he was talking and touching me.

He made me left my shirt in the front and show him. He didn’t move my bra but he touched all over my stomach and the tops of my breasts.

**

I don’t remember how often but I would say this routine happened at least biweekly. He would call me to his room at night and lock the door. Eventually he would have me remove my shirt completely and my bra. He would touch all over my breast and rub my nipples. He would hold them and just talk about how ugly the acne was on them and to stop picking at them. He said my future husband was going to think my breasts were ugly if they were covered in acne scars.

He would turn me around to face the dresser mirror and then pull me up against his crotch. I was so scared and sick by his actions. I didn’t understand what was happening but I knew it was wrong just not how wrong it truly was. He would just sit there on the edge of the bed for a long time with me up against his crotch and his hands rubbing my chest or holding my breasts. He wouldn’t talk much but just ask me how I feel and sometimes why I was acting so uncomfortable because “I’m your dad. What’s wrong?”

One of the last times before these encounters stopped he had done the usual of having me undress front he waist up and ‘checking’ my acne. Then he questioned if i ever got acne “down there” pointing to my crotch. I was mortified and said no immediately. After he turned me around again holding to to his crotch, he stuck his hand down my jeans touching me down there. It was for less than a minute and I don’t remember if it was over or under my underwear ( I think I hav repressed these memories).

After these stopped nothing happened for a long time but my relationship was completely different with him.

**

A few times even at age 17 I remember my dad asking for a good night kiss before I went to bed. In the living room in front of everyone (mom, my aunt, grandmas and siblings) he tried to kiss my lips when I went for his cheek. He was surprised that I pulled away from him and he grabbed my arm. He said it was no big deal that a parent can kiss their child on the lips. My aunt piped up and said she would kiss her dad on the lips if he was still alive and I should be thankful that I still have my dad around. When i was a lot younger I would just give in but at 17 I refused. I remember him being very upset that “I didn’t love him”.

**

At 16 he called me and my sister into the bedroom for a shirtless back massage. He laid on the bd while we gave him a massage. After 10 minutes or so he told my sister she could leave but he had me stay to rub his lower back and hips. At one point he unbuttoned his pants and laid on his side so I could massage his hip where his pants and underwear had been. He made me move more and more foreword toward his crotch as I massaged.

Then I started touching pubic hair. I was so freaked out. He said “you’re no where near it” and laughed at my clear disgust. I started massaging lighter and moving away from the hair. I was scared to death that he was going to strip down. At this point I knew what sex was and I was scared that’s what this was leading to. He must have felt me freaking out because he told me I could leave and I did. I never gave him a massage after that.

**

At 18 I was getting ready for my senior prom and trying to decide it i wanted the spaghetti straps on my dress or to tuck them in and go strapless. I decided to go braless being it looked the best in the dress. Mom came to check on me in the bathroom ( I was already fully dressed and ready) and I folder her the strap decision I was trying to make. Dad followed her in and said to tuck them in and proceeded to shower his hand in my dress tucking my straps in and rubbing my nipples while doing so. I was so shocked I didn’t say anything. I’m not sure if my mom was still there at that time or if she saw what happened.

**

The times that were the worst that didn’t include physical touch were his odd talk about porn to me. One day he took my tablet and went to use the bathroom. I was called in his room like an hour later and he said he found my search history of porn. I was around 15/16 and watched it almost daily and usually had the history deleted. He first let me know only men and slutty women watched porn. He said real ladies like my mom are disgusted by it and I should never watch it again. Then he started asking me what I like to watch. I refused to answer and just said I don’t know. He told me it was okay to talk about and wanted to know what I like to watch or look up. I still refused to answer. He started naming porn categories and I still shook my head and eventually he let me leave.

I’ve had to stop typing my story. The memories are too hard. I’m having a hard time handling the emotions that with this. I still have a strained relationship with him and I want to stop it completely but it comes with a price. I’m struggling right now and I’m not sure what my next step is.