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Mother-son incest victim describes shame, and redemption through his son.
Dec. 1, 2009— -- The molestation began as gentle fondling when Gregg Milligan was 4 years old, but it soon escalated to aggressive touching and eventually beatings that would render him unconscious.
For seven years, until Michigan child welfare workers intervened when he was 11, Milligan was too ashamed to reveal that his tormentor was his own mother.
"She was very brutal," said Milligan. "Through her difficulty reaching climax, she would become frustrated and violent, hitting and punching and slapping not only my genitals, but my face and body."
"It was terribly confusing, and it wasn't just the violation," said Milligan, now 46, and director of infrastructure for a major health care provider in Michigan.
As bad as the incest was, things got worse. Milligan's father had left when he was 2, but by the time he was 8, his mother, an alcoholic and a prostitute, invited strange men home who would sexually abuse him.
"Back then I would never tell anyone, not even a sibling," said Milligan, the most "compliant and sensitive" of three children living at home. "I was just too afraid. It was so horrendous for me to believe she actually would do this to me."
One of the unspeakable secrets in the world of child sexual abuse is that mothers can be molesters. Often, they prey on daughters, but more frequently their sons -- who report increased feelings of isolation and sexual confusion along with thoughts of suicide.
Both of Milligan's parents are now dead, but his past still haunts him.
"Around 10 years old, I started to get this unbelievable feeling of dread that if I don't get out I am going to die from the decadence, the debauchery, the forced molestations and the beatings that became more severe," he said. "For three months I suffered from hysterical paralysis."
An estimated one in four girls and one in seven boys will be sexually assaulted or abused before the age of 18, according to the Alabama-based National Children's Advocacy Center . In 27 percent of these cases, the abuse is perpetrated by the child's parents.
Previous studies of day care workers published in 2000 in the Journal of Sex Research, found that women -- without male accomplices -- accounted for only about 6 percent of the abuse of females and 14 percent of males.
But more recent national surveys indicate about 12 percent of all child abuse cases are committed by women -- "a 100 percent increase compared with previous data," according to Chris Newlin, NCAC's executive director.
"We view females as care givers and protectors of children," he told ABCNews.com. "Now we are beginning to understand females are sexually abusing children, and it is occurring much more."
Professionals are stymied by public perception that incest is "an ugly subject," and that women can't commit such crimes.
"If it's a 35-year-old female and a 14-year-old boy, we'd say the boy is getting lucky," said Newlin. "And if it was a 35 year-old male and a 14-year-old girl, we'd call that a pervert."
And boys like Milligan aren't often believed.
"We have this overarching thing that goes back to the Salem witch trials of children making up stories," said Newlin. "You can't trust kids."
Survivors like Milligan say that these crimes often go unnoticed, not just because society can't imagine women as aggressors, but because boys feel riddled with shame.
"There is this terrible stigma that boys crave sex," said Milligan. "We are just as impressionable and naive and just as afraid. How can anything be consensual at 4 or 11 years old?"
He was finally able to tell all in the self-published memoir he took a decade to write -- initially titled "God Must Be Sleeping," he changed the title to reflect a more upbeat chronicle of his survival, "A Beautiful World."
But Milligan has much to be positive about. Though his childhood was ravaged, he has managed to raise a son, now 23, who "has never known violence or abuse."
Today, Milligan is a spokesman for the Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network, sharing his experiences as a survivor.
About 10 percent of all crisis calls to the RAINN hotline are from males, according to program director Jennifer Wilson, who said they get about 100,000 calls a year.
"This crime is hard to track because people just don't share it with law enforcement," she told ABCNews.com.
In September, when child star MacKenzie Phillips went on the "Oprah Winfrey Show" to disclose her father had raped her at the age of 19, calls to RAINN's hotline from incest victims "spiked."
Mothers who sexually abuse tend to have higher rates of mental illness and are often the victims of abuse themselves. They also have easier access to children.
"It's easy for women to go unnoticed," said Wilson. "And at the legal stage, they get lighter sentences."
Because incest is considered taboo, few boys come forward and social service providers are not often trained in detecting signs in women abusers.
One victim, Dominic Carter, a TV news reporter in New York, wrote about his own abuse at the hands of his mother in his 2007 memoir, "No Momma's Boy." Earlier this month, Carter was convicted of attempted assault after a 2008 fight with his wife, and could face up to three months in jail.
As a child, Milligan turned his anguish inward.
"My brother and sister could leave the house and naturally play with friends," he said. "I was petrified to leave mother. The clear sense was that if I did, the punishment would be worse."
His mother also threatened to kill herself and Milligan said he more than once was hit by cars while chasing his mother into the street.
His father was equally volatile, returning once to beat his mother "so bad he left her with an eye hanging out of the socket."
Teachers were also unaware of the abuse. "In their defense, I was kept out of school," he said about his frequent injuries. "My mother was very cunning."
The family was on welfare, but when social service workers paid their visits, the children were "always pushed out of the house and not allowed to come home," Milligan said.
Dr. Carole Jenny, a pediatrician and director of the Child Protection Program at Hasbrow Children's Hospital in Providence, R.I., said sexual abuse by mothers is "really hard to diagnose -- most of the time it's not witnessed."
"Most kids have normal exams, and most parents give a credible history," she said. "Most prepubescent boys and girls don't have any lasting physical findings. Abrasions and redness disappear within 24 hours of the event."
For young children, like Milligan, who eventually called an older married sister to intervene, getting help is difficult.
"I was sneaking money and stealing coins and running down to the pay phone and begging, 'Please come and save us,'" he said. "She eventually did but was reluctant because she was afraid."
After a court battle -- his mother unsuccessfully sought custody -- Milligan lived for a time with his sister, immersing himself in books and trying to catch up.
He had missed so much school that he could only read at a third-grade level.
"I could tell time and tie my shoes, but I struggled through my first book, Dr. Seuss' 'Green Eggs and Ham,'" he said. "I read the whole summer and pored though every book I checked out of the library. By seventh grade I barely passed, but I never quit. I kept trying and trying."
But the abuse took its toll. Until he was 16, Milligan had panic attacks and wet his bed, seeing countless child psychologists and therapists.
But by the time he was asked to leave his sister's at 16, he was an A student and involved in athletics.
Though he drifted out of foster homes and shelter with friends and priests, Milligan eventually went on to college and later graduate school.
"To this day the one question people ask is why I survived," he said. "I don't know, maybe there was something bigger and better than all of us and I tapped in to it. But I remind people it doesn't come without its problems."
As an adult, Milligan now needs medication to sleep and still has chronic nightmares, as well as anxiety attacks. "I find myself carrying around a paper bag, but I've managed to avoid the pitfalls of any addictions," he said.
Some men who are abused by their mothers become hypersexual or addicted to pornography, others avoid contact altogether.
Milligan, too, struggles with intimacy in relationships. His first marriage ended in divorce, but he has since remarried. "She is a wonderful woman and working with me in therapy."
Milligan's "happy ending" was watching his son from the first marriage -- "the sweetest, most gentle young man" -- recently graduate summa cum laude from college.
"If there is any indication of success, it's not me or the fact that I graduated from college or writing a professional position," he said. "It's my son -- he has never known violence, only love."
But his own attitude has also fueled Milligan's recovery. "I wanted to focus on the possibility of change and perseverance," he said. "I honestly don't know why I chose to read instead of doing drugs."
With good treatment, many male victims like Milligan do survive, according to Nancy Cotterman, director of the Broward County Sexual Abuse Treatment Center in Fort Lauderdale, Fla.
"I don't think they ever forget, but there are many who become empowered adolescents and adults."
What's lacking, say experts, is public awareness of mother-son abuse.
"We have the laws we need, the professionals in every profession and a tremendous network of highly trained and capable individuals in the U.S. to respond to sexual abuse," said NCAC's Newlin. "The greatest challenge is that it is such an ugly subject that most people have a hard time wanting to pay attention to it"
For free, confidential, 24/7, call the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-HOPE or go to the online hotline.

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I watch a young mother climb into the swimming pool with her 3-year-old daughter. They wrap their arms securely around each other and playfully bob up and down. Not a hint of distrust crosses this child's face; she appears confident of her mother's love and protection.
After a few moments, the mother attempts to place the child into an inflatable toy ring. Protesting, the little girl begins to kick her feet and cling desperately to her mother's neck. The mother tries to assure her daughter that she will not be left adrift, but her efforts fail.
Acknowledging the fear, the mother tosses the ring onto the deck and gently kisses her daughter's cheek. A smile of success and relief appears on the child's face.
The memory surfaces of myself as a small child: My arms are wrapped around my father's neck while swimming in a lake. I see the same joy on my face as I just saw a moment ago on the child's, until my father reaches his hand under my swimsuit to fondle me. My look of joy suddenly turns to one of shame and fear.
Today, I am left with an image of horror and betrayal.
I acknowledge another equally painful memory, of my mother, who did not protect me from my father. I look at the little girl in the pool and wish that I could have felt the same bond of trust with my mother that she feels with hers. Tears form in my eyes, and I dive into the water so they will go unnoticed.
Vulnerability is difficult to expose to others, but now I can allow myself the relief of crying. For most of my life, the pain was buried under the defenses that I had developed to emotionally survive the incest. ::
My father, a former police officer, began to sexually abuse me at the age of 3 and continued until just prior to my 16th birthday. His assaults ranged from manual stimulation to oral, anal and vaginal penetration. As a child, I did not understand what my father was doing. It seemed that he was providing me with the love and affection that a child desperately needs from a parent. Only after he began to mention the word "secret" did I question if what we were doing was right.
My father never physically forced me to participate sexually with him until my mid-teens. His force was emotional. He was my father, and I trusted him.
Between the ages of 13 and 15, I informed four people of the incest: my mother, a physician, a schoolteacher and my best friend. None of them believed me. Yet my behavior at the time indicated that there was, in fact, something seriously wrong in my home environment.
I was desperately crying for help -- through bedwetting, truancy, poor academic performance, attention-seeking behavior, self-destructiveness, hypochondria, chronic depression, fatigue and eventually drug and alcohol abuse and promiscuity.
Physical indications of sexual abuse were also present, such as chronic upper respiratory, kidney and bladder infections, as well as gynecological problems and rectal bleeding. My entire physical and emotional being screamed for someone to recognize that something was deeply hurting me.
At 16, no longer willing or able to endure any further abuse, I ran away from home. A week later, my father found and brought me home, only to beat me and throw me physically out onto the sidewalk. My mother's immediate concern, I felt, was that the neighbors might see what was happening. I walked away knowing that I would never return home, even if it meant ending my own life.Putting aside my fear that again I would not be believed, I sought the help of a social worker at the county mental health center. Finally, someone knew that I was telling the truth. She looked at the bruises on my face and said that it was her responsibility to report child abuse to the Department of Social Services. She asked me if I would talk to a case worker. I said yes; she dialed the telephone.
As she talked to the case worker, my heart raced. I was terrified of what would happen next. Would my father go to jail? Would I be sent to a foster home?
That telephone call led to my father's indictment and a trial. Although I was relieved to be out of my parents' home, the thought of testifying against my father in court was horrifying. I was breaking the silence that he demanded I keep -- I was betraying him. I felt ashamed, as if I were to blame for the abuse and should have been able to stop him.
As I testified, I could see the hate in his eyes. My mother sat next to him; I had been abandoned. Her support of my father strengthened my belief that I was a very bad person.
At the end of the court proceedings, my father was convicted of criminal sexual conduct in the fourth degree. His sentence was a two-year probation, with an order for psychiatric treatment and a $750 fine.
My sentence was the emotional aftermath of the abuse.
Ten years have passed since the trial, and at age 26 I look back on the painful process of recovering. Healing the wounds of my childhood has required more than the passage of time.
In fact, most of this time was spent in a state of emotional denial. On an intellectual level, I knew that I had been a victim of incest, along with physical and emotional abuse. But on an emotional level, I felt numb. When talking about my experiences, it was as though I were speaking about someone totally separate from myself.
I lived from crisis to crisis, was unable to maintain a healthy intimate relationship and continued to abuse alcohol. I was financially irresponsible, chronically depressed, a compulsive overeater and lived in a fantasy world. Yet at times my behavior was the opposite: super-responsible, perfectionist, mature, overachieving and ambitious -- to the point of near exhaustion.
Behavior that I had developed as a child to protect myself from my father was also still present. I would sometimes awaken in the night, screaming for my father to leave me alone. Locking bathroom and bedroom doors, out of fear that someone would attempt to enter and violate me, was common.
The greatest effect of the abuse was the profound sense of guilt and shame that plagued me on a daily basis. I hated myself. No matter how hard I tried to feel good about myself, feelings of shame and worthlessness would surface. I continuously sought the approval of others. Surely someone would think that I was a good person if only I tried hard enough to please them. I would do almost anything for a friend or my employer to gain approval, even if that meant neglecting or overextending myself.
At times, my guilt would overwhelm me to the extent of becoming suicidal. I wanted to end the pain, not my life, but the two were deeply enmeshed. I desperately wanted someone to rescue me from my pain. Turning others into parental figures and expecting to be taken care of was a way of survival. I didn't have to face my losses if I could maintain the fantasy that someday I would have the kind of parents that I needed.
Eventually, I recognized my need to return to professional counseling. I had been in psychotherapy during the court proceedings, and again five years later.
This time, along with therapy, I sought the help of an incest survivors' support group. Being in the presence of others with similar experiences helped me feel that I was not alone in my quest for recovery. Hearing other victims talk about their sorrow, fear, rage and confusion allowed me to share my own feelings with them. We supported each other with acceptance and understanding, affirming that it was safe to grieve. Together, we acknowledged our need to learn ways of parenting ourselves. The skills that our parents should have taught us as children were absent. Essentially, we were growing up all over again.
In therapy, my social worker helped me become familiar with the little girl that I still carried with me -- the little girl who was hurt by her parents and needed me as the adult to love and accept her. First, we looked at how I treated the part of myself that was still a little girl. When she would cry for help, I would usually stifle her as much as my parents had. I learned that my self-abuse was directed at my little girl; I didn't want to acknowledge her existence. I was certain she was demanding, rebellious and a rotten little kid. After all, wasn't this the message that my parents had given me?
To help me get to know my little girl, I gave her a name that felt affectionate. "Punky" was a nickname that an aunt called me, so this was my choice. In therapy, I worked on teaching Punky to trust that I would not try to quiet her if she wanted to share her pain with me or my social worker. Learning to listen to her gave me tremendous insight into my own needs, feelings and behavior. Eventually, Punky learned that it was safe to trust -- not only me, but also others.
Trust is the foundation of a child's life; my father exploited that trust through incest. Without the ability to trust, i
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Icstor Incest Story Porno