My Dad Licked Me

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My Dad Licked Me
My father sexually molested me throughout my entire childhood
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I am a fairly "normal" 31 year old woman, married with several kids. My father sexually molested me and my little sister since before I can remember. Here is the fucked up part though. I don't hate him for it. I actually remember those times pretty fondly. Some of my most cherished memories of growing up with him are of the sex stuff we would do together.
Now he wasn't like a "rapist" rapist. He never forced me or my sister to do anything we didn't want to do and always went out of his way to make sure we were enjoying our selves. It just sort of stopped when I hit puberty though. I feel like he really gave me a wonderful confidence and love of my body. My mom knew about it but she was ok with it. She never really participated in any of it though.
I know in some sort of abstract, objective kind of way that this is super fucked up and that I really ought to see a therapist but that was just not my experience with it. I mean, I still go to see my folks regularly but I always watch my kids really close when we are over there and they are never allowed to spend the night there. I know my experience was good but I don't want to risk that theirs would be different.
I talk to my sister about it occasionally, and she often expresses a similar feeling. Sometimes when we have a few glasses of wine we'll end up of reminiscing about some of the "games" Dad used to play with us. My sister is pretty much the only person that I have ever talked about this with. My husband I think suspects something because of how insistent I am about not leaving my kids alone with my Dad but he has never directly asked and I have never told him.
I dunno what I am trying to achieve here. I feel guilty a lot of the time for not feeling bad about my experiences. Does that makes sense? I know I probably should have turned him in a long time ago but I just can't bring myself to. I think the statute of limitation has probably already run out anyway. Not only because I love my Dad and don't want to see him go to jail but also because I really don't feel like he did anything wrong. He was just loving us and bringing us good feelings.
What did he actually do to you and your sister that was sexual?
But what if he is/was having sex with other small children as well? There's a chance that their lives have/will be ruined.... Have you not thought about that before?
It's possible but I don't know of any other children that he has had access to like that. I can't say for sure but I think if I found out he was sexually active with any other children I would take steps to stop it.
If it honestly didn't affect you in a negative way, that's fine and you shouldn't force yourself into feeling guilt. You are right by not letting your kids be alone with him. I would never ever ever let them be alone with him. Ever.
Well it's definitely your decision rather or not you go to the police or not.
That said, I think you should consider to tell your husband about what has happened. He needs to know the kind of parents your father and mother are.
You may do everything you can to keep your kids away from them now, but if something were to happen to you, or if you were away for some reason, your husband might decide to leave them in the care of your parents....not knowing why that would be a horrible idea.
That is a really good point. I am starting to reconsider not telling my husband. It may be time for us to talk.
Do you have any negative feelings about it whatsoever?
Not to be too graphic, but to what extent did it go?
I really don't have any negative feelings about it whatsoever, other than the conflict where I feel like I should have negative feelings about it.
Things went pretty far actually. Oral sex both giving and receiving, lots of fingerings and handjobs. When I got older, like 9 or 10 we had some penetrative sex but it was always super gentle. There was some anal play as well, mostly putting stuff, like my and my sisters hands up there.
If you won't let your kids around him alone, even how "gentle and loving" he was, that speaks to some inner trauma or ambivalence that doesn't ring true with this "wow how positive" vibe you got going on.
Would you have sex with your own children, no matter how gentle? If you found out that your father had sex with one of your children, that would be okay as long as the kid was "consenting"? Or would it bother you?
I dunno. Thats the tough part. I wouldn't allow my kids into that situation because I don't know for certain that they would come out viewing it like I do and it seems better to err on the side of caution here. You know? I really don't have any reservations about my feelings, but I just can't make that decision for someone else.
This is an interesting, and for me, a new perspective on incest. Thank you for sharing it.
Have you ever shared this with any of your friends?
I just confessed practically this same confession to someone last night, so I thought I should google it to see what is up with me not being bothered by it. I am 32 and I only had a couple of isolated incidents rather than something ongoing. I also have no desire to "do" anything about it. There is so much water under that bridge. After a second it just got weird and we stopped and never discussed it. I have never cried, been upset about it, nor do I feel it has any bearing on who I am sexually or otherwise today. Thank you so much for your confession!
im sorry but this is the most fucked up thing i have ever read. your dad need to be sent to prison he is a child molester and there is something wrong with him. now i am not judging, cuz i know it says in the rules not to judge, but what happened to you and your sister is really not ok and your dad needs to be put away with the other scumbag child molesters and rapists. i mean you cant even trust your own kids around him! what does that tell you? you shouldnt have to feel that way towards your own parents. i hope you get help.
A kid who was raised in a war-zone will find war normal and will have fond memories about the war-zone. Why? Because that's all he knows. That's what "normal" is to him. The medium where you grow up is what "normal" will be to you. The same way many of you have fond memories of the times when you were playing hide and seek, she has fond memories of the abuse.
You, op, ARE affected by the abuse. Know how I can tell? The thing that's keeping you from molesting your kids is the fear that they might be scarred. Not the thought that it's wrong. Which suggests that you might possibly wish to molest them too. No blaming tho, because that's what your dad made "normal" be for you.
As someone who was sexually abused by their father I am finding this very difficult to understand. If he really did love you he would never have made you endure that abuse. Do you really think for one second he thought you and your sister would be "thankful" for it? No, he didn't give a shit about how it would effect you and until he is brought to justice that lack of impulse control will remain, making him a danger to other children.
It's actually very common for people who are sexually abused as children to feel as if their abuse was a normal thing. If your mother knew it was going on and had no problem with it, she was likely abused as a child as well. You and your sister both need to see a therapist, there's going to be a lot of psychological damage that neither of you may even be aware of. This is not normal. And it is not okay. You don't have to tell anyone right now, but you need to see a therapist.
What ridiculous advice. Bad things can happen to people without them being permanently scarred/traumatized. Also, therapy's real-life success record is pretty dubious.

I woke up to my father sexually molesting me when I was 11
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I've been seeing a lot of these confessions on Reddit and I thought I would give it a go. Beware: there's a lot of back story.
I was 11 years old when my father came back from prison (he had been there since I was 3). I don't know exactly why he was in there for so long, but I remember going with my mom and visiting him on conjugal visits. We'd travel for hours by car, it seemed, through the desert and mountains. When we'd get there, we'd be assigned to a trailer where my mother and father would "reunite". By that, I mean they would have loud sex accompanied by the sound of the bed springs being pounded into, while I played a game of Sorry! or Monopoly by myself, trying my hardest to drown out the sounds -- I knew exactly what they were doing and it sickened me.
Then my parents would come out afterwards, I don't remember what we did in the hours that they weren't having sex. All I remember is desperately wishing that I had a sibling to distract myself. There weren't any other kids to play around with on prison grounds.
I'm pretty sure I knew what sex was since I was a toddler. I had to sleep on the same waterbed as my parents. My father would tell me to turn the other way while they started, and finished, with me not even three feet away.
I believed my hatred for my mother during childhood stemmed from those particular visits. We screamed at each other, we shoved, I wrote "I hate mommy" in the books she worked hard to buy me (we lived in a shit house, infested with cockroaches and rats), tried to run away, I stole money from her (to buy flashcards, of all things) and I envied my friends who had loving mothers and fathers.
Although, I think now that it must not have all been horrible---she sewed my clothes, packed me lunches and made sure there was a different meal on the table every single day, despite the fact that we were relatively poor. We were able to afford a cat (I had begged her for one for years).
But I digress...extremely. Anyways, by the time my father came home from prison, my mom had been trying to divorce him for years. To exact revenge, he would bring women home to our house and fuck them while she slept in another room.
This is when she left me with him. She had bought a laptop and was on the internet quite a lot. My father got pissed and took an axe to it, destroying it. He kicked my mother out, beating her (this was common when I was baby, I heard. I remember bits and pieces). I wanted to run after her as she left out the front door, but he pulled me back by my hair and told me to forget about her.
Later, I went back into their room and heard a knock at the window. It was my mom, telling me she loved me and that she would come back for me. She moved 2 hours away after that, living with a roommate she used to work with.
I'm not exactly sure how much time passed. As a kid, a month is forever. I told people that I had decided to stay with my father because he needed me (although, my mom told me that I wanted to go with her but she couldn't take me because the house she would stay at had no room).
I'm not even sure the sexual molestation happened all in one day. I remember an instance where he made me shower with him. I was reluctant, to which he said "I saw you naked when you were born, what makes you think there's a difference now?"
I remember feeling something at my back, and I knew, I just knew it wasn't an innocent thing. For some reason, he picked me up, I don't remember how it happened but I ended up falling on my face in the shower and we got out after that.
I remember him turning around, spreading his...cheeks...asking me if his anus moved while he farted.
The last thing I remember was him telling me to sleep in his bed because he was renting out my room to someone (it never happened). He told me to take my pajamas off. Later that night, I awoke to his hand between my legs, fondling me.
I think I went back to sleep, too afraid that if I moved or let him know that I was awake, that he would beat me senseless.
When I woke up that morning, I started getting ready for school. That's when he told me "I'm a bad daddy". I don't remember my reaction. The next thing I remember was arriving at my elementary school. I was really friendly with the staff. I looked up to the janitor, Charlie, as a father figure. I helped him pick up trash and spoke to him everyday, as well as the playground attendant, Melinda. It so happened that in the morning, she asked me how I was. I replied "Not good." She asked me why, and I told her that my dad had touched me. She then became very serious and took me to the principal's office.
I had to tell the principal what happened. Then he called the police and I had to tell them what happened. Then I left in a police car to the station, where I had to to go into those rooms you often see in television shows, where there's the one way mirror, a table and some stuffed animals so the kid isn't scared as fuck. I told the detective everything, just as I told everybody else.
They police made me call my father on a blocked line (I think that's what they're called). They gave me a script, telling me to tell him that I was staying at a friends house for the night. Well, that fell through because my friend's mom called him and told him I left in a police car. He cursed at me and told me to "get the fuck home now". The policeman took the phone from me and hung it up, telling me I did a really good job.
Not sure what happened during this time either, but I ended up going to court. The judge told me that I should testify against him. By then, I remember feeling so sick and tired of telling people this story that I said I didn't want to. That and I had this image of a courtroom (I'd only ever seen one on television) full of people, watching me speak. The judge assured me that it wasn't like that. He came up with a solution to record my testimony, I still refused.
Well, he ended up pleading guilty. I remember the day, but not his voice or what he looked like. I remember an orange uniform, hands locked in front of him in handcuffs.
Then I was in a foster home, where I stayed for I don't know how long. I went to court one last time, where they said I'd be staying with my aunt and uncle (my father's brother). I remember thinking "Yes! They have the Nintendo 64 and Super Mario Bros!"
I lived with them for about a year, I guess. Then I went to go live with my mom. The phrase "absence makes the heart grow fonder" couldn't ring any truer. I had sorely missed my mother.
Time passes, eventually I end up "hating" my mom (we really can't live under the same roof for very long). I go through middle and high school, she goes through another husband. They divorced and I chose to stay with my stepdad because I would have my own room, whereas my mom only had a one bedroom condo.
Truthfully, I never really looked up to this guy as a father. In my late teens, somewhere around sophomore and junior year, weird things started happening. He wanted more hugs, he invited me to sit on his lap and he would kiss me on the lips good night. I didn't know what a normal father-daughter relationship was so I thought I was just being awkward.
One day, I faked sick and asked to stay home from school. This guy always let me skip school, one of the reasons I did poorly during junior year. He told me that he noticed I'd been tired lately and thought I might have mono. So he gave me a medicine that is usually issued to the marines before they deploy to overseas or something like that. Now, I've never been high but I imagine that I was somewhere near being so when the medicine kicked in. I was seeing colors above me head while I was lying down in bed. I was trying to reach out and touch them.
I vaguely remember sleeping and hearing my door open when I could have sworn I locked it (I always locked my bedroom door for privacy). I just pretended I was fully asleep so I could avoid answering any of his questions, I didn't feel like talking. Then something funny happened. I feel the blankets shift, as if he was lifting them to look under. I pretended to roll over in my sleep and he dropped them, walking out.
When he left, I locked the door once more and stayed awake until the next time he decided to come in. I heard some scuffle at the door, a couple of clicks and all of a sudden, the door opened. He was startled to see me awake. He had picked the locks and told me he was worried about me.
Nothing really happened after that, other than the excessive show of affection. I started dating a guy and I used him as an escape. I moved into his house and lived with him for about a year, right after I graduated high school. I couldn't stand my stepdad and the people he associated with. The girls he brought home that were only a few years older than I.
Despite the molestation etc, I can say that I love sex. I'm married now and have told this story many times (though not in such detail). During the times I had to go through lots of changes (being taken away from home, going to foster home, living with the other family, going back to mom), I adopted a "go with the flow" attitude. I didn't have any extreme emotional issues (at least...none that have arisen), I did extremely average in school, I was able to tell anyone who wanted to know about my past
Because of that, people have always told me that I'm strong. I've brought up the topic with my mom once or twice. What I learned was that my dad had a tendency to sleepwalk/sleeptalk/etc. I learned from my then boyfriend, now husband that people who plead guilty normally get lighter sentences. While I had a last shred of hope that my father did something for my sake, perhaps pleaded guilty because I didn't want to testify, it disappeared after that.
My friend tells me that I should forgive my father...the truth is, I'm past that. He's been out of my life so long that I just don't care. If he dies, I'm sure I would be unaffected. I wont attend his funeral. Oddly enough, I've spoken to him a few times on the phone. His brother, the family that I stayed with after foster care, would have a three way conversation but he tells me that he wont be doing so anymore because my father has gone a bit crazy. He could potentially get out for good behavior...but he doesn't behave well. His sentence is extended for being shit.
I will never have a father figure and the only one I had was a kind janitor that worked at my school. I can't wait to have my own family. I love like no tomorrow, but I know where my faults lay.
But I've always wondered...shouldn't I have had some kind of emotional trauma because of this? Is it because it's not as large of an event as those people who are scarred by it?
BTW, my mom and I get along very well now. I miss her when she's out of the country and I miss her home cooking etc etc. She initially hated the idea of me getting married, told me to look at her former marriages. I went against her wishes and she ended up becoming rather chummy with my husband.
TL;DR...god, I'm not even sure I would read all that crap. I was molested, had to go through bunch of ups and downs, father figure was weird, result is a happy and married me that loves sex and can't wait to have a family.
First of all, thanks for all the replies with your HONEST opinions; I really appreciate that.
I did go through counseling a few months after it happened, I forgot to mention that. During those sessions, I don't ever remember speaking about it. I told the therapist how my day was, drew some pictures and that was pretty much it.
I don't have trouble at all speaking about this with friends. Or anyone for that matter.
I'll try to get back to everyone with replies when I get back from class (this is as
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