"When I was six years old, I was 'molested' by a neighbor. I don't feel quite right calling it that, because he didn't really 'molest me, the way they talk about it on TV and in school.
It all started 'innocently' enough. He used to sit me on his lap and read to me, and he'd massage my shoulders, and run his fingers through my hair. The way he'd hold me made me feel warm and secure. He'd tell me how pretty I was, and how much he wished he had a daughter like me
He'd often have both his son and me on his lap to read to us.
He'd be running his one hand through my hair and his other hand would be rubbing his son's tummy. One day he asked me if it was OK with me if he rubbed my tummy like he did his son's. I had always been taught not to let anyone touch me where my body was covered with clothes, but I knew how much his son liked it, and I was curious, so I said it was OK.
He would routinely let his son romp around the house in just his underwear, and sometimes fully naked, which I found odd, because at my house we had a strict 'cover up' mandate
Eventually he asked me to join in, and because I liked his back/tummy/chest rubs so much, I would also remove my shirt when I was over.
I never felt violated by this, firstly because he'd asked me if it were alright, and secondly because I'd liked it. I really enjoyed the closeness and the feel of his fingers on my skin. I especially liked how he played with my tiny little nipples, though I didn't understand at the time why that
he respected it, and didn't ask again.
Our physical contact progressed from back/tummy/chest rubs to having him kiss my body and neck, to him rubbing my butt and thighs, to him masturbating me. I was also physical with his son, touching, lying together, mutual masturbation, and the like. Eventually things progressed as far as intercourse
My current boyfriend, who is a psychology major at the local university, now tells me that I should hate that neighbor and his son for 'what they did to me, but I can't bring myself to do that. I enjoyed the intimacy, the touching, the emotional bonding that occurred. I was not 'molested', I was a willing and active participant in the whole process, and I am not scarred in any way by what happened.
I am a happy, fulfilled, self-confident, self-respecting professional woman.
I work as a legal assistant. I am very comfortable with my body and with my sexuality, which I am convinced I would not be had it not been for that neighbor, since I would not have learned about my body and my emotions at home. Sex was something that was just plain not discussed in my home. My parents never even tried to have
'the talk' with me!
right up until his death?
I enjoyed and participated fully in all that happened, and I can simply not bring myself to think of those things in any other way but with fondness. What happened back then did not turn me into some kind of psycho- or socio-path. I did not become a child molester because of what happened to me, as a matter of fact, I still find myself attracted to older men. I dare say that my early sexual experience with my neighbor and his son did more good for me than any kind of harm, contrary to what the law and the media would have people