I’m male, 18 now. Yea. Woah. A male getting raped. What? Anyway. I’m not 100% sure it was rape or anything really. All I have to go on are faded memories and then a few vivid ones. So.. here goes..
I was five and my older half sister was 8, she lived with us. And at some point I guess we engaged in sexual acts. Or maybe she engaged. Not sure. All I can remember is that feeling.. of utter coldness and being scared, not knowing what to do or where to turn, the feeling of the bed sheets, taught in my small white knuckles. The way everything felt strange. To this day. I’m not sure what happened. Was I raped? Molested? Or just harmless childhood tomfoolery? Well. I know for damn sure it wasn’t harmless.
I have so many issues and mental problems today that I can barely keep fighting them all sometimes. And I have thoughts. About committing rape. That scare me. I don’t wanan be some. Monster. I don’t wanna watch my daughter grow up. Scars on her arms. And tears in her eyes because of something I did. And the thought of reading a suicide note…. Destroys me… I was in therapy for all of this. But… They left.. they were supposed to call back months ago. “Wait for us to call you” When I was around 10 with my 8 year old brother.. we played around and did things.. which at the time. Everything was consensual. We took turns. He asked. I asked. Everything was just.. idk… playing around? But.. recently I’ve been worried of him trying to molest our younger cousins…. did… did I do that to him? Am I the monster I’ve always been hiding from? I’m so focused on hiding from it that I’ve put up this wall. Blocking every thought, emotion, or feeling in, tucking away for fear that if I let myself think for even a second, he’ll come out. I’m so afraid to look inside myself.. it’s my biggest fear.. a daily struggle of being so god damned afraid of looking into my own soul. That.. I don’t know who I am… Am I bi? Pan? Straight? I’ve dated a guy and I was a blushing fumbling mess the whole time.. but I didn’t NOT like it… And there’s times I feel like I’m a girl. On the inside. And I’m comfy with that.. I just don’t know… Who am I? What happened? Is it my fault? These are the questions that have been pounding their steady dull beat inside my head for as long as I can remember….. Sorry for going so off topic…. Anyway.. I guess.. That’s my story.
— Andrew, age 18