The information contained in this article is for mature audiences. You have to figure out for yourself what that note of caution means. I was sexually abused by my father at age 8. I was a child. The topic and experience of sex was forced onto me against my will when I was in the 3rd grade. I didn’t have a choice as to whether or not I wanted to learn and discuss this foreign topic. My intention through this writing is to heal myself and to help others. These are the Nitty Gritty details of what sexual abuse looks and feels like. I’m not an expert. This is my experience.
I was 8 years old. This time it was Saturday. Again, the sun was shining outside. I must have had on my nightgown, because I don’t remember having to be undressed. My parents had an old black and white television set in their bedroom, because we had gotten a larger TV for the family room. My dad was lying down leaning on his left side on his side of the bed and had me on my back cradling my head in his arm. My dad was a full size man at 6’2″. I was 1/3 his height and 1/5 of his weight. He was masturbating me on my clitoris with a finger on his right hand. Again, I didn’t know what these body parts were called. The television was on with Saturday morning cartoons. As we were watching TV, he was telling me to press my tiny little 8 year old feet into his big size 12 foot as soon as I felt this “thing.” I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. I just wanted this horrible experience to end. I just wanted to watch cartoons. I wanted to escape. God help me. I pressed my feet into his foot hoping he would stop immediately and leave me alone. I wanted to die.