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I wasn't sexually abused, but both parents walked in on me masturbating in the shower at different times, mulitple times, when i was around six or seven. an older cousin walked in on me when i was naked, i think i was 11. my brother's friend secretly watched me as i watched porn, i was 8. my dad confronted me about watching porn. actually it wasn't porn, just people kissing, but to him, it was the same. i had a panic attack and cried, hyperventilated, wailed, and tried to rip my phone out of his hands but I couldn't. my parents, i don't remember which one, put a vibrator in my room when i was young, before i hit puberty, and i started to masturbate with it a lot. then one day my mom sat me on her lap and asked me where i use the vibrator, she touched my shoulders, back, stomach, and asked, "do you use it here?" I said no. she put her hands on my inner thighs and said "how about here?" I lied and said no again, feeling ashamed and like my secret had been discovered. my parents went to therapy one year and came back acting really hyper sexual in front of me and my brother. they would make out, my mom would give my dad her bra and he would put it on his head and smelled it. when we went camping one day my dad asked my mom to give him her underwear and she said she had been wearing it for days, he said "even better" and started to sniff it right in front of me, i was around ten. they would make out in the car as me and my brother had no choice but to watch. i masturbated publicly in the pool using the water jets before i even knew what i was doing and my mom didn't stop me and tell me i should stop or that what i was doing was wrong. my brothers friend asked me if I wanted to get naked with him when i was less than 10 and he was around 13, i said no. that was that. i came home from school really sweaty one day and took off my clothes except from my underwear and laid down on the couch, my dad wasn't supposed to be home for hours but he walked in on me. my brother asked me to kiss him on the lips so he could see what it felt like, I didn't, it was probably a joke. i found naked pictures of girls on my fathers phone one day. i wore leggings one day when we were teenagers and my brother touched my butt. my mom walked in on me as i was about to masturbate. i was fourteen. i was under the bed sheets and i had a towel underneath me in case i squirted, the lights were off, and she came in to say goodnight, but she somehow discovered the towel underneath me and asked me what i was doing in a playful, creepy tone that told me she already knew. i was humiliated and stuttered a lie about how my legs were still wet from the shower. i was so scared after that that i couldn’t masturbate that night. i also remember taking showers with my brother when i was extremely young, probably less than five, he must have been seven or eight, and he peed and i think a little bit splashed on me and i made myself throw up, and my mom said that i did it on purpose, so my mom had been watching us shower together. i also have a weird, vague memory of being in the shower with a man and all i can see are his legs and his penis and the green shower walls. i don’t know if i just imagined this, or if i dreamed it, but it’s one of my earliest memories, i must have been less than four. it’s such a weird memory, it literally only lasts for two seconds. it’s just me in the shower with a man and looking at his penis, and then the memory ends. maybe my dad was showering with me when i was toddler and he thought it would be okay. i don’t know if it happened or not, but i remember thinking about this memory before there was any way i could have even known what a penis looked like. my family was quite dysfunctional and i began to masturbate whenever i was angry as a coping mechanism, however because of this my mind and body are messed up now, and now i automatically feel unbearably aroused when i'm angry, and i often have to excuse myself so i can orgasm. i haven't been able to kiss anybody, talk to boys, or date anyone, it gives me extreme anxiety. i am not afraid of men, however i am so insecure about myself around them, even though i actually think i'm fairly attractive. there's a few other things i can't bring myself to list on here do to shame. i was never touched, raped, or assaulted, but i still struggle with sexual things and i don't know how to date people.

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  • I suggest you consider therapy if you can. What you went through was absolutely a form of sexual abuse. I'm so sorry this happened... I hope one day you can find peace.

  • This is so wrong, I am sorry you have to go through this.

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When I was a kid, I'd beg my parents to let me take all my plushies with me to vacation trips. I thought they'd get lonely without me so I didn't want to leave a single one behind. I slept with all of them too. This memory comes to me whenever I see plushies.

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When I was a kid, I'd often get so absorbed in a book that I wouldn't notice what was happening in the room or if someone was talking. Nowadays I can't read three lines without losing focus because my thoughts keep interrupting me. I wonder if I've ruined my attention span by browsing random shit on the internet too much or why this has happened.

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  • My problem is that I just can't find anything I want to read. There is a very particular kind of book I want to read and I don't know how to find them, so I always end up turning back to books and series I've already read several times.

  • Exactly what happened to me. I used to read a book a day, then the internet happened and I stopped reading for some years. Then, when I started again, I couldn't read even half a page without checking my phone or doing something else. It's true that you can relearn it, though. I'm not completely there, but I am getting better at it. What I did was that I allowed myself to check my phone, but only after reading a whole page; after a while, I made it two pages, then a chapter. That's where I am now. Always a chapter a time. And whenever I feel the distraction coming in between, I have the firm rule to at least read the paragraph. Sometimes the story gets so exciting then that I forget about being distracted. Sometimes not. Just don't be angry at yourself when you can't make it, or you'll give up

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I wish I could afford to live somewhere with a fireplace. I love them so much. I love the warmth, I love the smell, I love staring into the fire and dozing off on the couch because I feel that relaxed. I miss it.

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  • Same. One of the reasons why I love camping is cuz of that

  • theyre great as long as theyre not your only source of heat in winter

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I just realized my wife looks just like my childhood crush. Crysta from Ferngully. I guess I have a type.

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One time when I was younger (maybe 10 or 11 years old) my grandma on my mom's side was reading the paper and said someone with the same name as my uncle on my dad's side was in the section for arrest warrants. She didn't know it was actually him and didn't mean to upset me. She was just reading the paper, saw a familiar name, and said it before thinking. I wasn't mad at her for telling me. But it did upset me for awhile that my uncle got arrested and I didn't understand why he'd do that (check fraud). It's not a terribly wrong crime, not murder or anything, but still a shock to my innocent mind. He was my favorite uncle. I still have the stuffed Dalmatian he gave me when I was 4. I just didn't want to believe he could do something so bad. A few months ago, I was reading the warrants page from my hometown, thinking I'd find someone from high school on there since one of my old classmates shared it, and that same uncle was on there. This time for drugs. That I understand even less. He had two small children in the house, what if they saw him high? Or got in his stash? He's also getting divorced because he apparently beat up his wife. Since his ex wife has drug and mental health issues too, my grandma on my dad's side is taking care of his sons. I still love him since he's family, but he needs some serious help. 10 year old me would be devastated right now.

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  • I felt the same way when I found out my dad did drugs and drank for basically my whole life even though he pretended to be clean for a very long time. I'm so sorry to hear you're going through that :(

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Back when I was not even old enough to go to school, it hadn't occurred to me that different skintones exist. If someone's skin was beige or brown, I assumed that it was just a tan. So when I saw a black person for the first time, I thought "Wow. I didn't know people could get that tan, cool!" The dumbness of me... lol For reference I live in a country where most people are white.

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  • Kids think a lot of weird shit. That's not dumb, that's normal and quite funny!

  • That's more naivety and innocence rather than dumbness. I have a cousin who thought white people were only on tv. Imagine their surprise when they came to the states at five years old.

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At what point does someone count as white to the average white person? Like my kids are half Euro/half Philippine raised in the US. Obviously Asians won't accept anyone who isn't over 95%. Like, would my kids count? Would my grandkids? Growing up my best friend was 75% white 25% native American and he always counted as white.

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  • Well, if ye can't prove you're an aryan since the 1800s, you're out. Lol, just kidding: I don't even care and most other "white" people wouldn't care either.

  • Why do you seek acceptance for your kids from white people? Why can’t they just be mixed. They aren’t only white, they aren’t only asian. They’re both so why seek sole acceptance from one group. Even if they’re white passing

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As a child/teenager, I used to trace and copy other people's artwork and then tell people it's my own. I did this because I loved drawing, but I sucked at it and failed to understand that this isn't a talent you're just born with, but that you have to practise to get there. I was ashamed of my own drawings, I felt they were too bad for someone who likes doing it. I feel bad for that now, because I lied to people, especially to my parents who always were so proud of me.

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  • I did similar things. I drew my own stuff sometimes, but I always 'referenced' (copied) other people's art too. I usually credited them, but it still wasn't okay, and I removed most of those drawings from my online galleries, but I still feel guilty sometimes. The best we can do is learn from our past and move on.

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When I was eleven years old, my mom used to force me to hang out with this boy because she was friends with his mother. I never really liked him. he was kind of cocky and spoiled. we were the same age but he was bigger and stronger than me. so one day we were in my house and my mom and his mom were out getting coffee or something like that. when we went up the stairs, he got to the top before me and he spread his arms so that I couldn't get past him. I was still on the steps and he was blocking the way for me. he said something like "I got here first now you have to do something for me." he always did that. according to him, every time he 'beat me' at something I had to do something for him. I think any other day I would have submitted and done whatever he said just so that he'd drop the subject. But I was really frustrated that day and I said "I'm not doing anything for you, move out of the way." But he wouldn't move. I don't even remember what it was he wanted me to do. It was probably something really dumb. He said that I had to. Those were 'the rules.' And he was jabbing his finger in my chest. I don't really know what happened next. I think I yelled at him. Or I said something that really pissed him off. But then he and shoved me and I fell down the stairs. I don't really remember the actual fall. It was just like, he shoved me, then everything went black, then I was crying my eyes out while my mom held me because I was so sure that my arm was broken. But turns out it wasn’t actually broken, it just hurt a lot. My mom still made me hang out with him after that, which sucked because I was terrified of him from then on. I kind of pushed that all to the back of my mind once I stopped hanging out with him, but I realize now, six years later, that my dreams of falling off of cliffs and buildings are due to my falling down the stairs. Also, ever since he pushed me down the stairs, I have done this thing where I purposefully jump off the last five or six steps every time I’m coming down the stairs. I don’t know why. I think I just do it to show myself that I can and that it isn’t scary. I don’t know if that makes sense. The whole thing was dumb and I wish I could completely forget it.

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