on his shoulder but that all changed the moment he started to touch me in places that he really shouldn’t have. I was young, na�ve, too small to understand the complexity of the situation he was placing us both in, also I didn’t know any different. How could I? I was a young child, and this was my father.
It got worse as I approached my teens. Mum hadn’t noticed. She was busy with her night shifts working in the nursing home to spot that there was anything wrong. But there clearly was. When I started to soil
my underwear and wetting the bed. Dad had told her it was nothing to worry about and it was one of those phases, but I guess my body knew different. It got more intense when he decided that touching and groping him wasn’t satisfying him anymore and