What seemingly minor decision or moment in your past ended up having a massive impact on your entire life trajectory?
07.06.2025 11:36
With the accusation heavy in the air, I came clean about my own issues after being reassured I wouldn't be punished for it. I truly did think everything was my fault.
Everyone knows how long-distance relationships work. THEY DON'T
I was expected to give my brothers the attention they needed, not my father. I even had to put a system in place for them to earn time with me because it because too exhausting to manage.
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(Arabic or English) Finland: 09 2525 0113
To convince me it was okay to have sex with me in high school, my father revealed to me that his mother had slept with him (and I'm guessing more than once). This was the same woman he told me chose to stay with her abusive husband (towards my dad and his siblings) over taking care of her children - my dad basically ran away the moment he legally could. She quite literally said OUT LOUD she had chosen her husband over my dad.
Oh yes, everything was crashing into place. I had finally gotten away from my abuser and truly seen him for who he was. And it was emotionally destructive.
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Into my teens, I was a difficult one. Not for violence or emotional outbursts - I attempted suicide 3 times, only one of which was taken seriously enough to go to the hospital. And in the hospital, I was talked out of getting the care I really needed because "money". I quickly learned my needs would take a backseat to our finances.
My story is not for the faint of heart: most people in my position would not have survived like I did and come out a person who still cares about people in the end. There are many times I tried to end it, and my story would have been a lot more tragic if it had stopped at any point earlier.
My bank account was monitored and I would be chastised if I dare spend money on myself.
A major moment came in a fight when my father almost got physical. He could see me getting angry, and he blocked my exit and told me to take a swing. I very calmly (and lividly) told him to move so I could leave. I did. Quickly. Loudly. My father was willing to inflict serious violence on me and I did not want that. I drove to my WORK of all places to seek sanctuary. It was there that one of my coworkers, who had taken a huge liking (romantically and sexually) to me stepped up and took care of me. Even gave me a hoodie because I had come in soaked in a T-Shirt from the pouring rain.
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Edit: photo added of me and my cat when we were driving during the great move. The little things made me happy.
Can you share some of your favorite jokes that are not well-known but always make people laugh?
When I would return from an appointment, he would ask what was said, and then quickly call the doctor a "quack doctor", dismissing any tests or imaging done. I wasn't allowed to not be perfect. I had to be a perfect, normal person. And in my father's opinion, I was VERY BAD AT THAT. He once said to my face that "[I am] a monument of [his] failed parenting". And then he tried to say that he wasn't calling me a "failure". He... Literally said it.
But the grandmother I once viewed as a safe person is now a monster to me. It doesn't matter how she's treated me - her actions have hurt me worse than ANYTHING ELSE COULD HAVE.
Before I realized just how awful things were, I couldn't see my father in a negative light - I'm going to tell the story from this point of view until that seemingly insignificant moment comes - a moment that revealed the abuser he actually was.
Can anyone show a photo with a penis in their anus?
Someone else was there to take his place. My second cousin decided I was perfect for her sexual fantasies and lured me away while we were celebrating my birthday a bit early. I told her that my mom secretly got me a present and I was so excited, because we were usually too poor to afford presents. My mom also told me not to tell anyone because she wasn't supposed to be spending money. All these years later, I do look back with fondness that she tried to give me a good memory, even if it was viciously stolen away.
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I cried for hours - mourning the death of the father I thought I had. I knew I had to embrace reality and cut the person I believed fought so hard for me to get out of an abusive home.
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I don't plan to go to the police: they'll probably dismiss my case as another bullshit story. I don't even care about ruining my father's life. I just… don't want to be a part of it. At all. Unfortunately, all I can hope is that people take my warnings seriously about leaving small girls with him, because I fucking HATE saying I told you so.
For safety, I will not reveal my parents' identities. I don't intend to ruin my father's life. He is doing that fine on his own. My mother is improving and deserves a chance to show she can actually take responsibility. We'll see.
I cried like never before. I thought I was being given to people who would never love me. (And I wonder if they really did to this day)
Philippines: 1553, 0917 899 USAP (8727), 0966 351 4518 or 0908 639 2672
His work side was an entirely different man. I knew personally - I worked on his team for a while before they were forced to downsize. At work, he was a logical, problem-solving, kind person.
The court battle was long, awful, and ended in vain. My mother lied on the stand (which didn't help my hatred), telling the jury she would never leave a child with the defendant and never had. It was because of her testimony the jury concluded "not guilty" - all because she would be charged with child neglect, as I later realized. After all - she KNEW this man LEGALLY couldn't be around children. I couldn't forgive this selfishness. I was denied justice and SAFETY (the man lived within a fucking MILE of me after he got out of prison: moved right next door to my local high school) because she was afraid to face the consequences of her actions.
I was frequently blamed for things I didn't do, told I was being disrespectful when I was genuinely trying my best to be polite, and CONSTANTLY put down in front of my brothers. The two I grew up with would know: they were often what I got compared to, and it was no fair comparison.
UK: 112, 999, 116 123 or 0800 689 5652
They knew what would happen - after all, I had just exposed his criminal record to everyone, and the man who claimed he could never rape someone had raped a child. And he was capable of a lot more.
Have you ever been physically attacked by a demon?
I was lucky, in a sense, I had gone through several bad relationships, and I had experience that this man didn't; I advised him to try to communicate with his boyfriend. Why? They hadn't spoken in two months. My sweet now-fiance truly wanted to give this guy the benefit of the doubt, but after months of ignored texts and calls, even as a new friend, I had to say something. It just wasn't right.
My mother did a pretty good job to make me hate my father as a kid. She reminded me a lot of how much he didn't want me and that she was the only one who truly loved me.
And that became the case time and time again. I inherited bills from when I was 16 that put me in debt for YEARS. And when I was financing my own therapy, I couldn't afford much - and it piled up. 100% of the times I quit going to therapy was because of money. And I have been in and out of therapy since 14 or 15.
Why do I want to suck cock tonight?
Father learned of my birth when one of the guards called his name - " Hey Andrew! You're a father! Congratulations!" He said nothing - he didn't know how to feel.
At home, he was a tyrant. I suspect my father has either BPD or NPD - possibly even both. It was his way or no way. And his way was ALWAYS right.
But that doesn't make things magically better. My father was very determined to run my life from across the country. He would call to check in... And my partner would listen to him abuse me over the phone, hugging me after I would hang up. I never saw him get so mad at something like he would when he couldn't defend me.
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Norway: 116 123 or 22 40 00 40
Remember how my abuser lived within a mile of me? If my grades dropped, I would be threatened with being taken out of my school going to the school he lived next to. Because “it was closer”.
Now you might be saying "uhhhh, wait, if he was actively sleeping with you from 16-24, how did you not figure out he was raping you?" Because my father groomed me. The rape was "healing" me from my past sexual trauma. After all, it wasn't right that I didn't want to have sex with people, according to my dad. It started with molestation - he said I needed to get used to others touching me. I had to trust him - he was my father. It progressed pretty quickly, eventually ending with penetration. I did consent: but I was a minor. And a groomed one at that. My father 100% took advantage of a pre-groomed child, further groomed me, and then told me it was for my own good.
Yes, my mother made the decision that it was safe to leave her young child (who was a daughter at this time) with a pedophile. And not just any pedophile: the pedophile who had literally raped her at 12 years old. There was no way she didn't know this guy was dangerous - she fucking picked him up from prison and HID him. After all, she knew he wasn't legally allowed to be around kids. And remember that: it becomes important later.
I've been waiting for the right question to tell my life story. Not because it is glamorous, but because it shows how cruel the world truly is, and how merciless life can be.
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First of all, I had come from a VERY abusive household. Not only emotionally, but I was also sexually abused CONSTANTLY after the age of like 6, while living with my mother.
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The very first time he tried something, he was very careful. He once drugged my sister, and he would now use that same drug on me. Except, I believe it had an unintended effect: I completely blacked out. My sister described paralysis from the drug, but she was also much larger than me. Remember, I am SMALL. Any doctor can tell you that medicine (or poison) is indiscriminate: a small body simply can't take as much as a larger body can.
Everything changed. Yes. EVERYTHING.
Chile: *4141
(Finnish) Finland: 09 2525 0111
The scene isn't one that's pleasant to remember. And without context, it's more distressing: not realizing I had been drugged and raped. And this was the scene my PTSD showed me.
By my birthday, maybe 6 months or so after I met my mother's boyfriend (I can't recall exactly what age, but it was still in the single digits, more than likely around 7), he vanished. I don't know exactly what happened but I believe he was found to be violating his parole, and was likely sent back to prison to finish his sentence. I only think this because several years later in court, I faced him while he was in chains.
It wasn't until years later, when my younger brother came out about sexual abuse from a DIFFERENT cousin, that I had the courage to tell my mother about not only her boyfriend, but the cousin I was forced to see on the regular and was taking advantage of that.
NONE OF THIS EXCUSES HIS ACTIONS
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And my dad would never listen to my partner. They hated eachother. My partner hates my father because of the abuse - my father hated my partner because, AND I'M DIRECTLY QUOTING, "he stood up to me for you". Isn't that a red flag just sailing in the wind?
This guy slashed my tire the night before I was supposed to leave the state. It's on police record that I know it's him, but I couldn't get sufficient evidence. (No one saw him do it).
I used to see my father as the man who fought endlessly to give me a good - or at least a SAFE life, but that mask was slowly being lifted. I was accused of faking illness, being lazy, and even having Munchausen's. This contradicted the tests the doctors did that concluded stress had caused physical damage to my body. But with my father, evidence did not matter. Only his opinion.
Sweden: 90101
My problems began before I was born. My mother was 15 years old and pregnant... And running away with my 18-19 year old father in stolen cars, far across America. These were two very immature teenagers, and in my opinion, they remained that way in many ways. Emotionally, specifically.
(Local) Israel: 1201
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I was encouraged to use inappropriate language, and I would literally be yelled at for saying things like "gosh dang" or "darn it!" Still a minor. This happened basically since I started living with him as a kid.
As a side note, my mother would actively threaten to kill us (like, seriously, get in the car, I'm going to drive you somewhere to die) and herself when she couldn't get her way. This especially happened when she was pregnant and JUST after pregnancy, which happened a lot while I was growing up. I spent my younger years corralling my siblings to a safe place and possibly locking us away for safety. On several occasions, I physically pulled my siblings out of the room to not further escalate whatever situation was going on there. I told my mother I would die for her if necessary. She didn't say the same.
Then it happened. PTSD is a nasty illness, and flashbacks come when they want to, not when it's convenient for you.
As of right now, I have been diagnosed with C-PTSD, Chronic depression, debilitating anxiety, and a myriad of diseases that basically say I SUCK at digesting food and get nauseous VERY easily. Though I have not been diagnosed, I suspect (no, I'm actually very certain) that I also have ADHD and autism (AuDHD) - which I'm actually trying to get diagnosed ASAP, but that's not easy in my position.
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Controversially, my brother, next in line with my dad's kid's and only 6 years younger, grew up without chores, having to work, or getting a job in any capacity. He got his first job and car (new btw) at 19.
In the basement of my great-grandparents house, I was raped by my own cousin. I prefer not to go into specific details, but she forced me to have oral sex with her. This is... Also, unfortunately important for the story later on.
If you or someone you know is experiencing suicide ideation, please take it very seriously. You are loved, and we want you to take care of yourself. Please, call the suicide hotline at
I woke up naked in my father's bed, where he was cleaning my genitals. Like - straight up, with a wet rag. He claimed I passed out and peed on the couch. I wish he'd been smart enough to at least pour water on the cushion, because it wasn't wet, and it was very dirty (meaning it hadn't been washed). I felt light-headed and numb. I didn't understand what happened then, but now?
It was also around this time in my life that I began unintentionally making life-long friends - ones that would give me valuable insight and helped more than I can express.
After court, it was solidified I would stay with my father, and he began turning me against her. My own perceptions didn't help her case, either.
I wasn't allowed to exist outside my room: I was discouraged from talking and making noise, and when I would appear, it would bring comments like "oh, you're coming out of your dungeon to join us?", which just made me want to go back to my "dungeon". (That's what we actually called my room. I can't make this up)
My past isn't pretty - in fact !
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All I wanted was some relief. I was sick, and I wanted medicine. But the medicine he gave me was not for me: it was for him.
Even worse, I was consistently groomed by both strangers and family. I even gave out inappropriate pictures of myself because I thought that it was completely okay. I had literally been taught that my body was made for the pleasure of other people by then. It wasn't uncommon for me to sleep with men much older than me before I was 18.
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And then we just talked. We talked and talked and talked until you'd think there was nothing left to talk about, and then we'd make up more things to talk about. We grew a deep respect and connection for one another over thousands of miles.
It started when I was very young. Remember how the ex-wife's daughter accused my father of molesting her? I never got to hear her story. A part of me thinks it was purposely kept from me so my father could abuse me, because he did exactly what he did to her to me, except he blindfolded me. And remember the forced oral sex with my cousin? She just taught me the basics of the vagina. It was my father who taught me how to give a proper blowjob. All before I was ever in high school. I believe this started not long after the divorce, perhaps only a few months after he lost his first victim.
Let's get on to answering the question, and I'll explain the significance of it as I tell my story.
And thanks for reading. Good luck out there.
I can't remember everything that happened before I was 16. All I know is I was being molested nearly the whole time I lived with my father, perhaps only given maybe 2 years of relief when I first moved in.
but... my dad didn't want me. My mother said he walked away, said he wasn't ready to be a father. And while I may understand why as an adult, it doesn't make it not hurt nonetheless.
I was told a lot of the "dark secrets" of the family, and subsequently told to keep them. These are secrets that could put people in jail.
Germany: 030-44 01 06 07
Things changed a lot with my father. NOT for the better.
My father would take me into the basement, force me to take my top off (I had large breasts, and he claimed it was to make sure my clothes didn't get dirty), and do "teeth cleanings" with me. What he really did was put a blaring light in front of me and blindfold me (just to make sure I couldn't see) so he could make me give him blowjobs. I learned a little too well before I ever consensually gave one. And when it became more common, I couldn't help but notice the similarity of blowjobs and my "teeth cleanings".
South Korea: 1577–0199
I got these from Wiki, so if any are wrong, please correct me.
If you're looking for a sign to keep fighting, this is it.
It was difficult when I first arrived. I was worried I really did make a mistake. Especially because I was promised a job upon arrival, but then told differently once I was here. But that was quickly changed as I began living with my partner. I had lived with a previous partner, but it was an abusive relationship. I almost didn't understand the peace I felt being in my own home with the person I loved and trusted the most.
New Zealand: 0800 543 354 or 0800 72 66 66
I had two hours of chores per day, on top of working already. I had to manage the kitchen, the cats, and the main rooms EVERY DAY. In a house of 5 people and 3 cats, it gets DIRTY. While going to full time HIGH SCHOOL and working full-time (two part-time jobs).
I would only learn what he did to my sister a few months ago, during my realization of his abuse. I called her to confirm exactly what happened.
This is one of the main reasons I will not go to the police for my other assaults. It would be meaningless...
I was afraid of my father, yes. He was tall (around 5' 10", and I was/am a small person, born very prematurely to a small parent (who is shorter than me)) and loud. My father had a set of lungs he couldn't control. Even when he thought he was being level and reasonable, his voice would BOOM through the house. When someone got in trouble, EVERYONE knew. I don't think he meant to yell as much as he did, but at the same time, he frequently told me he would yell when he believed someone wasn't listening to him. That must have been 24/7 with his family
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I left before it got worse, fleeing the state. I moved in with my partner across the nation - a solid 36 hour drive I made with all my belongings in a brand new car, that I could afford at the time with my job.
I was told by my father that my mother snitched on him and got him arrested - I wonder if it was to protect herself from the legal consequences, but I also wonder if the police considered her to be "kidnapped", since she was a minor. But it any case, my mother was returned to her parents.
Once my youngest brother was born (I was 17), I became his second parent. I was the one teaching him his ABCs and taking him outside. Until everything changed.
There was so much manipulation going on behind closed doors that it took me YEARS to be okay even being in the same house as my father. I mean - my mother used to dress me up for visitation in days he wasn't supposed to pick me up. I would wait at the table for hours before breaking down and giving up. This made it very difficult if he was ever late. I never knew if he was actually going to come.
But look what I have now: I have truth and peace. I have people who truly love me. I know the people who believe me are the ones who matter, and I simply cut out those who don't. I find no reason to fight anymore: the truth will come out eventually, no matter what. 2 months ago, my partner proposed to me, and now we're engaged. I've never been more secure and happy.
This didn't help the image of my mom in my later years, where my father truly made me believe she was evil, and not just a human making mistakes because she was never taught how to fucking do shit - I relate a little too well. But I hated her blatantly for almost a decade because of her mistake - both leaving me with a pedophile AND keeping everything quiet.
My first car wasn't allowed to be whole: my father forced me to put together my first car to earn the right to drive. My first project, at 16-17, was a clutch job on a '96 Pontiac Fiero. If you don't know right away, this is basically one of the hardest clutch jobs EVER, because you have to drop the ENTIRE ENGINE. Good mechanics can fuck this up, and I was expected to be able to do everything perfectly. (I didn't, but I got the thing running and moving. ONCE)
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I never would have seen it at the time: I was actually avoiding romance, because I didn't believe I could throw myself fully into a relationship just yet. We just started talking, and it wasn't long before he began telling me about his boyfriend.
It's hard to deny when every friend or romantic interest that has ever met my dad and witnessed our home life for more than an hour very quickly concluded he was abusive. My best friend was absolutely terrified of my father. And I mean EVERY ONE OF THEM. My last ex wanted to PHYSICALLY FIST FIGHT HIM. I think he was the closest to seeing what was behind closed doors.
And it was through his love that I slowly learned how horrific my life truly was.
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And it's all because I posted on Twitter.
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I was lucky my dad paid for a new tire - perhaps finally understanding just how much danger I was actually in. This wasn't a fling gone wrong - it was going to be worse.
I was never allowed to explain my actions: I was simply the bad child ALL THE TIME. Most of the things that got me in trouble were genuine accidents, misunderstandings, or literally me just taking the blame.
Out of fear, I had to move. Not only was my father too much, but I was now actively in danger. My father told me moving was the worst mistake I could make. It was ironically the best decision I've ever made.
My stress was unreal: at 15, I was forced to get a job to pay my dad rent. At 16, I had two part-time jobs. At 17, a full-time seasonal job the moment I graduated, and then full-time after that. While I watched friends at school leave campus and have lunch with their friends with their cars - I was taking overtime to meet demands and give my father money.
I grew used to his empty, false promises pretty early, but I was too young to realize it. I became upset with myself when my father couldn't deliver because I always thought something was just wrong with me. And he made it clear he thought that too: he literally called me crazy, psychotic, etc. And even worse, he would compare me to my mother, who was DEFINITELY psycho.
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Mother brought me to his release - we were going to go home as a complete family FINALLY! BUT
Pulling back closer to the present, I had fallen in love. And I knew it, because I'd been in many relationships, and I had NEVER felt so strongly before. This man taught me that love could be unconditional and KIND. I learned I could be safe with him, when few others would grant me that privilege.
This happened a few times. I can't recall how many, as my memory is quite hazy with time periods(to protect myself, they say... that's what long-term abuse does).
It went far past finances- for my brothers, there were no rules they couldn't break. Homework wasn't enforced, they had no bedtime, they could be as LOUD as they wanted, screaming at their video games well into the morning. No chores, no regulation... I wasn't even allowed to LAUGH in my own room. It was a RULE. And it was enforced HEAVILY. My father took my younger brother to New York for FUN, but didn't have time to take me to a local bar for my 21st birthday (for a full two years I was living with him - I left at 23), something he’d promised every year leading up to it.
and if anything, it makes it so much harder to simply HATE him, but that's just my empathy being as sensitive as it always is.
Taiwan: 1925
India:
I was scared to tell anyone because she threatened to expose my birthday secret to everyone. The very gift I received became the device of my torture. And sadly, as an adult, I can look back and realize a $10 Avril Lavigne CD wasn't worth it... But $10 was at least two meals back then, and every penny counted.
I didn't realize just how abusive he was. I wish and wonder what it would be like if an ADULT had seen that abuse. Could they have seen the signs? I could list endless red flags that point towards the sheer severity of the abuse:
Because my father's now-ex-wife had a daughter who accused him (my father for clarity) of touching her. REMEMBER THIS. This accusation was suppressed and this girl was SILENCED.
Well... Turns out that wasn't quite right either. It was actually his ex-wife that fought for me, as she told me herself. My dad couldn't afford an attorney, are you kidding? Her parents definitely foot the bill to get custody of me.
I don't want to go into a lot of detail with this relationship - I was not cheating, but my partner and I WERE in a poly relationship. I took pity on this guy and decided to be close with him, against my better judgment. This coworker would later become manipulative and abusive - to the point he was moved to another store and banned from coming in mine. To the point his friends begged me not to go anywhere alone with him.
A fresh follower messaged me that their boyfriend lived in Washington, and that I could be friends with him. Hopeful, I decided to hear this person out.
And this is far from the craziest thing that happened, but certainly the best. What a butterfly effect - my entire life was flipped upsidedown (and RIGHTFULLY SO) from here on out.
This person, over 4 years later, is now my fiance.
When I reached grade school, my father suddenly reappeared with a wife - and he fought like hell to get custody of me. A few back and forths later, I landed with my dad by second grade. I still remember the day I was told. My mother picked me up from school and solemnly told me, in class, that they had lost. I would be moved.
But we did. We loved each other so much that over 4 years later, we now live together.
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I was encouraged to drink alcohol as a minor. I became a bit dependent on it for a while, and my dad was happy to buy the beer.
So, after everything, I look back on my life realizing I never had a fighting chance. I didn't have parents: I had abusers. It shattered me. I didn't want to be that person that can't talk about their past without making everyone super fucking uncomfortable. That's unfortunately what I am now. I can't relate when people look back fondly on their parents and childhood. In fact- when I try, I'm usually told my story is awful and horrific, not funny or normal.
When custody was transferred to my father, it took several years... But the truth would come out. As I was too afraid to say anything out loud, I wrote down what happened (only being 12-13?) (and this document was later entered into court evidence, if I recall). But why did I finally say something?
But it always gets better.
HUGE trigger warning for those who need it (mentions of sexual assault, suicide attempts/ideation, general abuse and seriously? is this just a tragic backstory? it's just sad)
Columbia: 106
I never understood my father's favoritism until much later. And yeah - I get I'm the first child and parent's don't always know what they're doing, but you CAN'T tell me there's some bias playing into the chore schedule and finances. Not to mention my dad pays for everything my brother needs medically, even though he has a job. I'm willing to grant my brother is a bit more physically ill than I am - as his problems are cardiovascular and mine are digestive - but I was ALWAYS expected to pay for everything myself.
But I mentioned court earlier, didn't I? We'll get there. It's a long story.
Poland: 116 123 or 800 70 2222
Fresh out of a breakup from an abusive relationship, I chose to move to Washington State with my father. I had never left Utah - or really the general area that I had lived - my whole life. The family had occasional trips outside the state, but they were few and far apart. I would be leaving behind everything I knew... Everyone I knew.
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I remembered my father sexually abusing me. Had my brain really blocked it out for so long? Of course! It became the normal in my life, especially since my dad started sleeping with me at 16. This continued until I moved out of his house at 24 - I have text evidence of him trying to get me to dirty talk to him. These memories are, unfortunately, not false memory syndrome (as my father's ex-wife is claiming). I truly wish it was, but I have physical evidence. Physical evidence of lingerie he bought me and had me wear for him, corsets just for him to see. They are in my closet, hidden until the day they must come out as evidence.
I was to keep a journal of everything I had to do every day. At school, my teachers had to sign this journal every class period, and my dad would punish me if I didn't receive a signature for any reason.
I'll introduce myself real quick - I'm a 25 year old trans male who was born and raised around Layton/Salt Lake City, Utah. I am the eldest of 8 total: my father gave me three brothers and my mother gave me 3 brothers and a sister - however one of these brothers was given up for adoption upon his birth. I've never asked why, as I don't think it's appropriate, but I think my mother, who was only 15 when she had me, was not ready for another child. But the subsequent babies were kept, and became the siblings I now know. I mention I am trans - I was born of the female sex, but I identify as male. I don't need to go into why, however, my hormones and biology aren't the usual of a cisgender female - I have many male aspects and have chosen my identity thoughtfully.
It's not hard to guess what happens. I was not raped, but molested nonetheless. Perhaps I was saved from worse... But not for long.
So, already lonely and needing company, I made a post on Twitter (now X) asking if any of my followers lived in Washington, and if any wanted to become irl friends. I truly didn't expect any answers... But I got one.
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I was forced to exercise on top of working and doing school. My father would force me to run a mile every morning before school. If I didn't, I was fat-shamed. (The MOST I've ever weighed is like 145lbs)
Her response was sub-par at best. In my shame, I begged her not to tell her husband I was "impure" (lol, Mormons) and disgusting because I was afraid he wouldn't love me anymore. Obviously my mother knew better... But she agreed to keep my secret. In fact - she told me I should stay quiet about all of it, in case the family should hate that I come out about it and RUIN the family.
Granted, he later said this wasn't the right thing to do, but it is how I grew up.
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