Okay, so my older brother was 16 when he raped me. But this started way before that. When I was around 9 or 10, he used to sexually abuse me.
He would touch my private parts and kiss me.
I remember experiencing physical pleasure sometimes, even though I was just a child and didn't really understand what was happening. He also used to finger me, and that hurt like hell.
When I was 14, everyone went to attend a wedding, so we were home alone. He said, "Let's play a game," and I agreed because I didn't think anything of it.
Then he started grinding against me. He was being so forceful, and I kept telling him no, again and again, but he wouldn't listen.
I got a boner, for fuck's sake, and he took it as a sign that I wanted it. But I DIDN'T. I didn't want any of it.
He started jerking me off, and it felt uncomfortable but physically pleasurable at the same time.
Then came the penetration. It was genuinely traumatizing, and I don't even know how to explain what I felt.
I was scared, I didn't want it to happen, and yet my body still reacted physically. I remember feeling so horrible afterward that I didn't want to exist anymore.
After that, he got into a good university and moved to the US. Even before the rape, he had repeatedly kissed and touched me against my will when we were alone, but I was too scared to tell anyone.
He hasn't contacted me since.
My parents think we just had a fight, and they have no idea what actually happened between us. I don't think they'll ever know.
The thing I struggle with the most is the shame. I experienced physical pleasure and had an orgasm, and I keep wondering what that says about me. Sometimes I still have fantasies related to what happened, and afterward, I feel disgusting.
I hate that I can't seem to make sense of my own reactions.
I don't really have anyone I feel comfortable talking to about this, and I've kept it to myself for years. I just want to hear from people who might understand. Please be kind. I'm genuinely trying to make sense of what happened to me.
Sometimes, what hurts the most is how he just stopped contacting me completely after moving to the US. I know what he did to me was wrong, and I know I shouldn't have to miss anything about that experience, but I still find myself wondering why his absence hurts sometimes.
God, I feel so disgusting even admitting this, but there were times when I liked his touch. I was so young when it started, and I didn't understand any of it. Sometimes I think I miss the attention, or the feeling of being wanted by someone who was such a big part of my life, and then I hate myself for even thinking that way.
How can I feel hurt that he stopped contacting me when he's also the person who hurt me so badly?
I don't understand my own feelings anymore.