This is something I’m posting somewhat reluctantly, because I’m posting on vague notions and “clues” gathered over the course of decades.
And let me state up front, before I continue, that I was never the victim of sexual abuse from a family member, and, to the best of my knowledge, neither were either of my younger sisters.
But … I remember my father being completely outraged at the idea that I had seen my sister (the older of the two) naked when we were teenagers. And I recall an incident when my youngest sister (eleven years younger than me), three years old at the time, saw my father naked (he’d just stepped out of the shower), pointed at his penis and asking, “what’s that?” and my dad completely blowing up at the question (Okay, that was too tame. The fact is, she pointed at his dick and said “what’s that” and he slapped her in outrage.)
Complete overreaction, IMO. But I started to wonder about my dad’s overreactions on this topic.
I had two aunts (still have one; the other passed last year - spinal cancer), both my dad’s younger sisters. And both of them were morbidly obese. At some point I learned about sexually abused girls deliberately gaining weight in order to make themselves less attractive to their abusers, and wondered if that’s what my aunts had done. My aunts were both still teenagers when I was born, and all of my earliest memories of them tell me that they were always obese.
Mind you, this isn’t theories I’m putting together all at once, this is stuff I’ve thought about for a few decades.
So recently, on Facebook, I’ve made contact with a couple of my great-aunts. These great-aunts are the daughters of my grandfather’s brothers.
So, some backstory/history. My great-grandfather (I would call him a “Godly, devoutly religious man”, based on what I’ve heard of him, but I was 4 years old when he died and I have only the vaguest memories of him) migrated from West Virginia to Washington, very early in the 20th Century. He settled here in Washington, in a small agricultural town, and raised his four sons, who also grew up there. There is a road here named for my family.
All of the houses on that road were built by my family. The house right next to my grandparents was built by on of my grandfather’s brothers.
But, in my entire life, even to this day, I have never met that particular great-uncle. Well, yeah, he’s long-dead by now, but he wasn’t dead when I was a child. He lived right next door to my grandparents.
I didn’t even know this until I got talking to one of my great-aunts on Facebook, the daughter of the great-uncle in question. I mentioned that I didn’t recall ever meeting her father, despite the fact that I’d met all of his other brothers.
And I’m left with the feeling that this particular uncle was somebody I’d been “protected” from.