Trigger Warning: My cousin ruined my childhood

I’m a 28-year-old woman, and I’ve been carrying this burden for years. It’s painful to share, but I feel like I need to let it out. I grew up in a small town with my parents, my elder brother, and eventually my cousin, who came to stay with us so he could focus on his studies.

My aunt believed that living with us would help him excel academically. He wasn’t allowed to go out much and was expected to study at home, which created an environment where we were often alone together. During a specific window every day—when my mom went for her evening walk, my dad was at work, and my brother was playing outside—he began M0lesting me.

It started with unwanted touches, kissing, and biting. Over time, it escalated. He tried to force me into acts I didn’t understand at the time. One day, he tried making me give him oral, but I managed to run away. He once left evidence on a bedsheet, which my mom noticed. She didn’t fully realize what was happening but sensed something was wrong. She asked him to start sleeping in the hall.

Not long after, my brother was hospitalized, and my parents spent nights at the hospital. This gave my cousin more opportunities to harm me. He hit me, spanked me, and tried to hurt me further. On the third day, my mom came home earlier than expected because my brother was being discharged.

That day, she took me shopping, and in a dressing room, the truth came out. Her worst nightmare became reality. When we returned home, my mom called the juvenile police immediately. She stood firm, even though my dad tried to convince her to drop the charges. He was more concerned about not ruining family relationships and keeping the peace.

He was deeply invested in maintaining ties with extended family, sometimes more than with us. It showed in his lack of remorse toward what had happened to me. My brother didn’t learn the full story until he was in college.

I think my dad’s attitude and this whole experience shaped how I approach relationships today. I find myself feeling deeply attached to men who make me feel safe. It’s like I’m constantly searching for the sense of security and protection I never had when I needed it most. I thought I had moved on, but in high school, during a biology class, I learned about f0rced sex and a$sault.

That lesson broke me all over again. I started feeling worthless, ashamed, and deeply broken. Therapy became a lifeline, and even now, the scars linger. Even today, I jump if someone touches me unexpectedly. The trauma doesn’t fully go away; it hides, waiting to resurface.

My mom did everything she could to protect me, but my dad’s choices left their own kind of wound. To anyone reading this who has been through something similar, I want you to know: it’s not your fault. You are not what happened to you. You deserve love, safety, and healing.

I was in class 6 when he started and was caught during starting of class 8