A suppressed memory of mine suddenly resurfaced that I would like to get off my chest. It’s still branded in my brain like it only happened a couple of days ago. One day I was just lying in bed, about to get to sleep to get up for school tomorrow when I hear the distinctive sound of my moms ferocious stomping (had to always make her presence known) coming towards my room. She comes in and just stands over me with that quintessential facetious devoid narc smile on her face. I look at her when all of a sudden she pulls away her bathrobe and flashes me. She then says, still with that sickly “smile” on her face “don’t tell anyone you saw your moms boobs.” I just laid there, mortified, thinking “What. The. Fuck.” Worst part about it all is that this wasn’t even an isolated instance of sexual abuse from her.
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