Comments on
Wait, Was That… Sexual Grooming!?!


Last week, I queried my Facebook friends, most of whom are narcissistic abuse survivors, on the subject of grooming. I asked them if they felt they had been “groomed” by the narcissist(s) in their life to accept unwanted and perhaps even inappropriate physical contact.

18 thoughts on “Wait, Was That… Sexual Grooming!?!

  • July 24, 2017 at 7:53 am

    Great article Lenora. I could definitely relate.

    Reply
    • July 24, 2017 at 1:37 pm

      I could definitely relate to all of this. I had creepy uncles and cousins but my mother was the worst. I was never allowed to shut my bedroom door, ever!

      Reply
  • July 24, 2017 at 4:15 pm

    I am so sorry you had to go through that, but am very glad that you are now writing about it instead of stuffing it by binge eating, drinking, drugs etc. People need to hear about this subject. I could relate to the tickling until it got painful. I used to wet my pants and then had to deal with that humiliation on top of the forcible tickling. Thanks for your well-written blogs.

    Reply
  • July 25, 2017 at 12:24 pm

    Totally. Relate. It all started with my maternal grandmother who tried to force kiss me on the mouth, and not a quick peck at that, from the first memories I have until I was old enough to forcibly shove her off of me and threaten her with police. This was such an ongoing issue until she died, wanting to put her mouth on me, that she had someone take a picture of her forcibly kissing me and hung it on the wall. When she died, I took that pic down and burned it. Disgusting old bag. My stepfather’s father used to inspect my thighs when I was 11 and 12 to see if I was developing into the kind of woman that men want. The list of examples is endless. Never any exact molestation by the letter of the law, just nonstop touching. I ended up physically assaulting two men in college for the “holding you down and tickling until you are screaming” thing. Both were boyfriends of my other roommates and they all dumped me because I hit their boyfriend. Did they not question why *their* boyfriend was forcing themselves on me? Not that it matters, but I’m only 4’11 and weighed about 94lbs in college so it was not just a matter of my childhood boundaries that I was standing up for, but a real fear of grown men lauding their physical strength over me. What is wrong with people? Who on earth behaves in these ways? I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t lived it myself. That said, ear licking your adult child is still a new one for me! Gross.

    Reply
  • July 25, 2017 at 4:42 pm

    Sad, kind of weird and def disgusting, even if no sex, very wrong. grandma bothered her grand daughter, EW. I have high boundaries not normal, have no idea why. But there was no “wrongful touching” in my family. I think people were hung up on morals and ethics and I was too. I have people who won’t take no for an answer around me. Very bad boundaries.

    Reply
  • July 27, 2017 at 2:37 am

    Couldnt imagine doing some of these things to my child or anyone else for that matter. I knew families like this growing up and it ALWAYS made me uncomfortable to be in the same room when it was happening.

    I generally walked away from friends families who were like this. Would spend time with the friend but avoided their family.

    They tried to portray things like they were ‘just playing’ or ‘relax it was an accident’ but you knew damn well they were just a strange one.

    Also had a close friend whose older brother used to ‘play’ with me like this. Literally one step away from molestation. Would have to wrestle him off of me. Told my mother and she laid into him hardcore one day in our front yard. He of course isolated me later on and attempted to use shame techniques. Didnt work! I can only imagine what he was doing to my poor friend behind closed doors.

    Reply
  • July 30, 2017 at 10:05 pm

    I just happened upon this article while browsing through Pinterest.
    When I started reading, my mouth DROPPED, my heart rate instantly skyrocketed, and I could feel adrenaline surge through my body; this is MY STORY!!! This is MY EXPERIENCE! I REALLY needed to fibd this article…it came at the perfect time during the healing process after a lifetime of sadistic, evil, narcissistic abuse by my mother, “the preacher’s wife”. Just….thank you. I can’t even explain how much these words have provided an instant relief (ironically enough) that I am not alone with this! I’m not “crazy”!
    Recently, I’ve been telling my story bit by bit on social media, Facebook to be exact. With the exception of maybe three friends, I feel like people think I’m just ‘off my rocker’, or going through some sort of ‘phase’ (I AM actually in truth; it’s called HEALING), and the vast majority just don’t understand, have never heard of narcissistic abuse of NPD for that matter, and frankly aren’t interested in even learning about it.

    You helped me to feel validated. You sharing your story has reassured me that it’s not “just all in my head”…I don’t think I could ever express to you just how much that means right now and how desperately I needed SOME sort of validation from someone…anyone…another human being, at this point in time.

    I wish you all the healing, love, acceptance, and peace of mind in the world. Keep sharing…you’re making such a big difference in doing so. Brightest blessings to you. 🙂

    Reply
  • March 9, 2018 at 11:05 am

    This is not “grooming lite”. This is not “covert incest”.
    It is actual sexual abuse, actual incest.
    That there was no penetration does not mean at all that it wasn’t sexual abuse. Just that it wasn’t rape.
    (And one could even argue that the ear licking was an act of penetration.)

    Reply
  • May 27, 2018 at 7:32 pm

    Could you tell me the name of the Facebook page?
    thanks sherry

    Reply
    • May 27, 2018 at 7:35 pm

      I queried my friends on my Facebook timeline. Is that what you were asking? 🙂

      ~ L

      Reply
  • April 1, 2019 at 10:49 pm

    Absolutely brilliant!! It has a name now! Thank you for calling it out.

    Reply
  • June 1, 2019 at 11:43 am

    A lot of this resonated with me. The first time a teenaged boy came to visit my dad completely freaked out. When he had left I was yelled at for an extended period of time. The next day was worse as my dad called the school and demanded the phone number of his parents. The school didn’t give this information to him but called his parents and said he had called etc here is the number. When his mother called my Dad went off on one telling her to keep her son away from me. All this because he had come by to see me after dropping his mother at the supermarket. Ridiculous and over the top yes. Such was daily life in that house. Groan

    Reply
    • June 1, 2019 at 12:19 pm

      I’m so sorry! How did your father behave at your wedding, assuming you’ve married since that horrible teenage experience!

      Reply
      • June 2, 2019 at 11:40 am

        He was on his best behaviour that day. Was generally when other people around . No I wasn’t particularly comfortable being walked down the aisle by him.

        A couple of weeks before the wedding we were visiting relatives in another city. My fiancee and I went for a walk and went for an ice cream. When we got back everyone was acting really weird. I didn’t find out until years later my Dad had convinced his cousin to drive him around so he could spy on us! Got a lot more where this came from. The time that was the icing on the cake is where I went over to a friend’s house for the afternoon and my Dad showed up around 5 in a police car. Somehow he had convinced the police that I had run away from home. I would honestly like to know what he said to the police to get them to do that!

        Reply
  • July 19, 2019 at 12:29 pm

    One day I came home from school to our little farm house, my dad had been tearing down the brick wall between his and mom´s bedroom and me and my sister´s bedroom. There was two bedrooms with suddently just half a wall left between them, and the bricks lying there while the evening sun lit up the rooms.

    When I 35 years later confronted dad with it, he claimed he did break down the wall “because the chimney was not safe”. But the chimney was intact and stood for many years after that, in full use. My mom later hang up a white blanket as some kind of wall. She always supported him.

    Reply
    • July 19, 2019 at 4:07 pm

      Interesting how he had a replying, glibly, for such a long-ago event. Seems like he was waiting 35 years for that awkward question to come up. So did he watch you dress and undress for years while you could witness your parents’ copulation!?! I’m so sorry! Traumatic!

      Reply
      • July 20, 2019 at 7:42 pm

        Trigger warning here. Yes, weird answere. Typical him just saying something, one never knows wether it is true or not. Like a child. He never watched or touched. He hated and hates sexual abuse, was molested himself as a child, being covert incested by parents, beat up by sect pastor uncle, and also working as a grown up from early age as in child labour. If he was a healthy person he would have been a nice and loving and a fun and caring dad. He has good sides, a lot. Though he has a side that is very mean and that he seems to be unaware of and is in denial of suffering trauma of his childhood experiences. He claims he is not troubled, but defends his parents and own acts. He covert incested me and he groomed. I actually did not understand that it can be named grooming until I read this article of yours. I thought it was just child molesters that groomed. Wait. I suffered psychological incest. I, ME, WAS actually molested. In the invisible. And I, ME was groomed. In the 46 years I have lived so far, I have developed from believing our family was normal, having stockholdm syndrom, and into today suffering from CPTSD not being able to earn my own money (yet, hopefully) and being painfully aware what was and is wrong. Developing knowledge and words to describe it. Have distanced from family and the old network around them because it is to me unhealthy. Not normal. VERY restricted contact with dad, and a bit more contact with mother – but of course, she is his loyal wife so I have to be careful what thoughts I share with her. Gladly I am in dialogue with them and have chosen to share how I feel about everything in the past, how the child I was experienced them as parents, and how it caused trouble for me and mad me a person that they have problems relating to. tehy used to blame me for becoming like I am. Hehe. Well, that made me give up on them. But life forced me to connect to them again and it was torture. What good came out of it we had to confront eachother and ended up starting talking in more constructive ways. Now they understand a bit more of me, at least mom. They start to get that it is a family pattern, probably through generations, and that we all have become sick from it. We can laugh about it, and we challenge eachother. When I meet them I remember how I am not going to become. TAnd the only way I can share my feelings and experience with them is because I have distanced myself from them with first five years no contact and now restricted. I can never let them close to ME, the real me again. I know if I start trying dress normally well and smiling and laughing not worrying that they will react and “bring me down to earth” again. They cannot handle me being different from them because they feel so small and miserable themselves kind of. Mom cannot help becoming grumphy if I put on a nice ironed dress. Dad hits down on me if I express too much joy. it is their flashbacks. And now it is mine too. They react to memories of molesting and cult group extacy. I react to being punished for being normal. It is difficult living with parents that struggles so much with trauma and is in denial. I always had to try to be grown up, and I still have to act like a parent or caretaker, or they suffer greatly. They just need help and support but none of us are well enough to relate to eachother. So we have slowly come to an agreement of that distance can be a good thing. We all wish eachother the best and acknowledge our own lacks and faults. We try to support as best as we can, hehe and what shows to be best is not support at all just let be, try to relax. All of us. I start being able to enjoy their good sides. But, always have to on guard with them and the best for my health is being far away. It is good to have them in the world after all, but if they die before me I must admit that I am longe since finsished mourning them. I need being free and a child, so badly. But that chance is gone. Childhood is gone. Now I think therapy with emotional education, so that I can try again get out in the world being social and maybe handling it. I aim at taking periods of “childhood freedom” travelling and such, and being granted state pension gives me bottomline financial security and support systems and thereby safety enough to have a chance to recover. It is hope for me now. 🙂 And that bedroom brick wall is the perfect illustration on my experience of incest, mentally and emotionally. He just took a mental sledge hammer and teared down that invisible wall of privacy and from then crossed that line whenever it suited him. And then he went ahead and did it with that bedroom wall too.

        This became a long piece – I cannot help it bringing several angles when telling about my family past. After reading many articles from this blog, I am sure everyone understands. I need to keep things colorful, with shades, to balance the emotions. And after all I love the parents that I am telling about, they have done good compared to where they came from, they have been punished enough in their childhoods. I know not all abusers have an excuse, in this case I believe so. I am moving on alone without them, keeping in touch with goal learning how to build brick walls.

        🙂

        Reply
      • July 28, 2019 at 4:32 am

        I comment on my comment, feel slightly embarrased, but writing sharing brought forward new thought.

        My mother was also part of breaking that brick wall down. Only I did not notice. Dad was loud and active. Mom subtle and passive, almost invisible when I think back. But they both owed me in many ways. Not all of me, but here, there and everywhere, and with such a degree of inconsistency that I still become too confused when trying to see it clearly.

        Reply
 

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