If I Talk

My father would sometimes watch me have a bath. Until we moved to the new house and I never had a bath again. 

I’m not sure if he always did it. He did bathe me, and touch me, at least before about 6 or 7, before we went on the big holiday. He would come in to the bathroom to go to the toilet or wash his hands and stay. Sit on the toilet watching, sometimes masturbating, sometimes kneeling at the bath. I just waited for him to go so I could get out but sometimes he helped me, sometimes my mother came in to get me out or yelled at me to get out. 

I really hated having baths. Still do. Having a shower didn’t really make it that different but it felt different. Maybe because I wasn’t so out in the open. . But I couldn’t always have a shower. 

I hated the whole process 

And going to C’a house always felt awkward because we weren’t allowed to have showers there because we were supposedly too young. I hated getting undressed in front of her mother, her father never came in. 

In the new house there was a lock on the door which annoying my mother