When I was 13, I had spent the night at my best friend's house, and her dad took me home the next day. On the drive, while causally talking, he leaned over and touched me inappropriately several times. I didn't know what to do so I just leaned as far as I could against the door. I told my parents and they wouldn't let me spend the night at her house again for a very long time. (They finally did later, with strict warnings about not being around the dad.)
I never told my friend. About a year ago, she and I reconnected after many years of not being in touch. She went on and on about how much she had loved her dad, what an awesome dad he was, and how much she missed him since he died. Of course I was thinking "you didn't know he was a pervert did you" but kept my mouth shut. It would have served no purpose!
I wasn't traumatized by the event at all. It was just weird and creepy to have my friend's dad do that, but he actually didn't do much, so it had no effect on me. So there was never any need to bring it up to her. Although, I think my parents should have done something. But knowledge about pedophilia wasn't as out in the open back then.
This was one of those cases in which confrontation would have been the worst possible thing to do. My friend has only good memories of her dad, and I didn't want to ruin that for her. And I never saw any indication that he ever did any more than that to anyone else.
(She is totally mainstream so there's zero chance she would ever read this forum.)
Even if we do decide to confront the abuser, it's important to remember that they might have changed. My husband's dad abandoned his family when the children were very young. Decades later, my husband's brother did some research and found out the dad had died some years back. He went to visit the grave and saw an engraving about what a great dad this man was. Apparently he had started a new family and they really loved him. Too bad he never had the courage to look up the first set of kids he had tossed aside.
Sometimes people just move on and start fresh, and do better the next time, without ever making amends to those they hurt. It takes courage to make amends. Many lack that courage. But, when confronted, they might welcome the opportunity to face that which they were unable to face on their own.
I never told my friend. About a year ago, she and I reconnected after many years of not being in touch. She went on and on about how much she had loved her dad, what an awesome dad he was, and how much she missed him since he died. Of course I was thinking "you didn't know he was a pervert did you" but kept my mouth shut. It would have served no purpose!
I wasn't traumatized by the event at all. It was just weird and creepy to have my friend's dad do that, but he actually didn't do much, so it had no effect on me. So there was never any need to bring it up to her. Although, I think my parents should have done something. But knowledge about pedophilia wasn't as out in the open back then.
This was one of those cases in which confrontation would have been the worst possible thing to do. My friend has only good memories of her dad, and I didn't want to ruin that for her. And I never saw any indication that he ever did any more than that to anyone else.
(She is totally mainstream so there's zero chance she would ever read this forum.)
Even if we do decide to confront the abuser, it's important to remember that they might have changed. My husband's dad abandoned his family when the children were very young. Decades later, my husband's brother did some research and found out the dad had died some years back. He went to visit the grave and saw an engraving about what a great dad this man was. Apparently he had started a new family and they really loved him. Too bad he never had the courage to look up the first set of kids he had tossed aside.
Sometimes people just move on and start fresh, and do better the next time, without ever making amends to those they hurt. It takes courage to make amends. Many lack that courage. But, when confronted, they might welcome the opportunity to face that which they were unable to face on their own.