I was sexually abused as a child and this summer, I decided to work at a daycare/day camp. I learned very quickly that my experiences being abused made me overthink every single thing I did around kids. 

I questioned literally everything. Tickling kids, dancing with kids, poking them in the ribs when they were being stubborn, helping them get dressed… I was so scared the whole time that one slip up was going to traumatize them. 

One instance in particular was super traumatic for me. A kid asked me to help him get his swim trunks on. I wasn’t expecting them to be quite so tight, and I could feel my hands against his rear as I was trying to pull them up. I almost had a panic attack and told him to just loosen the string. 

I counted these experiences on several online spaces, and I guess the way I overthought them really put people off. I was called a molester, which honestly just traumatized me further. 

I know that tickling, dancing, helping them get dressed, helping them stay clean and comfortable, etc is all normal, caring stuff. However, these were all things that my abusers did to me under the guise of caring for me. How can I be expected to care for children when everything I know from adults I’m supposed to trust came with the strings of sexual abuse? 

I hate that this made me not able to have a family. I hate that I can barely even look at a kid without worrying. I hate that my excessive panic makes me look suspicious. Why was I forced to live this reality? So some sick fuck could have pleasure for a few seconds? So someone could feel powerful over me?

I hate my life so much.