Harvey Dent is a character from the Batman comics (and movies) who was a good guy fighting corruption until he was victimized and scarred beyond recognition... but only on half his body, half his face, &  half his soul.  Unable to deal with the events of his life, he fractures and becomes half good, half evil.  

Although the parallels aren't perfect, that is exactly how I feel about myself.

I come from a place where CSA is so common that I only knew two families where it didn't happen.  2.  Out of at least 25.  I am sure that in the greater circle of acquaintances that number is higher, but of the 25 families I knew.... 8% were free from the defilement of CSA.

In my family, I had 2 uncles who weren't victims.  I had a mother, a father, 6 biological aunts, and 2 aunts by marriage who were all abused.  Everyone knew about it.  Nobody talked about it.  Out of 9 cousins, 7 cousins were victimized.  And the two who weren't, lived in a house of physical and mental abuse where the father drank all day and night.  So for me, this story is as much about my family as it is about me.

My mother severed all ties with her father because of how he victimized her.  I seldom saw anyone in my mother's family.  My father's family was the kind of family that got together every Sunday at my grandparent's house.  We are one very large and reasonably close family.  As I was the oldest of the grandchildren, I saw more and was treated differently than the rest of the grandkids.  Furthermore, I have an exceptionally high IQ and can recall events from as young as 18 months old that I have independently corroborated, and have faint memories of events from as young as 10 months old.  Finally, I began speaking in complete sentences by 10 months old.  I figured out that when my parents spelled "p-a-r-k", we were going to the park...at 13 months.  I remember everything from the time period I am about to describe.

****Major Trigger Warning***

My mother retreated into drugs.  My father worked away from home alot.  And even when he was home, he too retreated from his abuse with alcohol.  Fortunately, the family was more than happy to take care of their oldest nephew while my mom and dad went to get drunk or high.  This left me in the hands of a predator aunt who would force me to perform cunnilingus on her, who would fellate me, then pinch my scrotum to make it go soft so she could get me erect again.  This happened from the time I was an infant till I was 3 years old.  It only stopped when she had twin sons of her own and she caught us acting out.  She didn't discipline us for it...she just acted like it was normal to have a 3 year old fellating a 1 year old.  I can remember that I wanted to go to her house because I knew that I would get a special pleasure that night.

When my dad lost his job, we (mom, dad, & me) moved in with my dad's oldest brother.  During various times, my uncle would penetrate my rectum with his fingers.  And when I would cry, he would tell me that if I were a girl, then I wouldn't be in pain.  (I had dreams, pleasant dreams, until age 5 about being a girl.)  This continued until my mom and my dad went to jail.  When that happened, I went to live with my paternal grandmother.  

I had an aunt who was 13 when that happened.  (My parents were 20 at this point.)  I woke up one morning in her bed, crying for my mom.  It was then that I was told that my mom and dad would be gone for a while, but my aunt was gonna be my aunt.  She and her cousin took care of me for 3 months until my mom's charges were dropped.  During that time, the two 13 year old girls would have me sleep in their beds with them and at night would do very similar thing to what my other aunt had done, minus the pinching.  

When my mom got me back, the first night we were in bed together at my grandfather's house, I tried to go down on her and perform cunnilingus.  She freaked out, spanked me, and made me sleep on the floor.  Within a week, she had no recollection of it.  She would not recall it until much later when she had to face the repurcussions of her own CSA, which will come up later.

Fast forward 3 years.  I am 6.  My dad's youngest brother is in the army.  He is 19.  His wife was 15.  She was beautiful.  I fell in love with her the first time I met her.  It was blatant and obvious to everyone around me.  My uncle teased me about it, but it wasn't that big of a deal.  Then, my sister and I went to stay with them for the holidays.  During the 6 hour car ride, the subject of my crush comes up in conversation.  The aunt remarked that she might have to show me the ropes while the uncle was away on base.  He laughed and said that I wouldn't know what to do with it if I got it.  I proudly told them that I knew what I was doing.  The uncle laughed and asked me if I could even get it hard yet.  Again, proudly, defiantly, I told him that I could.  Then the aunt said that if I was already that far along, she had some books for me to look at.  When we finally made it to their home, my sister was asleep and they put her to bed.  They then showed me their treasure trove of pornographic magazines.  I became instantly aroused.  They let me peruse them for a bit then put me to bed.

Fast forward 3 years.  I am now 9.  Same aunt and same uncle come home for the holidays, bringing their best friends from the army to meet our family.  The wife of this couple is also beautiful.  Again, it is obvious to everyone.  Again, I am the subject of much joking and teasing.  Again I protest defiantly.  This time, it was the woman's husband who told me I wouldn't know what to do with it.  I defiantly offered a bet of $10 that I did.  He and I shook on it.  I took his wife by the hand, led her into the bedroom where they had been sleeping, laid her down on the bed.  She asked me what next.  I climbed on top of her, wrapped her still clothed legs around me, and begun dry humping her.  She freaked out and ran from the room.  I walked out.  Proud.  I collected my $10... and high fives from all of the men in the room...except her husband.

Fast forward another 3 years.  I am now twelve.  Same aunt and uncle.  Now they are out of the military and living with my parents who have managed to become mostly clean of drugs.  I still have the same infatuation with the aunt.  We share a bathroom, and so I have access to her panties which I use to masturbate at least 3 times a day.  Eventually, they figured it out.  While they and my parents were all getting really drunk on weekend night.  It makes my uncle laugh... and asks me if I can even bust a nut yet.  I defiantly state that I can.  Then he asks me if I have pubes yet.  I didn't know what that meant, but I lied and said that yes I did.  

At that point, he and my dad held me down and stripped me so they could see.  Their dog came over to see what was going on and began sniffing and licking my crotch.  At this point I became very erect.  So they all held me down for a few minutes.

This is when my mother finally remembered her own abuse.  Witnessing the abuse of her own son allowed her to remember what had been done to her.

***Triggers over***

I hate these people.  And they are my family.  I love them.  I hate what they did to me.  And I loved them for it at the time.  

I wish that were the whole of it.  But there is more I wouldn't want to put in writing.  I know the stories of all of my aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents.  I know all of the incest.  I know all of the pain.  

I am Harvey Dent.  On one side of my face: a smile of joy.  The other: a toothache.
I am not defined by what is done to me. I am defined by the choices I make.

My story: http://www.malesurvivor.org/board/ubbthreads.php?ubb=showflat&Number=452346#Post452346

Odds are that I am typing on my phone. Please excuse punctuation and spelling. Editing is a serious pain in the neck.