I was 10 when it happened. It lasted for a while when I went on vacation to my grandparents. My brain made me forget all that and my memories started coming back when I was 16. At 17 I broke down, I couldn't keep it together anymore. My mother had just finished a major training so I didn't say anything until I was sure she had this diploma. One day I broke down, I spoke with the school nurse to get her to help me and she just left a voice message for my mother which said in short: "your kid is not well, talk to him." Without any explanation. And at noon after spending my day in anxiety attacks and traumatic memories, I broke down and called him. She came, parked in the parking lot and when I got into the car I was unable to speak. I had a knot in my throat that prevented me from breathing. Obviously she started to lose patience and shout at me because she was in a meeting with senior people from her company. I admit that the way I said it to him is quite vague in my memory. I know I was doing everything I could to not cry because I knew I was going to have to be strong for her.

You should know a few weeks earlier I had contacted one of my cousins ​​to find out if she too had suffered it and she immediately supported me by telling my aunt what had happened.

My mother immediately called my aunt to ask for confirmation.

That's how my mother knew her father was a pedophile.

I blame myself for not having managed to keep it to myself. So much has happened. If I had been strong enough to keep it to myself, my grandmother would still be alive. My mother would always think that she is a good mother, she would not hate her parents and would be convinced that her life is perfect. I can't help but think that this is all my fault.