When I was seven, I went to my first sleepover over at my friend’s house. That night we were all sleeping in the same room, but at one point my friend’s father came, picked me up, and put me in his bed with him. Since then I’ve just felt unclean, if that makes sense. This may be blunt, but he didn’t r*** me, so part of me feels that I’m holding onto an uncomfortable moment for too long. But over the years I just think about it more and more and don’t know what to feel. It’s just stuck there in my head.

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