Very difficult subject. I was sexually abused by my step-father from the age of 8. When I eventually plucked up the courage to tell my mother, she spoke to him and then gave me the choice of whether he should leave or not, but that he had promised it would never happen again.
I was about 10 when I told my mum - she was disabled and it wasn't until I was much older that I realised that she should never have asked me to make the choice. My DF had died when I was just 3 and my step-father moved in with us when I was about 6. I craved a father figure and said he could stay.
Things did settle down, but as a teen, if I went for a hug, he would touch my breasts and try to kiss me with tongues. I have had therapy many times over the years - mainly because I blamed myself. It took a long time for me to realise that, even when a teenager, I was still the innocent one. However, I do remember telling my DM that he was touching and kissing me inappropriately and her reply was that I shouldn't be walking around the house in a nightshirt!
I suppose, what I would say is that it is very easy to have black and white views as an outsider, but not so clear cut when involved. About a year or so before he died, I asked my stepfather why he had done those things to me. His reply was that a) we didn't have full-on sex and b) it was because we got too close. I am just grateful that the counselling I had allows me to be confident that I had no responsibility in us becoming "too close".
I still carry guilt to this day that I, in some way, am partly responsible for what happened. I continued to have a relationship with my DM and my step-dad until each died. When I confessed to a friend what had happened in my past, she made me feel so guilty about still having a relationship, that I didn't tell anyone else until after my step-dad died. It is hard to explain, but he was, to all intents and purposes my DF - the only one I had known and was in my life from when I was 6 until he died, when I was 38. Also, my DM had multiple sclerosis and, over the years, became more and more disabled. My dad did care for her very well right up until her death, when he was distraught. We were united in our grief but, after a while, his behaviour really upset me - he started going out to the pub for company, which I could understand (he would only have soft drinks, so it wasn't a drink problem) but then he became friendly with a couple of barmaids, who were roughly the same age as me. He would cuddle and kiss them and buy them gifts for their birthdays etc and it used to leave me feeling cold, but I had to tell myself they were adults and they could protect themselves. When he was taken into hospital, I would go to visit him every day, despite having three young children at the time, yet he would complain that nobody visited him if the barmaids hadn't called or popped in. I found it so hurtful and it left me confused.
It is something I will carry with me for the rest of my life. On the one hand, I think if I had been an adult and it had been my husband, I would categorically disown him and have nothing to do with him. However, because of what happened to me, I know things aren't as black and white as they would seem.