Death of Innocence

One of the big things that has been bugging me lately is the power that a paedophile has over a child. My first preditor was very good at grooming. He knew what he was doing and won me over very well. For most of my life I have felt closer to him than my own parents. This angers me. To this day my connection to him is very strong and I will have a dream with him or one of his family members at least once a week. He is never too far from my mind.
I have also been working with my psychiatrist about my dislike of being touched, especially if that person is being nice to me at the same time. It can send me into a fit of tears, and has as far back as I can remember. My psych says it could be because when I was young and being groomed, my abuser "John" would have said nice things to me, and then abuse me. The connection between it all is deeply ingrained in me. (he started abusing me when I was 4 years old) He knew that I needed to be made to feel special and he made the most of a vulnerable child. 40 years on and I am still unable to accept kind and loving touch without fearing what is coming next.
My friends have learnt to give me a hug and then pull away before they say anything nice,  or as a friend did yesterday, she started to call me silly insults and names as she went in for a hug. I had to laugh it was so sweet. But deep down it is sad that I have so much trouble accepting love.
When I got my wrist tattoo the other day I also got a very small white tear tattooed just below my right eye. I wanted a very small reminder of the Death of innocence.