My gosh, it's like I wrote what you said myself. When I first considered talking to my T about the CSA I experienced, I was so incredibly ashamed and scared that he would never look at me the same, that he would think I was disgusting and dirty, and that he would never want to hug me or even touch my hand or anything. I also was scared that he would disinfect the chair I sat in after I left. It took me months before I could even tell him that I was abused, and still haven't explicitly told him what all actually happened. It's still too much for me to even type or write out much less speak. But little by little, he is helping me to feel safe to explore things and talk about more and more. I've asked him so many different times and different ways if he will think I'm filthy and disgusting and can't be touched. I've asked him if he will always think of what happened whenever he looks at me. Thankfully, he is an expert shame-buster and has been able to make me feel safe enough when I used to never ever think I could ever tell anyone. I don't know how he does it except that he must be gifted. Now it's just getting over the final hurdle of saying it out loud.

You're NOT alone... and you're not gross and you're not stupid. I promise. I still battle with those feelings of being dirty and disgusting, but it helps to replay over and over in my mind what my T has told me over and over and OVER again. That I am not to blame, that I had no control over what happened, that if I felt pleasure when it happened that it didn't mean I liked it or wanted it to happen, that it was a natural physical reaction and I had no control over it. And that he could never associate what happened to me as a representation of who I am as a person.

Sending hugs to you if you'd like.