This feels very true. It certainly felt like a mix of many different...
I totally understand where you’re coming from. Sometimes I wish my brother was outright violent and forceful – it would leave less room for me to doubt whether I “wanted it” or not, or whether it was abuse or not. I still struggle with this issue. A lot. My mixed feelings about him -- he was both my best friend and my abuser -- don't make it any easier. And it’s compounded by the fact that, like you, my memories of the trauma are incomplete and foggy, and I often doubt their legitimacy at all. But here are a couple things I’ve learned.
1) I know, for sure, that the things that happened to me with my brother were devastating to me. They changed and shaped me, and they left me with severe PTSD symptoms and deep emotional scars. Did my brother mean to devastate me? I don’t know for sure. Probably not. But he still did. And when I’m in therapy and trying to figure all this confusing stuff out, I try to remember that I’m not in a court of law or a forensic interview. It’s not my job to try to figure out what was going on in his head, whether he should blame himself, whether he should be punished, whether he meant to, if he even knew what he was doing, any of that. It’s not my job to assign blame. It’s my job to understand how the experiences affected me and how to heal from them. That’s more than enough for any of us to do.
2) Even though my brother wasn’t physically threatening, or explicitly intimidating me in the moment of the abuse, there was a very real threat for me – the loss of love and relationship (with him, and with my parents. I was sure my mom and dad would be furious.), the loss of identity (in my family, I was the “good girl” who never caused any problems. Telling anyone about what happened would change all that.), and the loss of the last bit of stability in my already unstable home. Those threats were real enough. So even though I may not have been scared of
him in the immediate moment of the abuse, I was scared of the consequences of anyone finding out. So I played along not because I wanted sex, but because I wanted peace and stability and love. I don’t know what your family dynamics were like, or what the implicit threats were for you, but I’m guessing they were similar, and I’m sure they were there. There’s a threat for every kid who’s being abused – even if it’s just that it feels like the whole world will fall apart if you talk about any of it.
I hope this is helpful in some way. <3