I was recommended by a hospital counselor today to this website to maybe tell my story anonymously so that it’s out to people other than my personal counselor.
To start, I am a male. And I am fully aware that what happened to me is not nearly as bad as what has happened to others.
When i was around 7, I was at a neighbor girl’s home. She was a bit older, 10 or 11. There were several of us in her bedroom and we were all playing school. She was the principal and the rest of us were students. She would occasionally call a student into her “office”, which was her bedroom closet. When the “student” would enter and the closet door closed behind, we could hear her scolding them for either their grades or their behavior. It was loud, conspicuous and playful. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. When it was my turn to be called into the “office” it was a different story. She immediately began whispering and telling me that she loved me. She kissed me on the mouth, full tongue and moved her hands down the front of my pants. Being young and stupid, I followed suit and put my hands down the front of her pants. She kept saying she loved me and then a plan was made to meet another day, behind her father’s shed. I don’t remember much about that rest of that day. My next real memory starts when I was going behind the shed with her a day or so later. Behind the shed, we stripped down, made out more and proceeded to perform every sex act I can imagine, with the exception of full intercourse. During performing oral sex on her, she would frequently tell me to do it harder or faster. And in the end, when all was said and done, she sat straight up and started telling me how scared she was. It was a disturbing shift in tone and I remember being uncomfortable about it. We ended the day with her telling me that she wanted to meet out in a cord field that Thursday to have sex. I didn’t know what the word meant, so I didn’t go. She later pulled me aside in her garage and told me she no longer wanted to see me, and that her younger brother was better at kissing than I was. I was hurt and confused, but I took it and went on. She moved out of state shortly thereafter. Many, many years later, I learned that she, herself, was being sexually abused. I do not hate her, and, in fact, even though my wife tells me I’m crazy, I have nothing but compassion and concern for her. I hope she’s okay.
That is sort of the start. When I was about 11 or 12, we moved neighborhoods, and being foolish and young for my age, I befriended a naive young neighborhood boy, and we engaged in similar behaviors. Eventually, I woke up one day wondering what in the hell I was doing, then just stopped and never spoke of it again. When I was 22, I was called into a local detective’s office to recount what had happened to this now young man. I cannot get over being a part of his abuse, and creating the same kind of pain and confusion that I also have experienced and still struggle with today.
I am now in regular therapy, and the last horrible side effect of my experience of being seven finally came out to my therapist. With my first (and to date, most intense) sexual experience happening the way it did, my sexuality has become imprinted on the body of a 10 year old girl, and that attraction is still there. My therapist thinks by re-framing my experiences at 7, she thinks I can rewrite and/or minimize this despicable attraction to younger girls that my brain still harbors. Since the experience with the neighborhood boy when I was 12, I have never acted in any way inappropriate. I’ve not broken any laws and I stand firm in not ever wanting to harm a child. I want nobody else in the world to feel the way I feel (or worse, as I understand that my experience isn’t nearly as bad as those of others). This chain of abuse must die with me and the other two involved in my story.
Thanks for reading, and I hope that my childhood sins and the current sins of my mind don’t cause you to hate me as much as I hate myself.