It was only once. It was hard for me to label what happened “abuse”. I was 8 or 9 or 10 – can’t seem to pin down the year. The two boys were 4 years older than me, so 12, 13 or 14.
They didn’t force me and they didn’t hurt me. I wanted to please them and I wanted to know that they were so interested in down there.
And I couldn’t figure out as an adult why I was so pulled in and angry, so very protective of myself sexually. Why all tension went to my pelvis. Why I passed out at orgasm. Scary.
And I was in my thirties when my therapist said – “did you know that when you mention him you put your hand over your vagina?”
And I spent two years in agony cleaning out the wound. Two years of snapping into a foetal crouch when making love with the love of my life. Months of the damage coming out in blisters all over my hands, raw, weeping.
Two years of a lot of tender loving care from my partner, my therapist and my dog. Each one essential. And the book – Courage to Heal. And the group – Sexual Abuse Anonymous.
It was only once. It wasn’t rape. It wasn’t that bad. But it was. It was enough to cross over the line. I should have been protected. They were old enough to know better. I know by my pain, by how hard it was to learn to trust, to heal, that it was abuse.
Posted by paul at December 01, 2002 09:50 PM