Originally posted in 2021
I’ve been trying to figure out on my Facebook Page and through posts what exactly I want me website to do. I know I’m being led to somehow make the world my children are growing up in a little safer than the world I grew up in. To do that we have to talk about just how many of us, young adults, parents, grandparents, and everyone else in between, has suffered from some sort of sexual and/or domestic abuse. You probably don’t realize that after writing My First Rape Story the sheer number of people that I know who told me just glimpses of their stories pretty much dropped me to my knees. Mind you, I knew the number was going to be high, but males, females, transgender, and non-gender conforming alike all had a story to tell.
What does that say about the world my kids are growing up in? I can’t fix everything, because well I had a phone attached to a wall and they have instant access to the whole world. However, I can help myself and others tell their stories of not fitting in, learning to talk about our needs, and how much being able to say No really means, no matter what the circumstances may be. I am that mom that teaches her kids appropriate names for their privates and walks around nonchalantly saying things like “stop touching your penis with your fork and eat dinner;” or “yes boys have penises and girls have vaginas;” as well as “if my child doesn’t want to give you a hug she doesn’t have to;” and “if your friend changes their name and doesn’t want to be called a she anymore, it doesn’t matter because you are both still Potter Heads.”
Why are these things so important to teach our children? Well as I grew up, talking about all things sexual was kept behind closed doors. It still is! I just started selling products for a home novelties company, in that I literally just finished training and haven’t sold anything; but even when telling adults about it more than half turn red from embarrassment. Why can’t we talk about one of the biggest parts of our lives? Well my website is meant for just that, talking about those hidden areas of life. The problem is I keep hitting what feels like a brick wall. In reality, that brick wall is really my fear from years and years of believing I’m less of a person than someone else. I keep trying to make myself fit into a pretty little box but, guess what? I don’t fit your box or anyone else’s… I still believe the world is good and nothing anyone says or does can make me believe otherwise. Trust me, they’ve tried.
I had troubles as a student to say the least, but not because I wasn’t smart enough. I took the SAT’s in 7th grade and did better than 60% of the graduating seniors. I only needed 20 more points in ELA and my math was above what I needed. I could have gotten a paid summer position at John Hopkins University as an almost 8th grader. Why was I struggling in school from pretty much the second I stepped through those middle school doors in a new town? I no longer had to worry about sleeping at night in my own bed, but what was still there? I’m not sure I’m equipped to answer that, but I do know this new place was nothing like where we had lived in the past. My brother and I knew how to move. Ooops, I’ll make new friends wherever I land. It was pretty much how my brother rolled. I pretty much stuck my head in a book and tried not to look up. If I didn’t get noticed everything was great, teachers would leave me alone and other peers would never notice that I couldn’t look them in the eye when I talked. I still got transferred out of public into private school for high school because they were going to take me out of honors courses, but private school used placement testing to keep me in advanced courses. So there I was all honors and failing senior English because I didn’t do the work. I had a boyfriend then, well honestly, I had two. One was a senior in highschool like me and one was 10 years older. The older one, Scott, had also been my first ‘chosen’ sexual partner two years earlier. The following is something I wrote a while ago and is how some things meshed in my brain… but the one who taught me I wasn’t worth anything was Scott. Yes, it would get way worse before I figured out how to change my life, but his voice played over and over in my head for years while we were together, even married, and continued for years after I finally got the nerve to leave.
Written 12/10/18
I grew up being told only babies cried. That if I wanted something to cry about he’d give me something to cry about. That my life wasn’t worth anything but to please him. I can make any man cum it’s just about learning his cues… but what does that give me at the end of the day? Insecurity and fear. I came to a scary realization today – I’ve probably known this for years subconsciously. I crave to be in control of my life so much that I don’t like alcohol or drugs; but I don’t need to control pain I know how that feels and the adrenaline that spikes because of it. I crave that adrenaline the rush of knowing pain is coming gives me the relief of not knowing what will come next. Being choked and knowing that there is no feeling with it just release. Being fucked as hard as humanly possible so he feels a release instead of gently and lovingly because really who will ever love me? And it just draws out the inevitable indescribable pain that comes from any man trying to make love to me.
Are you sitting there asking yourself the point of this post? Well it’s this – We need to start teaching ourselves that our interactions with others should always be “Safe, Sane, and Consensual.” That way we can teach our children that it doesn’t matter what they say NO to, when it comes to their body or who they are, because we are also able to say NO. If I can’t have a relationship that falls under the four pillars, which are “Trust, Respect, Honesty, and Communication,” how can I expect to teach my children and others to live that life?