*WARNING: read before allowing your child to read*

One of the most uncomfortable statements, for me, comes at the end of every blood or urine collection/examination and has always been, “well, good news, you’re not pregnant…” Being who I am, I try to make my discomfort a joke and always reply, “Oh good, that means I’m not the next Mother Mary.” {sorry to all whom that offends} Maybe I’m just too sensitive, but it seriously sends shutters down my spine every single time. When I was younger, I was so terrified that the test would come back positive. I knew that it was possible to become pregnant at 11 and 12 years old, because they talked about it in our maturation classes, and I was deathly terrified. I remember wondering what I would do, what would happen, could I take care of another baby, etc. and hoping that I never became pregnant. I wondered if I’d have the guts to kill the baby had it been born, or if I’d have to drop out of school–my safety net–and move. I thought through all possibilities of explaining it to my parents. I worried that if I were to get impregnated Unakite or my mom might take my life out of anger, and fear of exposure.  So each time I went to the doctor and they took that small vial of blood I waited, impatiently, for the news, hoping I wasn’t pregnant. Now that I’m older it almost offends me. I don’t expect the doctors to know that for over half of my life I was being sexually abused, so perhaps the defense stems from fear. Fear of what, I don’t know. Fear that they are implying that I’m sexually active. Fear that they, too, might think that I’m a whore or a slut. Fear that somehow it will show up positive even though I know it’s impossible. And so I reply, “Oh good, that means I’m not the next Mother Mary.” Now, I face an even bigger dilemma on an almost daily basis, a dilemma I don’t have a comeback for. People my age are into relationship and the things that come with it. Some of them choose significant others, others choose friends with benefit {FWB}, and some just choose to get married…none of which I take part. I am often asked why I choose not to participate in any of these relationships and am more times than not pressured to answer. Up to this point my answer has been, “because I have no need to be.” It’s honest and its short. Most people are okay with it, but I’m not. Just like the doctors statement, I find it somewhat offensive. I start to feel defensive and, honestly, quite confused. I’m not like them. I don’t feel the need because I don’t understand the need. I don’t understand the need because my need was taken from me at such an early age–and so unjustly. While we were at an age that most of them were worried about cuties, I had already had  sex 101+ memorized. When we were learning cursive and chasing each other in tag, I had already mastered the “pleasure” game. When we were graduating from elementary to jr and most of them were still oblivious to the relationship world, I was learning the strings of play and trade. When they all started finally coming around and “experimenting”, I had already “slept” with more people than I have fingers. I was considered a whore, not only by those who hurt me…but by some of my classmates and teachers as well. That was not even 8th grade. So, when people talk about their love life, I don’t understand. When I think about the idea of losing my innocence and understanding what so many see as a need, my mind swirls in confusion. Maybe I am a bit over sensitive, I don’t know, but tonight I wept. For so long, to so many, I was considered a slut or a whore and when I look in a mirror, I sometimes still see that. Because of all the horrid things that happened to it and because of the many bad memories it holds, I don’t always like my body. I look into the mirror and often times I am reminded of the ugly past in which I held, and I am quickly angered.  But tonight I wept. As I looked at a recent picture of me and for the first time I felt pretty, I felt like I was beautiful, I didn’t quite understand how someone so beautiful could come from something so ugly.


2 thoughts on “Tonight I Wept

  1. I have cared for a lot of little babies. I know that from the very start they have their own very distinct personalities. Whatever your personality traits may be, they are nothing to do with the things that were done to you or the labels that some people may chose to use because of their own fears and insecurities. Saying that the dreadful things that were done to you were ‘not your fault’ is easy to say but hard to believe and to live. Relationships are about trust. It makes a lot of sense to me that you would chose not to risk having your trust betrayed. Focussing on your own needs is so important. You do seem to be making some progress towards becoming the treasure in your title. Seeing yourself as being pretty is a beautiful indicator of that!

  2. We have desires to write often too. I understand it as internal processing tool – and is nice too in that it confirms thinking processes for other parts – and sometimes even an external world. Many things you say make sense to us in a confirmatory way such as sometimes feeling numb, needing to escape, being on auto mode, blocking emotions, confusion, etc. I’m not real familiar though of going through adoption processes (start/finish). I felt like I was alone within my family like being on a disjointed island. Feeling that i was part of them felt more painful then that. I couldn’t figure out how I would survive them until finally the age came that we could leave home. My parents hadn’t saved money for college, but thought they were poor enough so that i could gain a school loan which we did. It was a bad family and even with us living in the same household … hugs had stopped at about four years of age. There was so much anger between us – and lack of trust/love. I don’t mean to make what happened to me sound more or less important than your experience, but I do want to say in reading your posts, I was able to identify with loneliness and alienation. I would have hoped for you a better life, but since that is not possible of your past, that you are able to then better your older existence, necessarily, because I don’t think you can do much worse than a horrid childhood. Every year after is better, because you will never live again in your past. Sometimes its hard to see this, because the parts still feel the past as if in the present. My advise is then to find someone conscious-able who will help you learn from the past, but help you always to return to the present where you have the ability to make choices that are good and safe for yourself. In the end its always about you … or me for me/us. Demand better! That kind of stuff you are able to do in calming the voices/girls are gifts of love. You have that buried within!

    With much appreciation … always our best,



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s