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Monday, November 08, 2010

Man Memories

***Usual family disclaimer. Graphic and detailed, leave or read, but don't mention it to me***

I'm finding it difficult to look in the mirror these days.

I'm thinking it may be time to pick my camera up, and look for that beauty I always seemed to find with my timer. I miss the self-exploration, and the freedom it gave me. Haven't really done that a lot over the past few months. Really, there's just not many pictures of me from the past 7 months, and that says a lot to me.

I've always had a tough time trusting men. From what I grew up with, who can blame me?
I'm going to go through some details from a point in my past which I truly try to forget. They've been preying on my mind lately, because of an issue that arose recently.

Right now, I know I'm back to square one. I don't care for this fact, not one bit. It really feels like it's just been done so many times, how many more fresh starts can I possible stand to do?
I was complaining today, the past month, in fact, about not having my usually collection of decorations, both for Halloween and Christmas, that I'm accustomed to. Normally this wouldn't deter me, but As I'm starting over again with learning this self love, I really feel overwhelmed by the fact that that's just another thing to add to the list.

Anyways, on with the memory purge...

I'm 10 years old, and my Great Grandfather is visiting my Gramma. It's the middle of the day, but he's drunk. He's getting ready to go hunting, and he insists on kissing all of the girls goodbye. When I kiss him he gropes my bum and shoves his tongue in my mouth. I can taste the beer he's been drinking for hours afterwards.

I'm 12, and my friend invites me out to drink. She's a scungy person, in a run down home with no adults present in it...ever. She takes me hitch hiking with her around in Kelowna. One night this guy picks us up, offers to buy us alcohol, and insists on driving us up onto the back forest roads to polish of a bottle of whatever it was he bought for us. Eventually he manages to split us up. I've lost my friend in the woods, and it's starting to get dark. Somehow we find each other, and convince him to take us back close to her home and escape without him being able to find us.

I'm 13, it's summertime. I'm at a random party, which another street girl has led me to. There's drugs everywhere, and somehow, the girl who brought me to the party disappears. I'm left to sleep curled up alone on a chair until the sun rises, and I run out of the house because the few remaining partiers are trying to drag me into their bedroom.

I'm 13, and I've hitchhiked down to Penticton from Kelowna (A 45 minute drive away) for no reason. I wanted a change of scenery. I walk the streets, veg on the beach in the night, and eventually make my way to their Denny's, as it's the closest landmark I can think to walk to that's open so late. I wind up hooking up with a group of people (a girl and two guys). They invite me back to their apartment, and I go along. I don't recall how many days I was there for, but I know I was panhandling for money to buy myself a meal or two while I was there. The girl eventually leaves because she knows the guys are fighting over me. I've not shown any preference for them, as I wasn't interested. One night we partied, and they got into a fight in front of me about who's going to get down my pants first. I leave the next morning and never see them again.

I'm 15 and I'm spending the evenings at a trusted friends house. I can't recall why I'm so upset, but I feel safe going to his house and spending many a night there. I've always slept in the bed with him, and felt safe. Maybe that's why I go so often. One morning I wake up to find him grinning, and not able to keep it to himself. Eventually I ask why he's grinning so much. Just as I'm climbing on the city bus headed for home, he whispers in my ear that I have really perky breasts. I look at him quizzically, and he grins and says he couldn't resist copping a feel in the middle of the night. I never go and visit him again.

I'm 13 and have spent a glorious summer night next to a bonfire at a friends' house with a guy friend she had over. We talked, and he held me while we stared at the stars all night. The next day my friend teases me because he told her we did it. I vehemently deny it, but she says she knows I did it with him because I'm a slut. I felt betrayed because I actually thought he liked me.

I'm 14 and I've spent a few nights having "phone sex"with some random guy my cousin introduced me to (with cousin giggling while she's watching me, and me covering the phone whenever I need to laugh). I somehow manage to get invited to go camping with his friend and him. I go with them for the night, but in the middle of the night I step away from their fire to go pee, and he follows me. He pins me on a hillside and gets my pants down. I'm struggling and asking him to stop. Eventually his friend pulls him off of me and lets me sleep in his truck with the doors locked.

I'm 14 at a party with my friends who live in the complex where my home is located. I've had too much to drink and smoke, and am on the verge of passing out in my friends bed, knowing I'd be safe if I did. A few of my friends climb into bed with me and begin to kiss my neck. I'm disgusted by the fact that my body responds, and one of the boys calls himself my little brother, and quite often looks to me for protection.

I'm 19 and have broken up with my first husband. I've polished off a big bottle of whiskey before I head to the bar and convince someone to buy me more, even though I'm under age. He takes me to his truck, and while we're drinking in the backseat, he excuses himself. He's gone a long time, so I lie down in the backseat and pass out. I wake up to him on top of me, rutting like a bull, and grunting in the most grotesque way. I'm so drunk I just let him finish, rather than try and fight him.

I'm 19 and I'm signing myself up to be a model. When I arrive, I find it's just some sleazeball looking to take pornographic pictures. He pays me $100 to take my picture in lingerie he had stuffed in his closet. I'm so high I don't care, but when I get home and tell the people I live with, they ask me to show them what poses I did. I polish off a box of wine before I comply, and come to to find two men sucking my nipples and masturbating on me before I come back to my senses and break for my bedroom.

I'm 19 and I'm stripping at a bar about 30 minutes away from where I live. I'm showering and getting ready for work when a roommate of mine leads in a group of his guy friends in to watch me shower and shave. I'm high again, the people I've moved in with have me on a steady stream of cocaine that's really strong. I didn't realize the group of guys was there until I'm almost finished. I yell at them to get out and leave me alone, and struggle to remember how long they had been watching me.

I'm 29 now. This shit is supposed to be over and done with. Turns out, it's not.
I'm back to not trusting men.
It takes all I have in me to talk to my clients' significant others, to meet my co-workers gazes, and to chat amicably with my Mr's friends without bolting and making a break for the door or cowering in fear. Thankfully, my children have been there when that happens, and I use them as an excuse. I know that won't last. I'm working my way back...to trying to trust men. To finding that safe ground. I feel violated, demeaned, and like I'm never ever going to find a sanctuary again.
I'm faking everything outside of my own home. I'm making sure my kids don't see my anxiety. I'm medicated. I'm back to square fucking one and frustrated as shit and the injustice of it because it's just not fucking fair that I am who I fucking am.

4 thoughtful remarks:

Osbasso said...

Awww, hon... The best thing I can take out of this is that, not once, do you blame yourself for their actions. Keep that first and foremost! As for Mr., he's a keeper--don't let him go!

I hate reading things like this. These guys give my gender such a bad name.

Carina the Blogarina said...

*hugs*

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