I Never Knew The Feeling24 Jun, 2016 05:10 AM
I don't know what to call this, or what the point of this even is really.. I just know that these last few weeks I've been a prisoner in my own mind once again after fighting so hard all of these years to escape. Maybe by letting others know some of the things that make me who I am and no longer keeping them my own memories will help me from myself..
I don't know exactly how old I was when this happened, I just know that I was very young. I know that it was before I started school, so I believe it was around the age of three or four. That would make my brother two or three at the time.
Me and my brother, were taken away from my parents at this age and put into foster care for an unknown length of time. ( Do to false accusations and corrupt powerful people.) Our foster mother's name was Ms. Pickle and I do not recall a father figure in the home. She was very kind and always made sure to provide us with anything we might need. It was so long ago now that I cannot recall her facial features, but I believe she was older with white hair. We lived in her home with two other boys who were both teenagers at the time. I was very fond of the oldest boy. He always made sure that I was happy and protected me from the bad things I faced while there. He was always kind to me and my brother and I am forever thankful to have had such a kind heart in my life in a time like that.
The other boy.. the other boy is the reason I fear of closing my eyes at night. The reason I'd rather lay in bed with a boy with the lights on all night than in the darkness..
That boy made me believe that sex was something meant to be given whenever a male wanted, that it was not as special as other people believed and that it was not my right to say no. He made me think that I was worthless, and made me hate my body. That boy will forever be implanted in my memories and haunt the relationships I have with any other male in my life. I guess by sharing my story, I am to tell what actually happened.. so here.
As a little girl, I had the usual fear of the dark. So in the middle of the night I would lay the opposite way on my bed so that I could see the light in the hallway and fall asleep "safely". The night it all began was because I did this very thing to avoid laying in the dark. The boy who is in my nightmares now walked out of his room and saw me laying the wrong way in my bed and came into the room. I was expecting him to ask me if I was alright because he had come off as my friend in the beginning. BUT that night he was angry. I don't know if he was angry with me, or if he was angry at life, but he sure took it out on me. He grabbed me by my arm and pushed me roughly to his room across the hall. I was so confused at where this anger for me had come from and why he was taking me into his room. And so, there I am standing in his room, staring up at him trying to figure out what's going to happen next. Suddenly he's loudly asking me what I want from him and why I'm not sleeping. I didn't know how to answer him and so I remained silent. He continued to ask me what it was that I wanted from him, growing angrier each time he asked. Soon he took it upon himself to infer what it was that I "wanted" from him, and so he pulled down his pants and asked me if that is what I wanted. If I wanted to touch him inappropriately and make him feel good. He decided for me that that was exactly what I wanted and from that night on gave me no choice. Every night I feared bed time, and soon I tried to embrace the dark, because the things in the light scared me more. But not even the dark could save me anymore. He would come into my room at night after I had finally fallen asleep. I don't know how many night I would wake up to him pulling my underwear down to my ankles, and I was too frightened to stop him. I couldn't scream out for help or hit him or even try and wake up my brother who was sleeping in the same room. I had to lay there until he was done with me, wait for him to leave my room and hear the click of his door. Then wait until I was sure he wouldn't be coming back for the night so that I could pull my underwear back up. Once I had pulled them up again thinking that since he went to his room he was done, and just as I had thought the coast was clear, he came back to find me redressed and became mad. That was one of the longest nights of my life. My nights continued like that until I finally got to come back home.
That boy helped me decide that engaging in sexual activity was no big deal when a boy said he loved me and wanted in my pants in the summer between seventh and eight grade. I felt like I didn't have the right to say no, and ever since then anytime I was put in the position of having sex or saying no, it seemed like I was never really allowed to say no. If making out got too heated and I said that we needed to stop, somehow I would be the bad guy, or they would just keep going and I would just give in because that's how it's supposed to be I thought. I stayed believing that up until the weekend after I graduated from high school. We had a small party and there was a boy there that I new I wanted to make out with and just spend the night with. Don't get me wrong, I did want to sleep with him, but I'm not the type where I can just " hit it and quit it." So the night went on and everyone started getting ready to lay down. The odds were in my favor and I got my night with that boy. Thinking about it now, I realize that the drunk me was very lucky that night; I spent the night laying in bed next to one of the most caring and sweetest boys I've ever came in contact with. While everyone else outside the room expected him to be taking advantage of me at the time, he was really making sure I was taken care of and had everything I needed. At the beginning things did get heated, I thought that I could handle a one night thing. But while in the moment I remembered who I really was, and that I wouldn't be okay with my choice in the morning. So while in the moment, I asked him if I could stop. If me stopping was okay; I asked him if it was okay IF I STOPPED BECAUSE I DIDNT WANT TO MAKE HIM MAD. That's really fucked up. I should never have to ask another for permission to stop; that is my right, and Cam helped me realize that. He helped me because instead of asking me to continue, he told me that it was okay and rolled me over so the he could hold me. He never asked me to do more than I was comfortable with, and never once got angry with me because of my choice. He respected me not only in bed, but as a human being, and I have never felt so important in all my life. That one night has stuck on my mind every night since; not only that night though, every night we've spent together since then as well. Because every night spent with him has been a night that I felt like a human, a woman with rights, a fucking person that is loved. I don't know what will become of me and him in the future, but I know for certain that he will forever have made the biggest impact on my life. He has a piece of my heart that no other human will have. Thank you Cam for unknowingly changing my life.