I told myself recently that if I really wanted to live my soulprint that I would have to be honest in my writing and write for me not what I think people would want from me. I believe that by pouring my soul in to my writing the universe will reward me for it. It what way? Im not sure. Peace of mind, freedom, acceptance. Who knows. I just know that this is something I need to get out.
I think we all live with secrets. In many ways secrets hide the evil in you. They linger in the darkest corners of our mind yet are a big influence on how we interact with people we love. Living with secrets can kill. We know this. But it becomes a matter of are you gonna let this possess you or will you exorcise it. Im choosing the latter.
It will probably be expanded upon in other writings that I’ll do but I feel like the facts need to be covered more than anything first. My mother is a recovering addict celebrating 22 years clean. But there was a darker time. After my mom and dad broke up my mom moved back to Pittsburgh from Washington, DC feeling heartbroken and rejected. She turned to the drugs to ease her pain. In the depths of her addiction my Grandma, my mother’s mother, called my dad and told him she wasn’t doing too well and that he needed to come get me. Cut to living with my Grandma in DC with three grown uncles. My dad, didn’t have the time and wouldn’t consider being a single parent dad.
Growing up all I wanted was my mom. I didn’t know exactly what was going on with my mom but I knew I didn’t live with her because she was getting better. I feel like this was critical to my emotional development. I would be sad and didnt have anyone to talk to about it. I felt empty and lonely a lot. I would be embarassed to invite friends over my house for birthday parties because I didn’t live with my mom.
It was around the age of 5 that can say I really remember when things changed. A female cousin of mine began to take a lot of interest in me. She was at least 6 years older than me. I don’t really remember the first sexual encounter but I know she got a beating for it. I was hollered at by my aunt. It’s all really fuzzy now but isn’t it like that with things we want to forget. The abuse was never. Im catching myself in mid sentence. This is the first time Im writing about it so its hard for me to see this all in words. It wasn’t malicious. Nothing hurt but I knew what was being done was wrong. But I never had anyone show me that kind of affection before. Sometimes the shit happened in front of other family members. I just wish I had somebody in my corner. That I could talk to. That could help me make sense of all this madness. I was a sexualized at a young age and nobody could turn it off.
Cut to living with my mom in Pittsburgh after a custody battle with my dad. I wanted my mom and now I had her! But there was a disconnect there. I don’t know what it is really. During my DC stay my mom would come and visit staying a few days here and there. Christmas, birthdays, I even spent a summer in St.Clair Village once. But in my formative years she was taking care of her self. We missed out on those years. She is the first woman I’ve ever loved and the first woman’s embrace I was detached from. Looking back on it I know it’s not whining. I wanted my mom and she wasn’t there to protect me. Those are just the facts.
I’ve never been able to establish a healthy concept of sexuality. As I got older and kept having those memories I began to suppress them more because around 10-12 years old boys started talking about sex. I didn’t talk about sex because I was ashamed of what had happened to me as a child. I was ashamed of sex. I just didn’t like how much sexuality had a hold on me. It disgusted me honestly. I had different encounters. I guess when I got to high school I realized that having sex was the norm. All my friends were losing their v-cards so I lost my virginity too. I was 17. She didn’t mean anything to me and I only saw her once.
When I read an article with Chris Brown talking about being molested by his babysitter I understood his pain. He tried to play it off like he was sexually advanced but what happened to him probably fucked his head up for life. He probably has issues that stem from it. But men aren’t allowed to be the victims to the hands of a woman. Society doesn’t allow it. How often do we hear about hot teachers with male students and nobody calls the boy a victim. He’s a participant. Because if he’s a boy he knows what he’s doing right?
For a while its been a source of my insecurity. For me it feels like wearing a shirt that everyone can see that I hate and can’t take off. Its not the whole outfit but if I could switch my shirt for a new one I would. Im learning to accept it. I’m learning that it wasn’t my fault. This doesn’t make me broken. Let go of the shame and the guilt that I feel. Let go of it all.
Im enticed by the same thing Im ashamed of.
Do I need love with my sex so that it’s real for me.
How do I properly heal from this? Do I ever?
Idk. I want to overcome some things.
And grow in the process by letting go of somethings…