I’m back. Don’t get all fussy with me about the hiatus that I decided to take. In all reality, the guy who reviewed my blog has caused me many a restless night. So, after tossing and turning, and trying to decide whether or not to make a triumphant return to the world of blogging – here I am.
You can complain all you want. There’s plenty of porn and sex discussion to come.
Since previous posts I’ve had the opportunity to speak with a few people about their own sexual growth – mostly the early formation of sexual thought during childhood, and the situations that caused their current outlook on sexuality. There’s one story in particular that has been burned in my mind. You’ll see why.
Jess grew up in a home with an abusive father, and a mother that had more concern with her own internal problems than her three little girls. Because of this, Jess had to mature at a young age and was forced to fend for herself in many situations around the house. During grade school, her mother left her father due to many unhealthy situations in the marriage (abuse, infidelity, etc.). After the divorce, Jess’ mother moved around from house to apartment, to house, to apartment, to friend’s couches, to house, to apartment, to car, to house, to apartment, to boyfriend’s house, to girlfriend’s apartment, to new boyfriend’s house, to current husband’s house, to boyfriend’s house, to boyfriend’s apartment, to girlfriend’s house, to boyfriend’s house…annoyed yet? So was Jess.
Around 13 years old, Jess and her sisters were living in a house with their mother and her mother’s current boyfriend. Jess didn’t have many friends because of the constant moving, and she confided in her mother’s boyfriend who spent a lot of time with the girls. A friendship developed, but naïve Jess didn’t realize what was happening. One night, as everyone in the house was sleeping, Jess was startled out of her sleep by her mother’s boyfriend climbing on top of her and whispering, “Don’t you say a fucking word. If you scream, or tell anyone, I will kill your mom and your sisters.” As the 40 year old man took off Jess’ pants she was in sheer terror. She could only cry and slip into panic as her mother’s boyfriend both vaginally and anally raped her.
It happened this way for two weeks straight.
What was left of Jess’ childhood was ripped away from her. She felt if she told her mother or anyone at the time the man would kill her family. So she held it in. The abuse, the hurt, the questions, the emotional distraught that comes along with being raped – she held it all in.
I want this story to soak in, so I’m not going to comment until my next post. Do Jess a favor and read her story again. Try to feel what she felt.