A Cry in the Dark

Monday, May 29, 2006

rambling thoughts....

I am going to apologize in advance.  This particular posting is a bit messy and unstructured.  There are some thoughts that have popped into my head the last couple of days that I just want to get down.  They are not things that particularly bother me, but I hope that writing them out will either bring some cohesion to the process that is bringing them up now or at least allow me to let them go.

I became aware of my sexuality at a very young age.  While it wasn't necessarily voluntary, it’s been a part of my life for so long that I have no comparative perspective.  My uncle introduced me to his cock when I was three.  I can vividly remember the whole experience, where we were, why I was there and even some of the words he used.  (It’s not a memory that is painful any longer, it is just a part of my history now.)  I remember him telling me that I was too small for him to give me his present right now, but he promised that one day I would be big enough for it.  I remember being a bit puzzled by that.

When I was four, I remember being in the basement of our house, playing with my little kitchen and toy dishes.  I was the only person down there and, for some reason, his comment came to mind.  He had touched my crotch when he said I was too small and I wondered what he was talking about.  I pulled my panties down and started touching myself all over.  The only place I could find that made any sense to me was my anus.  As I touched myself there, letting my fingers push and prod, I wondered how he could possibly fit there.

Was I somehow marked by this experience?  So many incidents during my childhood that make me wonder if there was something about me that was visible.  The babysitter’s teen-aged son holding me on his lap and rubbing my crotch.  The two boys chasing me around the yard, tackling me, then pulling my shirt off when I was ten.  Each of them rubbed and sucked on my nipples, telling me that it was what boys were supposed to do.  The two high school boys pulling me into the closet when I was eleven, sandwiching me between them, hands all over me, arousing me in ways I just didn’t understand.  One of those same high school boys fingering my pussy in the swimming pool.  My best friend in junior high offering to have her brother “pee” in me.  My cousin dry-humping me in the barn hayloft.

Even ten years later, I was too small for my uncle.  He tried to give me a special present on my birthday, but couldn’t fit.  His fingers did, though, and he showed me that the pleasure I had learnt to give myself could be given by another.  I had loved him before, but after that I adored him.  It took a couple more years for me to realize that what he had done was not love.  Actually, it took me many years to truly learn that sex from someone was not love.  (Yes, it does seem kind of silly that it took me so long to learn that, doesn’t it?  All I can say is that I grew up in a very sheltered home, in a very small, close-minded community.  There were a LOT of things I didn’t learn until very late.  And, yes, some of those lessons were more painful for not learning them earlier.)

I have to wonder if experiences such as this are normal for girls when they are growing up.  How does it impact their personal view of their sexuality?  Do these memories truly color the person I am today?  Or is it just easier to say that I have certain wants, needs or desires because of what has happened rather than look for a true cause?  Does it matter what the cause is?  Will it intensify my current or future relationships to have a better understanding?  Or is it immaterial, as it just is what it is?

Strange that these memories are flashing into my mind at this time.  I can’t think of any reason why they would.  Well, maybe by posting them, they will go back into the ether.  Or wherever it is that they came from....

Posted by WistfulWench :: 7:43 AM :: 7 comments