Reasons You Shouldn’t Fuck Kids

Reason #107: Michael Jackson

This post will probably not be popular, because right now everyone doesn’t see that the emperor was an alleged pedophile, but here goes anyway.

On Friday, “Good Morning America”, spent the entire two-hour program extolling the virtues of Michael Jackson. I mean, sure, there’s other news in the world, but apparently who cares? Michael Jackson DIED.

Everywhere I go, I hear the words ‘tragic’ and ‘untimely’. I just don’t get it. Really, I don’t. I know people loved him, but are we all forgetting that he liked to get into bed with little boys? I mean, no one will ever know for certain what exactly transpired between him and those little boys, but he admitted to getting into bed with them. He’s an adult, and they were little boys. Doesn’t anyone tap their fingers to their heads and say “Hmmm”???

The thing is, I realize he was a very talented man who created wonderful music that the whole world loved. I get that. But what I don’t get is people putting him on a pedestal after his death. When he was alive, everyone thought of him as a child molester. People were ridiculing him for the molestation and many other things up until the minute he died. Why does he now have to be Saint Michael Jackson? I mean, shit, just admit that he was both – a creator of wonderful music and also a man that liked to befriend and get into bed with little boys.

This is why survivors have such a hard time. Even when the alleged molester admits to doing certain things, still everyone is ‘unsure’. I can hear everyone saying “Nothing was proven.” You’re right. Nothing was proven, kind of. BUT, he admitted to giving little boys wine, and getting into bed with them. Now, I don’t know about you, but if my little boy were to go sleep over someone else’s house and an adult male got into bed with him, I would be feeling rageful. And as I always say, if you’re so sure he isn’t a child molester, why don’t you go ahead and let him babysit your son, and see how you feel then?

I think it’s tragic that the victims of Michael Jackson have to turn on the news and know that the whole world thinks they are lying or just out for the money, even when the alleged pedophile himself admitted to sleeping in the bed with them. And not just one child, mind you. Several children. He paid off the first little boy’s parents, and then went ahead and slept with several more until they charged him again.

They interviewed Andrew Vachss during the Michael Jackson child molestation trial, and he said “The one thing that all pedophiles have in common is a profound sense of entitlement”. And if you recall, when Michael Jackson was repeatedly interviewed about his habit of sleeping with little boys, he always defended this practice as though it was the right thing to do.

Did Michael Jackson do good things, like create beautiful music and charities, etc? Sure he did. No one can take that away from him. But did he also like to sleep in bed with little boys? Yes. He admitted he did, and defended it. And I sure am sick and tired of hearing about his life and death in the news. Every time I see his name or picture and some asshole on tv or in person saying how tragic it is, my mind’s eye always goes to the kids he slept with. Why is everyone forgetting this part of who he was?

When I hear people extolling Michael’s virtues, and not mentioning his pedophilic tendencies, I can’t help but wonder about his victims, and how they are probably struggling every time they turn on the tv or some idiot at the grocery store says how sad it is. I wonder how sad it is for his victims?

We survivors are silenced every day by this sort of shit. Our molesters are people in the community, well-connected, and have you all convinced they are saints too. Just yesterday, some disgusting prick who works at Duke University made a deal with an undercover cop to sell his five year old son for sexual services. Thank goodness it was to an undercover copy, and the prick was arrested. My point is, anyone looking at him would have thought he was an upstanding citizen, he worked for Duke University, etc. But he wasn’t an upstanding citizen. He liked to rape little boys that he adopted.

Love Michael Jackson all you want. Just don’t forget that he was a man who defended sleeping with little boys.

Reason #106: Babysitter dream

Last night, I woke up from a dream about the babysitter. In the dream, she and my mother and I were in a fitting room. I was the same age I am now – 35 years old – and I had a swimsuit on. I saw her and I knew she was the babysitter. I felt pure fright to my very core. I said to my mom in a tiny little girl’s voice “Mama, I am afraid of her”. I was so scared I could hardly get the words out.

Then this woman started touching me. Mom didn’t help the situation at all. I screamed in pure fright, over and over and over again. If I had to explain that scream, I would say that it was like I was allowing myself to scream the way I imagine I wanted to scream when this babysitter was actually molesting me when I was a little girl. The scream and the dream would be the reason you shouldn’t fuck kids, of course.

Obviously this dream was scary for me to wake up from, and has been on my mind all day. In the dream, the woman looked 10 years older than me now, which would put her at about 45. In real life, I think she was about 10 years older than me in real life, which put her in her teen years when she molested my brother and I. I find it interesting that my dream happened as if I was meeting her now.

I wish I was meeting her now. I am not sure what I would say or how I would act, but I sure do wish I could meet her now. I wonder if I would regress and become a child inside again, the way so many survivors of child sexual abuse do when meeting their abusers again. Or, I wonder if I would stay in control of my adult faculties, and meet this woman and explain the tremendous impact that she has had on my life.

I spend a lot of my time hating this woman. It would be nice to get past that level of hatred.

Reason #105: A Great Sense of People
June 25, 2009, 12:47 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: , , ,

A female colleague and I have been getting harangued by a male colleague. He did something that everyone would consider to be wrong, and she believed him when he told her it was an accident. I did not. (By the way, his shit has nothing to do with child sexual abuse.)

Anyway, when I was talking to her about it, I said “Why do you think he is innocent?” She explained that when she found out about his shit, she confronted him, and he reacted with horror and shame and innocence. I said “How do you think he would act if he was guilty?”

I don’t mean to generalize, but really, even when child molesters are caught on camera (like in that ‘To Catch a Predator’ series), they STILL proclaim their innocence. They make a date with a 13 year old girl and bring condoms, and then say ‘I was just trying to watch over her in case the real predator comes along’. Yeah. YOU’RE the real predator, fucker, and we all know it.

I told my friend that I have been wary of this guy all along, and that he’s been doing other things that raise my suspicions. She said “You have a great sense of people. Very intuitive.” And there it was, hanging between us, with my unspoken reply of “Yes, I am. I have had to be. Getting fucked as a child really hones your intuitive sense about who is good and who is bad. One of the many reasons you shouldn’t fuck kids.”

I finally replied “I could be wrong about him, I suppose.” Pause. “But I’m not.”

Reason #104: Everyone’s a Predator

The huz and I ran some errands yesterday with our son. Our son is almost two years old. At one of the stores we were at, some guy took a real interest in our son. He got real close to him, and asked us his name, if he’s talking, what kinds of things he likes, etc. I wedged myself between him and my son because I immediately disliked him and his questions.

Later, when we were driving to another errand, I asked my husband what he thought of that freak in the store who talked to our son. My husband could tell what I thought of him from the way I had asked him the question, and he said “He’s probably harmless”. I said “Why? Because you want him to be?” He said “No, because I know the statistics. Most people are not out to harm our son.”

That statement gave me pause for thought. In my mind, most people are out to harm my son. The world is one big predator waiting for me to drop my guard so they can hurt him in some way. It is one of the many reasons I am constantly on guard when I am alone with my son. My husband, however, was raised in an idyllic place with a lovely childhood where he was safe all the time, and no one hurt him. His parents never even hit him because they don’t justify the use of violence with children. I imagine that if I grew up in such a safe world where no one ever fucked me, I might also have the luxury of thinking that the freak in the store was interested in my child because of some innocent reason. Instead, I grew up in an unsafe home and am consequently all too aware of the pedophilic tendencies of people in the general society.

My husband grew up in a safe home, and I did not. My husband’s body was always his own, and no one ever used it against his will, or took advantage of him in disgusting unscrupulous ways. My body was not my own with a babysitter, a brother, and a father.

My husband thinks no one is a predator, and I know that everyone is. This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.

Reason #103: My Father

My father doesn’t take no for an answer. While this doesn’t surprise me, I find all conversations with him to be upsetting. It’s like in every conversation we have to both repress the fact that he was a weird father who was violent and broke all the possible boundaries with my brother and I. He called me tonight.

When my parents’ marriage started going south, he started treating me like his emotional wife. He would want me to ask him how his day was, cook for him, etc. He had a wife (my mother), but she hated him. Now that I am an adult, I can see why. Anyway, the more I refused, the more he would push me. He kept asking me to hug him. I kept saying no. By the time I was 15, I had been refusing to hug him for a while. I can’t remember if it was a period of weeks or months. He kept asking and asking and demanding and demanding. I kept saying no and no and no and no. ‘No’ was never enough of a fucking answer for him for any question where he wanted the answer to be yes.

Now he says he wants to be closer to me. And again this is me saying no. Except now I live far away from him. On purpose. I am afraid of him. Very afraid of him.

He wants us to be closer, he told me tonight. I said “What does that mean to you?” He said “I’d like to come see you.” Me: “No.” He said “Do you think there will ever be a time when we will be closer?” Me: “No. I think we’re close enough right now.” Then I said “Dad, I didn’t talk to you for 15 years. Now we’re talking. That’s as close as I want to get. Maybe you can learn to live with what I am willing to give, and this is all that I am willing to give.”

And in this whole conversation, it was like we were ignoring the big elephant in the room.

The thing is, I have done the brave thing many times with him. I have told him in person in a therapist’s office why I am upset with him, exactly why I am upset with him. I have written him snail mail letters about it. I have written him e-mails about it. I have told him he violated me, and was violent with me. I have told him and told him and told him. He then chooses to forget about it and say shit like “I want to be closer to you”

Like I don’t want that? Like I wouldn’t rather have a normal father who I can be close to? I hear the words “Daddy’s girl” all the time, my whole life, and I have never understood what the fuck that means. Does it mean that these daughters and fathers are close the way that normal daughters and fathers are? I am pretty sure it means these fathers are in no way fucking their daughters and forcing a life of shit on them, which by the way is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.

I mean, he puts it on me, like it’s my ‘craziness’ that forces us to not be close. I’d like to be close too, but in order for that to happen, I would need him to be normal and not keep pushing for some definition of closeness that only appears in his sick dictionary. So I am forced to keep not only an emotional distance but also a physical one.

I am afraid of him, and no matter how many times I tell myself that I am an adult and he doesn’t have the kind of power he had over me as a child, I guess I don’t believe it.

Reason #102: Listening to music
June 17, 2009, 12:45 am
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: , , ,

Today the huz was home from work, so I wasn’t home alone for once. I cleaned a little bit and cooked a little bit, all the while listening to a CD of one of my favorite musicians. It was wonderful. As I sang along to one of the songs, I tried to think about the last time I had put on a CD when cooking or cleaning, or when doing anything. I couldn’t remember the last time.

I thought about it. I don’t like extraneous noise when I am home alone, because then I can’t hear if intruders are breaking into my home. G-d forbid.

I was trained at an Arts High School for singing, and I have been in choirs my whole life. Singing and music is one of the few things I am sure I am good at, but I can’t listen to music if I don’t feel safe, and I don’t feel safe if I am home alone.

Not being able to listen to music when I am home alone. That is the 102nd reason you shouldn’t fuck kids.

Reason 101: Lars and the Real Girl

Last night, my husband and I watched this movie “Lars and the Real Girl”. It was one of those truly beautiful movies that stay with you for a long time. In the movie, Lars buys one of those lifesize dolls and thinks that she is real. He takes her out everywhere, talks to her, and ‘hears’ her responses to him.

His brother and sister-in-law take him to the shrink, for obvious reasons. The shrink tells the brother that Lars is having a delusion, and that he needs to play along with it. The brother says “No. Everyone will laugh at him.” The shrink agrees with him and tells him that he has to play along anyway. She tells him that even if he doesn’t play along, Lars will not be swayed from his delusion.

The brother has a hard time with it, but he plays along. The sister-in-law not only plays along too, but also tells her friends and church community to play along. Lars brings the doll to church and to parties, and everyone plays along. Everyone treats his illness as real, and treats his doll with a great deal of respect. Truly, it was so beautiful. The whole community was rallying behind Lars and showing him such support because they wanted him to get well. It was such a beautiful way of supporting a mentally ill person.

Can you imagine what would happen if we survivors of incest and child sexual abuse were publicly acknowledged in such a fashion? If our friends and family and church, etc, let us be survivors? Can you imagine how quickly we would be healed if everyone acknowledged the wrongness of what happened to us and took a part in our healing process? Instead, most of us face disbelieving families and non-supportive communities that make us worse. And so we never really heal from wounds inflicted upon us as children. This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.

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