Reasons You Shouldn’t Fuck Kids


Reason #148: Arguing with the therapist
January 25, 2010, 1:37 am
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So, this week the huz and I went to our marital therapist’s office, and it came up in conversation that our son’s crib is still in our bedroom.  The therapist’s reaction was so visceral.  She was like “He has to be in his own room!”  And I said “Why?”  She said “Well, you’re not having any sex.”  I said “Well, we weren’t having any before he was conceived either.”  (Seriously folks, when we knew we wanted a baby, we made a concerted effort to have sex 3 times, and thank goodness, one of those times was successful.) 

Her reaction made me feel ashamed though.  The thing is, we were ready to move him to his own room a long time ago.  But he would scream and cry for hours, and I just didn’t feel right about it.  I remember all too well what it was like to cry myself to sleep, and I don’t want my son to have that memory too.  Plus, I think we all know how I feel about cry-it-out bullshit.

You know, in the wild, no sane animal puts her young out to sleep far away from her.  I have seen enough human animals in my lifetime to understand why this is so.

Anyway though, that argument with the therapist made me feel weird.  I am not ready to give up on her yet, but now I need to find my balls and talk to her about it when we go back to her this week.  I felt judged, and it made me feel vulnerable because she knows my sex abuse history.  This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.



Reason #147: Horseshit
January 22, 2010, 4:29 pm
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A psychologist (Susan Clancy) has written a new book called “The Trauma Myth”, and the title alone should tell you how she feels about survivors of child sexual abuse.  I am not linking to it, because I don’t need her getting any more sales off this book from my blog.  Anyway, she argues that it is not the molestation that bothers us, it’s the fact that all the adults in our life and the media told us that getting molested was bad.  See, we are stupid naive young children, and were it not for the fact that we were sent the message that it was wrong, afterwards, we’d all be okay with our bodies being used against our will, provided there was no violence involved. 

This is yet another version of the rape myth, and Alfred Kinsey (the famed sex researcher) originally posed this shit about child sex abuse as well.  I am using this blog to respectfully call this mindset a bunch of horseshit. 

The problem with Susan Clancy’s (and Alfred Kinsey’s) logic is that it doesn’t take into account several things:

1) The child has negative feelings during the abuse.

2) The child tries to dissociate from the abuse by concentrating on something else, since she is entirely powerless to someone else using her body.

3) Many times, no one in the child’s life is denouncing the act afterwards, and instead they tell her to just shut the fuck up because it really isn’t so bad.

Harvard (of which Susan Clancy is a graduate) is constantly putting this kind of horseshit into the forefront, and because it’s Harvard, people are all “Wow, that’s so smart, I never thought of it that way.”  They hold onto this shit because again, it is much easier to believe that kids aren’t so fucked up by abuse.  And yet, I have now written 147 reasons that being a survivor has fucked me up, fucked my marriage up, fucked my life up.  Harvard would argue it’s because I came to find out later that what happened to me was bad.  I would argue that that is a bunch of horseshit, and that I was afraid from the moment it all started with the babysitter, and that I was never the same again.  Everyone became a potential predator from the moment that babysitter touched me, and everyone in my family noticed the stark difference in me at the tender young age of less than five years old.  This is, of course, why shouldn’t fuck kids.

It always comes down to the same shit.  You either believe us or you don’t.  You can’t say on one hand that child sexual abuse is bad, and then in the same book say that the effects of it are not as real as we think they are.  You are either on the right side of this war or the wrong side, and this book, unfortunately, is going to be touted for years to come by people who want to believe that is is okay to fuck kids.



Reason #146: The Color Purple
January 20, 2010, 5:30 pm
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Have you ever seen the movie “The Color Purple”?  The book is wonderful, and so is the movie.  This woman, Celie, has her sister cruelly taken away from her by her shithead of a husband.  When Celie confronts her husband about it, she says “She was the only somebody who loved me.” 

We survivors of sexual abuse hold onto the littlest bits of love that you are willing to give us, and we treat these little bits as though they are mountains of gold.  It kind of reminds me of a song lyric from a song by the Goo Goo dolls that says “And the least they ever gave you, was the most you ever knew”.

My ex-girlfriend got in touch with me recently.  I was thrilled to hear from her, as it felt like she had fallen off the face of the earth.  I had been searching for her for years, and it looks like she was searching for me too.

When I made the decision to get involved with her, I knew she was a survivor of incest and child sexual abuse, like me.  I thought of us as two survivors who fell in love.   For a long time, it felt like she was the only somebody who loved me.  I was wrong, but at the time I thought I was right. This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.



Reason #145: Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman

I was watching this episode of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman (on TiVo), where this guy raped a teenaged child, and murdered an elderly woman’s husband.  They had a trial, and he was pronounced guilty, and it was decided that he would hang for it.  All the townspeople got pretty excited about it, and pronounced “Ladies and Gents, we have ourselves a hangin’!”

My first thought was how beautiful it was that the whole town rallied around this girl to support her, and to support the death of her rapist.  Can  you imagine how much quicker all of us would heal if all of our friends and neighbors supported us and believed us like this?  In real life, children are raped every day, and whole towns of people call us liars or whores.  

I thought about the public hanging option, and I thought about it in terms of my three abusers. 

I thought about my brother.  He was a child when he started molesting me.  If I was somewhere between 6 and 8, that would have made him somewhere between 8 and 10.  Should he hang for what he did?  I mean, he said he was sorry and I believe he truly is.  No, better not to hang him. 

Then I thought about my father.  He’ll never be able to admit what he’s done.  But we are healing.  Or at least we are trying to.  I don’t particularly want him hung either. 

Then I thought about the babysitter, whose hurts against me are so bad I couldn’t even type “my babysitter”, lest she be even more intricately involved with me than she already was.  She needs to be “the” babysitter, not “mine”.  My immediate thought, filled with revenge and hatred was “Fuck yes, hang her”.  But the truth is, I don’t know her well enough to pronounce this declaration of death on her yet.  Who is she?  Were we the only ones?  Did she fuck other children before/after us?  Is she still raping children?  Has she turned her life around, asked forgiveness, done healing work with those she has wronged?  I want to believe yes.  Maybe she was just a scared confused teen whose father or stepfather or whoever was fucking her.  Most probably this is the case.  Still though, it is quite a decision to go from victim to victimizer, no?

And these are all the thoughts I have running through my head as tears seep from my eyes while watching an episode of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman on TiVo.  This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.



Reason #144: I trusted them too
January 12, 2010, 1:45 am
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I was sitting in our marital therapist’s office today, because today was my alone session.  She asked me to picture my panic when I am panicked with my husband.  I have written about these sorts of panics many times here on this blog (for instance, see Reason #114).  Anyway, she asked me to picture it.  She said “Does it feel real to you?”  I started to cry.  Yes, it felt real.  Too fucking real, so I started to cry.

She asked what was happening inside for me that was making me cry.  She said “What about the situation with your husband makes you panicked and makes you question whether or not he’s a serial killer, or anything else bad?”

I said “I had three abusers.  I trusted them too.  They weren’t supposed to hurt me either, and yet they did, and I was surprised by it.  And I don’t want to be surprised by my husband’s betrayal too.  So I keep guarding myself against a betrayal from him.”

I keep my guard up, and that way at least I won’t be surprised by it when it happens.

Constantly on guard with my sweet husband.  This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.



Reason #143: I lay awake at night

I was talking to one of my best friends yesterday, and she told me a truly terrible story about an acquaintance of ours getting gang-raped while out walking her dog. Consequently, last night I could not get safe. I just laid there awake and scared, waiting for the intruder in our home to show himself. Of course, there was no intruder in our home. Thank G-d.

As I lay there, however, I truly believed he was there. And I kept waiting. And in between my hypervigilant waits, I asked the huz about 300 times how he checked the closet. I made him explain to me exactly how he did it. Did he see to the wall, the other wall, the back wall? Someone could be hiding in those dark spaces. He explained exactly how he did it, and I was just starting to calm down when he said “No one could possibly hide in there”. After he said that, I stopped listening to him altogether. If he doesn’t believe that anyone can fit in there, then he is not really looking for anyone in there. And thus, someone can be hiding in there.

I am getting real tired of hearing people say things about how “no one can possibly”.  Someone already did these things, so we know for sure that “they can possibly”.  Three people did it to me, as a matter of fact.  They didn’t hide in closets, but they certainly did catch me unawares.  And now I lay awake at night, super-aware of every noise and all the deafening silence as well.  This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.




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