Reasons You Shouldn’t Fuck Kids


Reason #257: It Takes Time to Learn My Power

Another ant appeared in our hallway.  I was immediately afraid, and then I remembered that I have power over the ant.  I remembered what the therapist said about how from now on I will always think about ants differently.  I want that to be true so badly that I keep reminding myself that she said that about me.  I keep telling myself that if I find an ant in my room, or if one crawls on me while I sleep (G-d forbid), I will just kill it. 

I fell asleep and within an hour, I woke up in a panic.  I thought an ant was on my bed.  I breathed heavy, checked my surroundings, and calmed down.  I reminded myself of my power.  There was no ant on my bed; it was my own panic manifesting itself in the middle of the night.  Middle of the night stuff is one of the hard parts of surviving child sexual abuse.

Fear is a learned thing, just like hatred.  Babies aren’t born fearing the ants.  Babies aren’t born with hatred in their heart.  Those things have to be taught to them.

I was thinking last night about a time when I was five years old.  I remember PLAYING with the ants.  Playing with them.  Can you believe that?  There was a time when I was so unafraid of bugs that I played with them.  I wasn’t afraid of them and I didn’t have to learn to have power over them.  I played with them.

That was my life before the babysitter.  After she did those things to my brother and I, we were both afraid of the world around us, of the dark, of being alone.  We both had trouble sleeping after that, and we were both afraid of being anywhere our mom was not.

It’s been over 30 years since she hurt my brother and I.  We’ve both had suicidality, panic disorder, been in gay relationships when neither of us identify ourselves as gay, and we both are afraid of intimacy.  And I entered into a marriage (that ultimately failed) with someone because he never pushed me about sex.

And I am afraid of ants.  But I am learning to have courage in the face of this fear.  I am learning about my own power in this situation, and I am learning to use it.  It is taking me some time to learn my power in this situation.  That is why you shouldn’t fuck kids. Because if I hadn’t experienced powerlessness in a terrible situation, maybe I would still be playing with the ants instead of using great courage in plotting to kill them.



Reason #256: Hiding behind sunglasses
August 23, 2011, 12:34 pm
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Ever since the complete and utter failure of my marriage, I have spent a lot of time crying.  I cry a lot while driving.  Probably not the safest thing in the world, but I can’t help it.  It’s the only time when I do not have anything else to distract myself with, so I end up alone with my thoughts.  And these thoughts make me cry.

I wear sunglasses so that the other drivers don’t see me cry.  Is that weird?  I’m not sure.

I used to cry solely from the effects and memories of being abused.  Now I cry from that and my failed marriage.  All while hiding behind sunglasses.

One of the things that survivors of child sexual abuse innately learn is that no one is interested in seeing their tears or hearing them cry.  If they were interested in that, they wouldn’t have left us in situations where we were so easily abused.  Plus, most of the time when we cry about it afterwards, people don’t get it, and we quickly learn to hide our tears.

“What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? The world would split open.”  – Muriel Rukeyser

 



Reason #255: The Opportunity to be Courageous

For some reason, I have been watching that movie “Evan Almighty” over and over again in the last few months.  The movie is a re-telling of the story of Noah and the Ark. My life is in such a state of upheaval, and I think the idea of G-d telling someone directly to do something, and him doing this enormous thing even though everyone thinks he’s nuts is very appealing to me.  In the movie, G-d says to Noah’s wife: “When someone prays for courage, does G-d give them courage, or does He give them the opportunity to be courageous?”

As you know, an ant has plagued me for a whole year, and a few weeks ago I took my power back from that fucking ant.  I made the decision that even if there were live ants in my room, I was going to sleep in my own bed and that fucking ant was not going to stop me!  I told my therapist about my courage with the ant.  I asked her if this courage was temporary or if the ant would scare me again.  She told me that now that I have found my power and courage with the ant, that I would always look at ants differently from here on out.  I changed my thought process from “This ant will touch me without my permission” to “It is an ant.  If it crawls on me, I will kill it.”  

G-d gave me the opportunity to be courageous.  It took me a year of fear, terrible pain, and the loss of my marriage to act on it, but I finally did.  To other people who hear that an ant took a year of my life, they would probably think I am fucking nuts.  Maybe I am fucking nuts, who knows. 

The therapist says it was never about the ant, it was about what the ant represented.  The ant represented touching me without my permission; touching me by surprise, without my permission. 

I feel like the fact that I have changed my thought process from “I am afraid the ant will touch me without my permission” to “It’s an ant.  If it crawls on me, I will kill it” means that I have given my answer to the permission question.  The answer is no.  The answer has always been no.  You may not touch me without my permission.  It’s my body.  Mine.  Not yours.  I say no.  I get to say no.  I have said NO. No.

I understand that at less than five years old I didn’t have that power over that babysitter.  I didn’t have the power of No, but I have it now with the ant, and I am using it.



Reason #254: Magneto: Hurt people hurt people
August 9, 2011, 1:09 am
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Recently, I went to see the X-Men movie in the theaters.  The movie was about how the X-Men came to be the X-Men.  For those that don’t know, the X-Men are all people with mutant genes that give them special powers.

In the movie, we got to see the history of Magneto (the mutant who can bend steel at will).  He is considered ‘bad’ because he harbors a deep hatred for non-mutants, and tries to hurt or kill them at every opportunity.  The movie showed us how he got that way.  We see him first as a child being dragged away from his parents in a concentration camp in the Holocaust.  Then, at the concentration camp, he watched his mother getting killed in front of him.  After that, he hated non-mutant human beings, because they had caused him such terrible pain.

The whole story made me think of something that Dr. Sandra Bloom (a trauma expert) says: “Hurt people hurt people.”

I wonder who hurt the babysitter that fucked my brother and I.  Of all of us who got fucked in childhood, only a small percentage of us go on to actually sexually abuse kids.  Most of us hurt ourselves.  Of course, if we consider ourselves to be ‘people’, then the axiom of “hurt people hurt people” still rings true.



Reason #253: Power over an ant
August 1, 2011, 1:05 pm
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So, as my regular readers know, last week the fucking ants made a reappearance in my house.  I, of course, couldn’t take it, so I made an appointment for the exterminator to come over (he knows us by name; I am pretty sure we have funded his last five vacations single-handedly).  Also though, I asked the huz/wife to sleep in my bed with me until after the exterminator came.

So, the huz/wife slept with me in the same bed.  It was so uncomfortable.  You’d never know we had previously been pretty happily married for almost 7 years.  I could feel him not wanting to be there in bed with me, and it stressed me so much.  I tried to talk to him about it, and he said that trying to live in this body that doesn’t feel like his is so stressful, and the idea of trying to do that with someone else in the bed with him is more stressful. I guess that’s true, but I sure felt rejected from the whole experience. From the stress of trying to sleep together, I developed some sort of pain in my neck that is still with me today.

The pain in my neck got so bad that I ended up going to the doctor – I thought maybe I had some sort of infection in my ear that was radiating down my neck.  She told me to  take ibuprofen every 3 hours, which is what I had to do because the pain was so bad.  Finally on Thursday, the exterminator came.  I had the huz sleep with me on Thursday and Friday night though, as a just in case measure.  The pain in my neck is still with me today, but not nearly as bad as it was.  I didn’t need to take ibuprofen last night or this morning.

On Saturday though, I slept by myself again.  And honestly, it was WONDERFUL!  Isn’t that surprising?  I realized that I enjoyed having the bed to myself, the room to myself, the TV to myself.  I enjoyed my nightly solitude!  Can you believe that??  The room feels like mine, and given my life circumstances, it’s frankly one of the nicer rooms I have lived in in my life. 

So then last night, just as the ex and I were saying goodnight to each other, I noticed a black wriggling ant on the floor of my room.  It was still alive.  WHAT THE FUCK.  How could this be?  Why every time that I feel safe does this happen??? 

The huz picked it up with his bare hands, killed it, and then compassionately asked me if I wanted him to sleep with me.  It took me a long time to answer.  The thing is, my neck had been hurting so bad from trying to sleep with someone who didn’t want to sleep with me, and we had been doing that for almost the whole week.  And I had enjoyed my Saturday night to myself.  And it seemed like this newest ant, while frightening to me, was actually dying (hopefully).  So I thought long and hard, and finally I said “No.  But please sit with me for a minute here while I get used to this, ok?”

The more I thought about it, the more angry I got at that ant.  Look how much sleep over this past year that fucking ant has cost me.  Look how much peace that ant has cost me.  And as I thought about it and got more and more angry about it, I thought “No.  FUCK THAT.”  I had already given that ant way too much power, for way too long, and I was not going to let it ruin yet another night.

I took my power back from that ant.  I took it the fuck back. 

That ant should have never had that kind of power over me in the first place, which is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.  Because I am 37 and it took enormous courage and a year of hard work and a husband who turned into a wife and an impending divorce and too many nights of uncomfortable sleep and a terrible pain in my neck and a shitload of crying for me to take my power back from a little fucking ant.  That’s why you shouldn’t fuck kids.  But G-ddammit, I took my power back from that ant for one night.  And please G-d, give me courage to never give it back to that ant again.




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