Reasons You Shouldn’t Fuck Kids


Reason #313: Pyrrhic Victories

Last night, my ex’s little sister got married. My ex and I went to the wedding.  I went because I love my sister-in-law, and I wanted to support her.  At some point, everyone was called to the dance floor.  I watched all the couples on the dance floor, slow dancing and enjoying themselves.

My ex and I had previously agreed that we would not dance together at the wedding. It would be too painful for me to dance with her at this point, as it would only be a reminder of what I used to have, what I’ve lost. We were seated with a gay male couple, and they were too self-conscious to dance.  The member of the couple sitting next to me said “If you guys dance, we will too.”  While I wanted them to dance, I said no.

We left the wedding early. We got home, and I began to cry. My ex held me as I cried. I said “I think it’s awesome that we’ve been able to weather all this, and still be such great friends, and go to these things together.  But it’s just so painful! The whole thing is a reminder of what we’ve lost.”

She said “It’s true. It’s great that we’ve come this far, but it’s a Pyrrhic victory.”

I looked at her quizzically, and she said “Pyrrhus was a Commander in the Greek Army, and he fought a very hard battle against the Romans. While it was great that he was able to win such a hard battle, he lost nearly everything trying to win.  So now when a battle like that is fought and won, it’s called a Pyrrhic victory.”

Interesting, because this is not the first time the Greeks/Romans thing has come up in this blog.

Surviving child sexual abuse can feel like a Pyrrhic victory sometimes. Of course it’s wonderful that we survived. Many times in this battle, we weren’t sure if we could survive it or if we would survive it.  So every day that we are alive, it is of course a victory.  But my G-d, when I think of all that has been lost in the name of this survival – it brings tears to my eyes.

It took me 30 years to trust a man, and 31 years to fuck one consensually.  The sex abuse has determined almost every aspect of my life since the day I began surviving it. Am I glad I survived? Of course I am. But at what cost?

For example, from reason #206, where I discussed how my sex abuse was fucking up my husband’s choice of jobs: “I have already written before about how the abuse has fucked me, my mom, my job, my choice of life partners, and my partner himself.  Now we know it fucks our partners’ jobs too.”

That’s why you shouldn’t fuck kids. For Pyrrhus.




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