Reasons You Shouldn’t Fuck Kids


Reason 318: Distorted World View

So I had that meeting with the boy that I have a crush on. I am fairly certain he doesn’t like me back, but it just feels so good to like someone, to have good feelings in my head, to have someone to think about so that I don’t think about my own weird life, that I don’t care.  Plus, even if he did like me, I think he wouldn’t act on it.  He mentioned in our meeting that I was the ‘rockstar’ of our department and that they all looked up to me. I was of course flattered, but it also gave me the impression that he wasn’t going to fuck around with me.  Once you put someone on a pedestal, you don’t really want to fuck them.

I told my ex that I think that the boy at work doesn’t like me.  She said that it’s impossible to tell about something like that in a work situation. She said that it is difficult for people to act on stuff like that because they get scared in a ‘don’t shit where you eat’ kind of way.  I agree with that truth.

But there’s also this truth: If a boy wants you, he wants you.  He will do things to be near you, to spend time with you, to talk to you, to breathe the air you breathe, etc. My mantra has always been that you should never have to chase a boy, and if you do have to chase a boy, he doesn’t want you. The most I ever get from him are fairly terse e-mails that get right down to business.

Of course, I’ve spent most of my life running away from every boy that has ever shown me the least bit of attention, so what the fuck do I know.  I finally married my husband when I was 31 because he was the first one willing to wait through my long-ass timeline for having sex (which ended up happening after 2 years of dating and many false starts along the way). That right there is why you shouldn’t fuck kids. I was almost 31 when I lost my fucking virginity. I tried so many times to let down my guard and have sex, and I just never could until my husband and I tried for like the tenth time during our courtship. Now I know that probably the reason he was so patient is because he wasn’t all that keen on fucking me in his male body, since he felt like a she inside. Now she is a she on the inside and the outside, and honestly, I think she wants to fuck boys now, not girls anymore. So there’s that.

I suppose the pathetic truth is that if this boy – the one I like at work – did show me attention, I would run away.  Once he tried to hug me at a work party we both were at, and I stiffened and only half hugged him.  It was weird between us and I just wasn’t expecting him to hug me, but he probably saw me hugging all my girl friends, so he figured I would be cool with hugging him too.  I was of course thrilled inside to be near him and hugging him, and thrilled he wanted to hug me, but I was so unsure how to be near a boy or hug a boy that I fucked the whole thing up and now I am sure he thinks I am that weird girl who got weirded out when he tried to hug me.

I asked my therapist if him hugging me meant that he is a rapist. I had already asked my ex if that is what it meant as well. Every time I ask that question, I can feel the energy shift around me. I can feel her feeling bad for me. I can feel them thinking: ‘Poor sick butterfly thinks every man is a rapist because of the males that have already used her body against her will.’ And even though I understand intellectually that every man is not a rapist, and that this new boy hugging me may not mean he is a rapist, it’s not enough to stop me from playing out the scenario in my head constantly. In my head, he is hugging me to gauge my reaction. He wants to see how much he can get away with in public so he can know how much he can get away with in private.

This kind of thought process – where a person believes that because one person hurt her then that means that all people will hurt her – this is called ‘distorted world view’. That is what I have now, distorted world view.  Because three people molested me when I was a kid, I am now mistrustful of the entire world, as if everyone is out to hurt me. The therapist keeps trying to counteract this thought process with me by having me think about some men I know that are good men (read: men that won’t rape anyone).

I want to like a boy and have that be all there is.  No sex abuse past, no rape future, no constant worrying about letting someone in only to hurt me or my kid. But no matter how hard I try, my relationship with males will always be fraught with the possibility of danger. My introduction to sexual stuff was traumatic and against my will, so as much as I want to just like a boy and have that be all there is, that just isn’t my life right now. But maybe it can be my world in the future. Maybe with this therapist I will be able to get to place of healing where my future won’t have to look like my past.

 



Reason #309: The obesity problem in society

I would like to lose weight.  I am unhappy at the weight I am at. The problem is that whenever I have lost weight in the past, I get to a certain point and no matter what I do, I can’t lose any more weight (even though I would be considered fat at that weight on any doctor’s scale).

Two years ago, I began The Sugar Addicts Recovery Program.  Kathleen DesMaisons feels that if you eat enough protein in the morning, you won’t have as many cravings through the day.  I think she is right, so I have been doing that ever since.  Then about a year ago, I found the Jon Gabriel Method. He explains that if you are anything more than 10 lbs overweight, it is because you do not feel safe losing the weight.  He says that as long as you don’t feel safe, your body will never release its hold on the weight because your body simply doesn’t want to be thin.

I couldn’t agree with him more. I have always known that my fatness was about safety.  I didn’t start gaining weight till my brother began molesting me. As an adult, every time I have tried to lose weight, I have mostly failed.  A thinner body is a smaller body.  When I was in a small body as a child, three people used my smallness to their sexual advantage.  They used my body for their sexual pleasure, and enjoyed their power over me.  When I think about being in a thinner body now, I equate it with smallness.  Smallness hasn’t worked out well for me in the past.  These thoughts and anxieties have thwarted many attempts to lose weight, and eventually my subconscious overtakes me, and I have put on more weight than I have lost in diets.

This, of course, is why you shouldn’t fuck kids. You don’t like the obesity problem in America?  Stop fucking kids.  I was once at a conference on incest, and I swear to G-d, every single one of us (and I’m talking hundreds of people) was overweight.  Some of us were massively overweight.  We have all cleverly figured out that weight is a good shield, a good measure of insulation that keeps people far the fuck away from us. And honestly, this has worked pretty well for me so far.  Somehow when I reach a certain weight, I become invisible to men. This weight has kept me safe.

But the truth is that my adult self is unhappy with this weight now.  I don’t feel protected by it so much anymore. Instead, I feel hampered by it. I feel like my weight is holding me back from being my best self.

As you know from my last post, this year is my year of trying to empower myself. I have spent a lot of time working through this issue in therapy, and listening to Jon Gabriel’s visualizations.  And today I had such a lovely thought.  I tried to imagine myself in a thinner body.  And immediately my mind did its usual thing where thinness=smallness=me getting violated again. But today I changed the ending of that thought. The violator still tries to violate me, but in my thinner smaller body, I am confident and fit.  I am strong and I have a good relationship with my body.  My body and I work together and I fight my would-be violator, and I KICK HIS FUCKING ASS.

He will think twice before ever fucking with me again.



Reason #308: Good coming from evil

My mom called today, and she said “You know, I was thinking about your situation with the babysitter, and it’s such a case of good coming from evil.”

I said “How do you mean?”

She said, “Well look how much she hurt you.  Look how that has fueled your passion about child sexual abuse.  You’re doing so much good on behalf of survivors, and I think that never would have happened were it not for that babysitter.”

I think that when bad things happen to good people, we all want to make meaning of it.  I think that making meaning of tragedy or evil is a human way of processing terrible things. But I really do think that good can come from bad, and maybe that is me trying to make meaning of the babysitter, my brother, and my father all using my body against my will.

I think I am passionate about survivors’ voices being heard because of my own painful experiences. At the same time – all of this comes at quite a fucking cost.  It’s true that trauma survivors are much more empathetic to pain because we know what that pain feels like, but the problem is that no one is home with us at night to see what is really happening, so the whole thing seems so seamless.

Can good come from bad? Yes. But generally it means ‘good for society’ but still ‘bad for me’.

I write a blog in secret that details every new time my child abuse history interferes with my adult life. It’s good for society because it breaks the secret, continually.  Generally speaking, I am very empathetic to anyone else’s pain, which is also probably good for society. However, I am still afraid to leave my house, and my nights are punctuated from beginning to end with fear. Even though good has come from bad, I’m still fucked up.  That’s why you shouldn’t fuck kids.



Reason #302: My Son Started School

My son started school last week.  I cried my way through most of the week.  Lots of mothers get fucked up when their child first enters the school system, so this in itself would not be a reason not to fuck kids.  For me though, the whole thing brought me to my knees.

All I could think was ‘I couldn’t keep me safe, and now that he’s at school, I can’t keep him safe either.’  And then I cry and pray and cry and pray. Tears and prayer are what you do when you have nothing else you can humanly do.

The whole thing seems unsafe to me.  The school bus, the school building, the teachers, the bigger kids.  And then there’s my sweet beautiful son, who is so innocent and sensitive.

I have no memory, but I would have had to have been his age or younger when the babysitter fucked my brother and I.  I have no memory of being five, or of kindergarten.  I realized that yesterday, that I have no memory of kindergarten.  Nothing in my mind about the teachers, the school, nothing, nothing but a big black hole where the memories of life should be.  Isn’t that rather odd? I asked my ex if she had any memory of kindergarten, and she said yes.  Not only kindergarten but nursery school too.

I once read a study that found that adults that have survived child sexual abuse tend to lose big chunks of their autobiographical memory.  I wonder if those adults are actually kids like me who have no memory of the abuse and thus big black holes in their memory of everything else during that time period?  Or are there adults who remember the abuse but still have the big black holes in their memory about everything else?

My sweet beautiful son is now out there in the world. I feel like he is alone out there, and when I was left alone, a babysitter came into our home and raped my brother and I. And I’ve been fucked up ever since, and so has my brother.  And then he fucked me too, because that’s what he’d been taught by that horrible person.

I keep telling myself that it is okay for children to go to school, that they have to go to school, that this will be a growth opportunity for him.  My ex told me how much she loved kindergarten. I swear to G-d, I had no idea what the fuck she was talking about.  “How could you have loved it??  It was school!” I said.  She said she loved it.  My memory begins at age 6, and where I grew up, it was a city environment, and the teachers yelled at us a lot.  I saw one teacher pull childrens’ hair a lot too.  My grade school felt inherently unsafe to me, probably because I had already been unsafe in the world.

I pray about my son and his school sometimes, but I feel that prayer is useless in this situation.  How can I ask G-d to protect my son when He couldn’t even protect me? It seems to me that G-d doesn’t intervene in things like this. He will hold your hand through it and through the healing process, but He will not step in and stop you from being abused.  I don’t understand that, but in order to keep surviving, I tell myself that the pain that came with surviving was all part of my life journey.  I tell myself that it fueled my growth. I don’t want my son to grow like that.

I don’t understand what G-d is thinking.  I mean, yeah, a lot of growth happens in painful times. But shit, a lot of growth happens in loving, nurturing times too. Why did You let me get hurt like that?  Why did You let her hurt me like that?

And now I am supposed to just put my son out there on a bus, in a school, in the world, as if it doesn’t scare the shit out of me?  Am I supposed to trust the world to take care of him and keep him safe when it couldn’t do that for me?

This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.  Because we grow up and have kids, and the already-painful first day of school brings with it a layer of terror.

 



Reason #222: Against my will

I told the therapist that I don’t feel like I will ever heal from the babysitter’s abuse unless I actually remember it.  I mean, come on, how can you heal from what you don’t remember?

She said that somewhere inside me I do remember it, but it might not be the kind of memory that I am considering ‘real’.  She said my body obviously remembers the trauma, and I might remember it in some sort of pre-verbal stage.  This would explain why I’ve been afraid all these years, why I put the covers over my head at night years before my brother ever touched me.  Why the night terrifies me.

I told her I have to remember it.  I need to know the details.

She said “You don’t need to know the details in order to heal.  You know everything you need to know already.”

I said “How do you mean?”

She said “Here’s what you know.  Something bad happened to you against your will when you were a child.”

That gave me pause for thought.  In a way, she is right.  This quest for memory is not helping me heal, and if I could heal just knowing what I already know, then that would certainly be the *right* path, right?  The quest for memory may also be fruitless, as my memory may never return.  I may never feel safe enough to regain what has been lost, in terms of my memory of what she did to me, to us.

I might never feel safe either way. That is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.  May we all find our safety and heal from our wounds.



Reason #2: We Have a Hard Time with Sex
September 6, 2008, 8:04 pm
Filed under: brother | Tags: ,

It’s hard to want to fuck, even consensually, when you can’t let your husband touch your genitals, because having your genitals touched feels like it did when your brother touched your genitals when you didn’t want him to. It’s hard to fuck my husband, because even though he is wonderful, my brother wasn’t. And when I get horny, and my husband and I start to touch each other, sometimes I can’t remember who is in bed with me, my brother or my husband.

When I was a little girl, my brother molested me on our living room couch. I used to pretend I was the wall. I would look away, and I was the wall, and this wasn’t happening. He wasn’t touching me there or licking me there. And I wasn’t there either, because I was the wall.

Sex eludes me. As I understand it, some survivors turn nun-like, like I did, and some survivors fuck everything. Some survivors fuck everyone, because fucking strangers feels easier than being made to fuck your brother or step-father or whoever fucked you before you were old enough to consent to it. This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids; it fucks with our sexuality, and fucks us for the rest of our life. No matter how old I am, I will always be the little girl who didn’t want her brother touching her there.



Reasons Why You Shouldn’t Fuck Kids
September 6, 2008, 7:58 pm
Filed under: babysitter, brother, father, fear, survivor, trust, Uncategorized | Tags: , ,

Before you get all fucked up, let me explain. I am a survivor of child sexual abuse, and over the years, it has occurred to me that surviving the abuse has had an enormous effect on my life and the way I live it. So, through the years, every time I do something fucked up, or react in a fucked up sort of way, I think to myself, “See? This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.” Because if someone hadn’t fucked with me as a kid, then I wouldn’t have so many fucked up negative consequences.

DISCLAIMER: Let me state for the record – this blog is AGAINST the fucking of children. This whole blog is about why you SHOULD NEVER FUCK CHILDREN. If you are currently fucking kids in any way, shape, or form, and I find out about it, I will report you to the proper authorities. This blog hopefully will explain to you why this is a bad idea, and why if you are doing such a thing, you should stop. And if you can’t stop, then you should be locked away in a safe place until such time as you are able to stop.

Back to our regularly scheduled shit. Some of the posts will be funny, some will be heartbreaking, and some will make you say “fuck, that’s bad”. Also, I speak as “We”, meaning all of us survivors of child sexual abuse. But I really can’t speak for everyone. If you are reading this and you are a survivor, and your shit differs from mine, I apologize for speaking for you. And if your shit is the same, then know that you are not alone.




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