Reasons You Shouldn’t Fuck Kids

Reason #231: It Can’t Ever Be Like That
March 31, 2011, 12:11 pm
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My friend was talking about going to see her father, playing golf with him.  She was saying how much she enjoys being with him.

I said ‘Wow.  It must be  amazing to have such a relationship with him where you just naturally trust him and actually want to spend time with him.  I have never had that with my dad, and I honestly have no idea what that is like.”

She said, with deep understanding “Butterfly, it can’t ever be like that with your dad.  Your trust was broken in an irreparable way with him.”

That’s why you shouldn’t fuck kids.

Reason #174: Rape Dreams on Mother’s Day
May 11, 2010, 12:18 am
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Saturday night into Sunday, I dreamed that I was in my home and couldn’t figure out how to get the dogs in or out.  I knew I was in danger, but couldn’t figure out how.  A woman appeared with a friendly smile, but something about her made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.  I immediately didn’t trust her, and tried to hit her with a baseball bat.  That’s when her male friend came in and began raping me.

I woke up from this dream, and my husband said “Good Morning!  Happy Mother’s Day!  How did you sleep?”

This is not my first rape dream, or even my secondNot my tenth, not even my hundredth.  This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.  We have dreams where we are being violated, because we know what it is to have our body and soul violated.  The bad dreams don’t stop just because it is a holiday or a special occasion, or because you have a sweet husband laying beside you. 

One of the things I struggle with in this blog is whether I should post the same issue twice.  For instance, I have posted before about bad dreams and how they plague us survivors.  Part of me feels that each reason should be a completely new reason so that no asshole can invalidate what we survivors are going through by saying “No, you really only have 173 reasons not to fuck kids, not 174, because one of them is a double.”  The other part of me feels that these reasons aren’t like baseball cards, where a ‘double’ is suddenly invalidated because you happened to have that card already.  Each rape dream is a reason you shouldn’t fuck kids, because each one is one I wouldn’t have had if that babysitter hadn’t done this to us first.  Each time I have a panic attack when my husband and I are in the middle of kissing is a new reason you shouldn’t fuck kids.

But I will ask you guys – what do you think?  Should each reason be a completely new one?

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 # 114: Trusting my husband of five years

The other night, my husband told me that when he was a child he had a pet goldfish who died and he made a tomb for it the way the Egyptians used to. I deduced from this information that he was, in fact, a serial killer. Here’s how I decided this: He’s generally very nice to me, and serial killers tend to have these double lives where their wives never know that they are out killing people. Yup, that’s how I got there.

So, when the time came for us to go to bed together that night, I wouldn’t let him in the bed. I made him stand by the light, and explain to me exactly why I should believe that he is not, in fact, a serial killer.

We have been married for five years and together for seven, but apparently that is not enough for me to trust him. When we were dating, he used to joke that we’d be eighty years old and still having this problem. I thought it was funny then, but now that this serial killer shit has happened, I am not sure it’s a joke anymore.

So, he stood there under the light for a half hour late at night explaining to me that he is not a serial killer, that I know where he is all the time, that I have known him for seven years and he’s never given me a reason to doubt him, that he doesn’t even kill bugs except when I ask him to, etc. I think it was that last part that finally convinced me. He really doesn’t like to kill things, and I imagine that if one is a serial killer, they derive pleasure from the killing.

It’s sad and pathetic to have this level of trust with my own husband, but I honestly believe that this one is a direct effect of the child sexual abuse and incest. It is not unlike people in my family whom I had known and loved for years to suddenly up and molest me. I mean, I loved my Dad for fifteen years before he turned on me. And my brother – I think I was eight? Or seven or nine, I have no idea. Anyway, my point is, I have only lived with my husband for five years. That’s not even as long as I lived with my brother and father before they decided that my body was theirs to use against my will.

Not trusting my beautiful husband who only treats me with love and respect. This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.

Reason #83: Scared of men
April 29, 2009, 12:58 am
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I was thinking today about a male cyberfriend that I have. He’s been nothing but lovely so far, but always in the back of mind when dealing with men in general is a flashing DANGER DANGER DANGER sign. Some men have proven the danger sign to be true, some men have showed me no reason to fear them.

I was thinking today how unfair it is of me not to trust this male cyberfriend of mine at all. I mean, in our cyber time together so far, he’s been nothing but gentlemanly and gallant.

The more I thought about it though, the more I realized – that’s the point of this blog. There is nothing fair about me being distrustful of all men, just as there’s nothing fair about fucking kids. A female and two males molested me. Now I distrust all men, and frankly some women are circumspect as well. This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.

Reason #47: Trust
February 9, 2009, 3:53 pm
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The huz and I went to our first couples counseling session today. (Because we have no sex.)

She asked us a question that went something like this: “If you both woke up tomorrow and the problem was gone, what would that feel like? What would that like?”

I wanted to answer “We’d be fucking each other too much to see what it looks like.” But I didn’t say that. I said “We’d be having sex. We’d have intimacy.” Then I looked at the huz and said “I’d feel connected and close to you. And I would fully trust you.”

My history of sex abuse came up in session. The therapist said “Earlier in the session, you mentioned trust issues with your husband. The sex abuse is mega big when it comes to trust.”

When she said that, in my head I said ‘and that is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.” We totally lose our ability to trust.

Reason #5: We Become Afraid of All Babysitters
September 6, 2008, 8:07 pm
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Today was my son’s first day of day care. He has just learned to walk a few months ago, but he has no words. I started to cry this morning, getting him ready for his first day of day care. My husband assured me that it would be okay, and that he would love it.

The thing is, my mother trusted a young teenage girl to watch my brother and I. This babysitter molested us both. We were so young and so vulnerable, and the damage was done by the time Mom got home. This babysitter put her hands in places she shouldn’t have, her tongue on places she shouldn’t have, and had my brother put his tongue and mouth and hands and eyes on places he shouldn’t have had to know of. I was less than five years old, he was less than 8. We were scared and alone, and this woman was in charge, and there was no where we could run. She said “Let’s play a game.” Games shouldn’t make us feel dirty and scared forever.

Now that I am older, I understand that she was probably molested herself. But this is exactly my point. We know you molesters exist out there. We know you are opportunists who are just waiting for the right time and place to molest our children without getting caught in the act. And we know you will lie about it if you are caught.

Survivors of child sexual abuse tend to view the world in very black and white terms, without shades of gray. People are either good or bad. They will either hurt us and our kids, or they won’t. And since that is our understanding of the world, we become afraid of putting our children into day care. This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids, we become afraid of everyone that comes into contact with our children. You have proven you are willing to hurt us in unthinkable ways, and we take that knowledge with us in every facet of our life. Most especially with our children. The thought of such things happening to my beautiful, precious son scares me to my very core.

Please, G-d, don’t let this happen to my child. Please, Lord, protect my child in the way You were unable to protect me.

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