Reasons You Shouldn’t Fuck Kids

Reason #178: That weird vagina thing

You remember that weird vagina thing that was happening to me, where my vagina was really really warm for like 3 days?  Well, during that time, the huz and I were seated for our nightly tv watching, and my vagina was so hot that I put ice in a baggie, put them in my panties, and sat there like that all night.  Even with ice on it all night, my vagina still retained all that heat.

I wrote to one of my best friends about it – I always go to her for sexual and medical issues – and I asked her if she knew anything about having a hot vagina.  She said “A hot vagina?  Never heard of it.”  Then I asked her if it was possible that I have gotten so fat that my inner thighs were crowding my vagina to the point of heat exhaustion.  She said she didn’t think that was possible in my case.

The interesting thing about that weekend of vagina-hotness that I neglected to mention in my original post about my vagina was that my dad and brother were visiting that weekend.  I live far away from them, on purpose, so that I can control when/how I see them, and we had planned for them to come see us that weekend.

As my readers know, my dad and I have been trying to have some semblance of a relationship.  We are trying to heal.  Healing, for me, means understanding what happened to me, his role in it, what he himself did to me, and acknowledging it and living with it.  Healing, for my dad, means me trusting him.  Since trusting him is not a possibility, our versions of healing will probably never meet.  Either way, it’s been interesting trying to have my father in my life.  As for my brother, I have long since forgiven him, but I do not trust him in the slightest.

Some of the commenters on my vagina post said that maybe it was a body memory.  After I read their comments, I decided to acknowledge the possibility of this being true.  As soon as I acknowledged it, ALL OF IT WENT AWAY AND I HAVEN’T FELT IT SINCE.  This reality scares the shit out of me.

I don’t know what the vagina hotness means, and I am not 100% certain it was a body memory, but I have to admit – the evidence certainly weighs heavily in favor of it being a body memory of some kind.  It happened when two of my molesters came to visit me.  There was no organic reason for it (no allergic reaction, no different panties, etc.).  And, all of it went away as soon as I acknowledged the possibility of it being a body memory.

If it is a body memory – man, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that?  I know there is one whole abuser that I have no memory of (the babysitter) – could this hot vagina thing be about her?  Did she have my brother and I doing sexual shit to each other, do you suppose?  My brother told my mom that everything he did to me, so did she.  The sensation kind of reminded me of the sensation of my brother rubbing my vagina, except when he did it, my vagina would get numb after a while.  My instinct tells me this is not about him though.  And that leaves me to wonder what the fuck is happening to me?  Is my body trying to tell me something?

 This is my life now – constantly trying to piece together the puzzle of why is Butterfly so fucked up?  Every new thing is a clue.  What if I never have conscious memory?  Am I supposed to just walk around being okay with a hot vagina?

I am left with all these questions as to what could have happened that was so fucked up that my mind will only allow me to remember it as a physical sensation with no image to go with it.  As I have said on so many occasions before, I am afraid of what’s to come.   This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.   You don’t just fuck us as kids, you fuck us up forever.

Reason #176: My Vagina

There’s something wrong with my vagina. For the past few days, my vagina has been having hot-flashes. I don’t know what else to call it. You know how women who are going through menopause experience hot flashes? I am not going through menopause, but the lips of my vagina are experiencing hot flashes.

It is causing me some worry. First of all, something might be wrong. Second of all, I might have to see the gynecologist, and as my readers know, seeing the vagina doctor is hard for survivors of sex abuse. Too many people have already seen my vagina, and even though the trip to the gyno would be consensual, it always involves crying.

It’s not burning exactly, it’s more like a very deep warmth on my labia.  It’s uncomfortable, but what is more uncomfortable is not knowing what is wrong. 

This weekend, I was panicking about it a little with my husband, trying to figure out what was wrong, running around looking for a mirror to look at my vagina.  He asked me if I wanted him to look at it.  He’s a sweet guy, and he truly wanted to help.  I said “No, we don’t have that kind of relationship.”  The truth of that statement made me so sad that it brought tears to my eyes.  I don’t have the kind of relationship with my husband where he can see my vagina.

I have never allowed him to perform oral sex on me.  Never.  My brother did this to me, and I just can’t allow my husband to do it.  I hated the sensation when my brother was doing it, and just thinking about it now makes me feel so disgusting that I want to vomit and shower.  I said no when my brother wanted to do it, and I said no some more.  I said no again.  He finally talked me into it, probably because I realized that I didn’t really have any choice.  He was bigger than me, and if he wanted to use violence to solve my ‘no’, he could have.  But he didn’t have to – I finally agreed. 

Maybe I just wanted him to love me, and stop being so angry and hateful with me all the time.  The truth is that when he was molesting me – that was the nicest he ever was to me.

I dissociated while he was molesting me, pretending to be the wall.  I am the wall, I am the wall, I am the wall, I chanted to myself while he was molesting me, his head between my legs.  I am the wall, I am the wall, I am the wall.  I have no idea how many times he molested me.

I don’t want to be the fucking wall with my husband.  I want to be in bed with him, enjoying us together, saying yes because I actually want to be sexual with him instead of saying yes to having my body used without me in it.

Now my pussy is having some sort of physical problem, and I am at a loss as to what is wrong.  I can’t see it for myself no matter what mirror I use, and I can’t allow my husband to look at it for me.  I just don’t feel comfortable with his head between my legs the way my brother’s was.  This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.

Reason #20: Don’t Touch
November 3, 2008, 12:55 pm
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I was telling my mom the other night how the huz and I are about to celebrate two years of not having any sex.  I mean, I say it like a joke  – the fact that we are celebrating it like an anniversary – but then shit got serious.  I said, “He shows no interest in my vagina.”

Mom said, “Hmm, that is weird.”

Me: “Well, it might be my fault.”

Mom: “Why?”

Me: “Well, the first few times he tried to touch my vagina was a few years ago, right after we got married.  I got all fucked up because it reminded me of when my brother used to touch me there.  I would freak out, and the huz got scared and hasn’t really tried to touch me there ever since.”

Mom: “Oh sweetie, I am so sorry.”

Mom always has a way of saying she’s sorry that makes me cry.  I knew what she was saying – that I was missing out on something that was probably beautiful for other people whose brothers had never touched their hoo-hahs when they were kids.

This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids though.  We can’t even let our husbands touch our vaginas without totally freaking out.  I am an adult, I want to have sex like normal people.  More than that, I want to want to have sex. Instead, I celebrate no-sex anniversaries.