you guys, I am too melodramatic sometimes.
Let me start from the beginning.
The beginning starts when I was four years old.
When I was four years old I lived in architecturally modern household and I remember being in my grandmother’s room with the door closed. I remember her shirt off and I remember playing with her breasts. I remember laughing about it, and her encouraging me. I remember her friends coming over later and us all laughing about it.
I remember the moment early last year when I was watching the l word and hearing my best friend admit to being sexually molested as a little kid (two seperate moments) and wondering if I ever had been and I remember touching on that memory and thinking it wasn’t unusual.
If we go back to the beginning, we will notice that my memories are littered with black holes. I do not know how many times I partook in the above action, but I know it was more than once. I know that it was regular for me spend the night in my grandmother’s bed and all these things wouldn’t be unusual except they are.
They are incredibly unusual and the other day I went to an endocrynologist and she performed and informal pelvic exam on me and really she wasn’t molesting me, but I felt like I was being molested and there was a moment in which she stuck a finger in my vagina and it was incredibly painful and upsetting and she removed it immediately after I vocalized my discomfort, but I think the scariest most upsetting part is that it felt familiar.
This is not the end. Really we are just midway, at best.
When I was 8 I went to the YMCA with my good friend Kori. She wasn’t really a good friend, we were in girl schouts together and she was incredibly loud, rude, and abrasive. I am secretly a submissive person, but back then I was out in the open submissive and Kori was dominating. We spent the afternoon in the indoor pool, nad when it came time to shower/change Kori insisted, since it was so crowded, that we just share a shower and a dressing room. I didn’t protest.
Writing these memories makes me feel sick, disgusting, and awful. I feel like crying. The reason I am writing these is because these events have been secret. Real secrets, no one has known about them until recently when I told someone about it online, and then I told a girl that I met here at college, and I’m going to a counseler eventually although I don’t think we’re going to talk about this right away, but the thing is I can’t handle these secrets anymore.
So we are in the shower together and Kori, also 8 years old begins remarking on my body and I gnore her, I brush it off, whatever. She continues throughthe dressing rooms. Cut to another memory, we are at my house now, changing into regular clothesein my room, I am about to change in my bathroom but she calls me absurd and points out that we are both girls and it doesn’t matter and then she stares at me while I change, and thats whatever. Then she notices I’m having trouble putting on my sports bra.
This is starting to read like a badly written cheap porn, eight year old lesbian edition.
Anyways, she came over and straightened out my bra, which I didn’t even really need at the time. Then she ran her hands underneath the bra and groped me . The rest of the memory is intentionally left blank.
Someone told me that was molestation and I don’t really believe them. Not really, but I sort of do and I worry that if I keep these things secret I’ll never be able to have sex.
So thats why I’m writing this. Because I’ve been writing for over 11 years and I’ve never bothered to write this down and its important that theres a record of it somewhere. Its important that I recognize and remember how it feels to be this way in this moment before I hopefully get it all worked out.
fuck my life.
