Wholly cry eye Batman #ME TOO!

We will sell our souls, our self esteem, our truth our dignity all to have a piece of the pie or in my case attention, any kind of attention. At least I am desirable to them. It started with the wrong kind of touch. I am five. He is my mom’s brother. He tells me I am sexy. He rapes me of my romantic thoughts of “the first time’. The sick bastard overpowered me and takes what he wants without my consent.

 Gin kills the pain.

So I figure out how to get attention! Flirt with the boys. I do.  Raped. 7 years old at the end of Via Hierba drive tangled in a Magnolia bush. Four boys take their turns with me. I will never tell.  I am sexy.

Gin kills the pain.

Oh I have a crush on him. I’m 9 on shrooms. Please don’t do that, don’t do that, don’t do that, ouch. Blood. I think he likes me.

Gin kills the pain.

The weirdo flasher. Hope Ranch Beach. I finally tell. Embarrassment. Police. Supersexy at 9 in my one piece Lycra suit. I will never tell again.

Gin kills the pain.

I am a piece of meat, a non person, dead or alive, do with me what you wish. I don’t care.

As the years pass by I am flashed, groped, grabbed, defiled, used, abused, degraded and manipulated.

This is the only way I know you care.

This is only a portion of my story. I tell it because I hope it might help you  Broken, is the cycle of shame. After countless crappy relationships, years in therapy, working the 12 steps in Alcoholics Anonymous and turning my life over to a spirit greater than me. I have finally found a bit of love for myself and you as well.