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July 13, 2004
Continuation of the “Assault On The Past”
One of my neighbors became interested in me which allowed me to have an afternoon buddy as he worked nights. He was employed as a Deputy Sheriff in the county in which I lived. He, like the other acquaintances of my youth had some appeal to me due to their profession or hobbies. I assisted this man with his bulk paper route deliveries on some weekends. In addition, to the few dollars I earned, he was always full of treats, and as an early teen, I was easily lured by the girly magazines and beer. He was just one more male in the revolving door of my sexual activities.
A stranger, a co-worker came onto the scene when I was fourteen in a somewhat non-abusing sense because by then I was well aware of the approach. I don’t think that this lessens the effect of molestation because I consented. I never found it easy to say no since I was four years old. This man was in all sense of description – just simply queer. His actions, mannerisms, approach and desires were never hidden or masked. A real queen – a genuine exhibitor of the term, who only desired to perform oral sex; never asking of anything in return.
The variety of men that I encountered was more engaged between the ages of eleven and fifteen. And now that I think of it – until I reached puberty, there wasn’t much they could get out of me. With my self proclaimed independence at sixteen, I was free to choose any direction I desired away from these leeches. They were no longer able to persuade me to do things that I didn’t want to do, although the division between want and need was blurred.
I never felt any loss, just an aloneness because their façade of love proved to be an embarrassment to me and resulted in a low self-assurance that carried into my adult years.
At sixteen, I experienced my first anger, violence, revenge aspect of my personality towards a person who began to introduce me to adult level perversions; in the guise of a female impersonator. This man was my brother’s Godfather crossing into my life again, extending his sickness over a twelve year period. I never felt so cheated in my life and this formed a basis for caution, mistrust and yes, even hatred towards those who would dare cheat me of or lure me away from the normal dreams of my future. As early as seventeen, I knew I wanted a family. I knew that I wanted no part of the sick lives I saw in the roles that these people portrayed.
[A reminder – that this was written in 1985]
Posted by Nealus at July 13, 2004 05:32 PM
Comments
I wish you the best of luck for your book, and your journey to recovery. You are a brave man!!
Posted by: menina at July 13, 2004 06:21 PM
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