I was never raped, but when I was 11, the son of a family friend copped a feel whenever we were…
Zelda Pinwheel
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I was raped, but my great uncle as a very little boy. I pushed it so far inside that I didn’t even know until is my 30s.

In between those events, starting in elementary school, I would defecate in my pants. During class or whenever, wherever. I would just freeze up and crap my pants. I now know that is a classic side effect of sexual trauma. Imagine all kinds of horrible names and teasing and taunting for something that I couldn’t help. On top of already being damaged.

Then one day when I was 13 I realized I could use sex to escape from what I perceived to be a dark terrible world a few minutes at a time. That led to a vicious cycle of shame and guilt remorse and more acting out that has plagued me and my relationships for years.

I now realize that me using charm to manipulate people, to have my way with them, was just me trying to have someone connect with me and say I choose you, and because I choose you you’re OK.

The original post struck a cord in many ways, because I was that lingerer, that strange guy that forced that extra hug. I needed some assurance that I was OK. That act of someone physically connecting with me made me feel OK for a brief moment and made me feel chosen instead of outcast.

No it doesn’t make it any more comfortable when that person is lingering, more than likely it’s a damaged soul just needing to be affirmed.

Unfortunately it’s normally the abused that are the abusers.

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