When you have been physically and mentally abused, you start to wonder why you were ever born.
The one person you expect to be there to stop you from anymore abuse, really had no idea the person she married was also going to draw someone else to her bedroom.
Funny thing about it is, when it came to strangers who liked me, her radar was as keen and as sharp as it should be. Perhaps, to the point where she was being overally protective.
When someone wanted to teach me how to play golf, he was gay...whatever that meant. When someone wanted to help me improve my hand and eye coordination trying to hit baseballs, he was gay.
But when dad asked if it was okay for me to wash his back, that was okay? I'd love to say something like what was she raised on a farm...she was. So that's out.
So why would a kid want to wash his father's back?
Certainly not for quality time!
Gentle reader, please don't throw this book in shock and horror. And be patient with me.
I chose to be male. But my body, my mind and a half built female organ pulled and neatly tucked to the left side of my body tell me I could have gone either way.
I learned how to contract my wide hips in and my femurs -- because I'm pigeon toed inwards hides my famine hips and fat helps to hide my skinny waist.
I am one of those rare humans who was 40 percent of female organ. I had never seen myself naked and my testicles hadn't dropped yet.
My brother, Paul had already seen plenty of nude women in Playboy Magazines. He showed me, once, a centerfold and I found it totally disgusting. How could a woman show herself off that way?
Also, while riding a bicycle the point of the seat touched something just forward of the anus and made me feel really good. I rode on that point all the way home.
Now, imagine for just a moment that when this female is confronted with the scents of a steamy hot bath water and that sweet enticing heat a man exudes from every pore of his body...I was off in a magical world.
He fell dead asleep. Cutting logs with his snoring.
I quietly went into my room and cried myself to sleep.
What did I do wrong?
As I discovered that's how they work. One step at a time until Yosemite Sam's, "Fire in the hole, my buns are burning" is given a new meaning.
To this day, I'm very good at giving massages.
It wasn't until I had my first female orgasm that he laid the famous guilt trip on me. "Don't tell anyone or we'll both go to jail."
Oh, and if you want to know why I knew it was female and not male, a few weeks later while I was masturbating, my male part did its own thing.
Three things happened after he laid his guilt trip on me. One, no more sex with the pops penis. Two, I became self conscious about looking at other guys in the locker room. Three, I started seeing what my mother was concerned about with gay guys and hated them.
I really had to watch myself in public as my butt sway and my hand gestures started happening when ever I started thinking about men's butts. Especially, naked firm ones.
I started taking mud baths, imagined it was quicksand and a handsome man would save me. At home, I would paint myself gold and display my nude body to the rest of the world like Shirley Eaton did in Goldfinger on top of my heater in my room. The windows showing my golden body to the rest of the world.
Veruschka and I had the same sensuous dreams of being painted various colors and blending into the background. And both of us and felt the passions flowing through our skins. Of course, Vera -- as I know her and have communicated with her as time passed -- was much prettier and a Vogue model. She also made a ton of money from her skin paintings.
I, on the other hand, was a mess!
Male harmonies kicked in, my family jewels dropped and now, I could encase myself into my own fantasy world of a gold statue. Soft curves, rough edges.
Something else happened. I applied my sexual energy to preparing myself for the PSATs. Up to this point, a kid lucky to get through High School takes the PSATs and is ranked in the top 3% of the country.
So, two of us were called into the principle's office and we were told a team of experts were going to be called in to tell the school why, with such PSAT scores, our grades didn't reflect the same type of scores.
I could have saved them the time. Unless I'm totally focused on going to school and achieving top grades, Unless they address my dyslexia issues. Unless they get me tutors to help me with classes getting Cs in classes where I have to memorize and study for exams is what your school is going to get out of me.
But I also got a chance to talk to a clinical Psychologist and since everything was confidential, I told him everything that had happened up to this point. I even showed him where my female skin was located as well as showed him what happens when it is stimulated.
I also explained to him that I found great comfort in doing things my real sex does and what my feelings were about guys. Namely, they are aggressive, crude and control freaks.
He asked me if I wanted to have my sex changed and I said yes. He then said that was a shame. I asked why and he said, "Because you will lose 15 years of my life."
You never tell a dyslexic something like that without explaining what that means. So, I took it literally and decided that a sex change wasn't worth doing if it meant losing 15 years of existence on this planet.
Today, of course, I know what he really meant.
Anyway, he had a conversation with my mom whom pretty much blew him off. He then told me not to smoke and try to maintain my weight.
About a year later, my mother told me I had the prettiest eyelashes she had ever seen.
So, I got off the merry go round, joined the Army and started enjoying myself with the pleasures of women.
So, what's the outtake of all of this?
Well, children should never be the mental, physical or sexual punching bags for their parents. They also be able to talk to their parents about anything on their minds and parents should listen.
This is their world, not yours. What they see, how they feel and what role you should be playing to protect them should not be driven by your experiences dealing with what you think are similar issues.
Yours are not.
No parent should ask a child to do something that presents the opportunity for sexual abuse.
The one person you expect to be there to stop you from anymore abuse, really had no idea the person she married was also going to draw someone else to her bedroom.
Funny thing about it is, when it came to strangers who liked me, her radar was as keen and as sharp as it should be. Perhaps, to the point where she was being overally protective.
When someone wanted to teach me how to play golf, he was gay...whatever that meant. When someone wanted to help me improve my hand and eye coordination trying to hit baseballs, he was gay.
But when dad asked if it was okay for me to wash his back, that was okay? I'd love to say something like what was she raised on a farm...she was. So that's out.
So why would a kid want to wash his father's back?
Certainly not for quality time!
Gentle reader, please don't throw this book in shock and horror. And be patient with me.
I chose to be male. But my body, my mind and a half built female organ pulled and neatly tucked to the left side of my body tell me I could have gone either way.
I learned how to contract my wide hips in and my femurs -- because I'm pigeon toed inwards hides my famine hips and fat helps to hide my skinny waist.
I am one of those rare humans who was 40 percent of female organ. I had never seen myself naked and my testicles hadn't dropped yet.
My brother, Paul had already seen plenty of nude women in Playboy Magazines. He showed me, once, a centerfold and I found it totally disgusting. How could a woman show herself off that way?
Also, while riding a bicycle the point of the seat touched something just forward of the anus and made me feel really good. I rode on that point all the way home.
Now, imagine for just a moment that when this female is confronted with the scents of a steamy hot bath water and that sweet enticing heat a man exudes from every pore of his body...I was off in a magical world.
He fell dead asleep. Cutting logs with his snoring.
I quietly went into my room and cried myself to sleep.
What did I do wrong?
As I discovered that's how they work. One step at a time until Yosemite Sam's, "Fire in the hole, my buns are burning" is given a new meaning.
To this day, I'm very good at giving massages.
It wasn't until I had my first female orgasm that he laid the famous guilt trip on me. "Don't tell anyone or we'll both go to jail."
Oh, and if you want to know why I knew it was female and not male, a few weeks later while I was masturbating, my male part did its own thing.
Three things happened after he laid his guilt trip on me. One, no more sex with the pops penis. Two, I became self conscious about looking at other guys in the locker room. Three, I started seeing what my mother was concerned about with gay guys and hated them.
I really had to watch myself in public as my butt sway and my hand gestures started happening when ever I started thinking about men's butts. Especially, naked firm ones.
I started taking mud baths, imagined it was quicksand and a handsome man would save me. At home, I would paint myself gold and display my nude body to the rest of the world like Shirley Eaton did in Goldfinger on top of my heater in my room. The windows showing my golden body to the rest of the world.
Veruschka and I had the same sensuous dreams of being painted various colors and blending into the background. And both of us and felt the passions flowing through our skins. Of course, Vera -- as I know her and have communicated with her as time passed -- was much prettier and a Vogue model. She also made a ton of money from her skin paintings.
I, on the other hand, was a mess!
Male harmonies kicked in, my family jewels dropped and now, I could encase myself into my own fantasy world of a gold statue. Soft curves, rough edges.
Something else happened. I applied my sexual energy to preparing myself for the PSATs. Up to this point, a kid lucky to get through High School takes the PSATs and is ranked in the top 3% of the country.
So, two of us were called into the principle's office and we were told a team of experts were going to be called in to tell the school why, with such PSAT scores, our grades didn't reflect the same type of scores.
I could have saved them the time. Unless I'm totally focused on going to school and achieving top grades, Unless they address my dyslexia issues. Unless they get me tutors to help me with classes getting Cs in classes where I have to memorize and study for exams is what your school is going to get out of me.
But I also got a chance to talk to a clinical Psychologist and since everything was confidential, I told him everything that had happened up to this point. I even showed him where my female skin was located as well as showed him what happens when it is stimulated.
I also explained to him that I found great comfort in doing things my real sex does and what my feelings were about guys. Namely, they are aggressive, crude and control freaks.
He asked me if I wanted to have my sex changed and I said yes. He then said that was a shame. I asked why and he said, "Because you will lose 15 years of my life."
You never tell a dyslexic something like that without explaining what that means. So, I took it literally and decided that a sex change wasn't worth doing if it meant losing 15 years of existence on this planet.
Today, of course, I know what he really meant.
Anyway, he had a conversation with my mom whom pretty much blew him off. He then told me not to smoke and try to maintain my weight.
About a year later, my mother told me I had the prettiest eyelashes she had ever seen.
So, I got off the merry go round, joined the Army and started enjoying myself with the pleasures of women.
So, what's the outtake of all of this?
Well, children should never be the mental, physical or sexual punching bags for their parents. They also be able to talk to their parents about anything on their minds and parents should listen.
This is their world, not yours. What they see, how they feel and what role you should be playing to protect them should not be driven by your experiences dealing with what you think are similar issues.
Yours are not.
No parent should ask a child to do something that presents the opportunity for sexual abuse.
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