October 31, 2011

Confessions of an Incest Survivor: It Wasn’t All Bad. ~ Sister Shamu {Trigger Warning}

photo: val.pearl

Warning: adult content below. 

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When people learn that I was molested as a child, they tend to say, “That explains it”.

The promiscuity, the loose sexual boundaries, the Jerry Springer-like quality of my sexual indiscretions… they all tend to make sense when you look at the fact that my initiation into sex was pretty messed up. I had an ex-boyfriend once who said, with no small amount of embarrassment, that when he learned a girl was molested as a child there was a guilty sense of excitement. Sort of like: “Oh yeah! She’s a freak!” He hated that my innocence was taken from me, but recognized that he benefited from it.

Incest is one of those areas where everyone has an opinion. Most people hate pedophiles; most people feel sorry for children who have been molested; most people are horrified by the thought of relatives having sex. Hell, I didn’t even like typing the words “relatives having sex”. I’m not sure if it was my resistance to equating incest (an act most people see as violently sick and twisted) to sex (something less emotionally charged) or simply a reaction to the social taboo.

photo: independentman

The truth is that the trauma caused by experiencing sex with a relative at an early age is so much more convoluted and shocking than most people suspect that they would likely stare in horrified fascination at the bloody emotional wreckage, and then self-righteously blame the victim because they have no clue how to process something that goes against all reason. Allow me to elaborate:

I enjoyed being molested as a child. I liked it. I sought it out. I got jealous if my molester paid attention to anyone else. I was intrigued by being able to do adult things and knowing things that only adults knew. I loved being desired and I found power in my sexuality. I learned to be sexy at an early age and it gained me attention and favor that most women do not fully appreciate until their boobs begin to droop and their waistlines thicken.

While I recognize that my reaction to childhood abuse is not the only kind of reaction—others may act like people expect them to… hating sex, afraid of their sexuality, victim-like—my reaction is not an uncommon one. The true shame of being abused as a child is that you don’t feel about it the way you “should” feel about it. People want to pity you and when you don’t give them anything to pity, they say you are as sick as your molester.

The reason pedophiles get away with their abuse for so long is that they pick their victims well. It’s like they have a homing beacon that lights up when they are near a child who is lonely and neglected and desperate for love. It works because they give the child the very things it craves: attention, support, approval, respect and all the other things we associate with love. It also works because sex feels good. It feels good from the inside out. It doesn’t not feel good simply because you’re not old enough for it to feel good. It creeps most people out to think of a pre-pubescent child experiencing sexual pleasure, but they can and do so all the time… that is unless they get caught with their hands in their pants and get into trouble for it.

That being said, do I wish I hadn’t been molested? I spent my whole life trying to be normal. I had no clue what it was like to have platonic friends because I would wind up fucking them all sooner or later. My identity was so entangled with my sexuality that if you had taken that part of me away, there would have been precious little left. I lived with the shame of not feeling the way people expected me to feel for so long that I learned to hide the deepest parts of me even from myself. I was conditioned to believe that the truth would damn you and that lies protected the things you cherished. I learned to lie well.

If you noticed I didn’t really answer the question, you are perceptive. I don’t begrudge any of my experiences. They have made me who I am and some days I really like that person. Being molested has allowed me to explore issues of sexuality and right and wrong in a way that would have been difficult if I had not experienced it personally.

Of course, I would cut the penis off a pedophile in a heartbeat and chop it up with unholy glee into tiny little bits. I’m just saying.


Relephant Read:

What every Sexual Abuse Survivor Wants You to Know.

Relephant Video: What do watch out for in life and love.

Sister Shamu (not her real name) is the former owner of Oops Mental Health Services (not its real name), which was a casualty of the unstable American healthcare system and an over-inflated ego. Now unemployed, Sister Shamu realizes that what she is qualified to do bares no resemblance to what she wants to do and has become preoccupied with confronting her slightly hostile and often devious Shadow Self by sharing intensely personal blogs and writing a novel that, like her, seems to be in a constant state of edit.

Reply to Cj cancel

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Brad Jun 7, 2019 12:26pm

As a boy I too sought out men. Girls around me at the time were too busy with older guys for me so it was natural . The one thing both the left and right do is deny human nature in their hubris. I am not one of them and would have gladly been in a family where sexual exploration wasnt dictated by state or church . My Wife and I both feel this way . Our puritanical witch hunts do none a service if it is consentual and safe. Yes of course here come the drum thumpers telling me I had no ability to consent at twelve years of age. Like hell I didnt . Once again human nature will not be changed because you do not like it . This of course forces the young into the shadows to trully be preyed upon . That to my mind is a far greater crime . This certainly damaged me more than sex at a young age. And ah but for one woman to tell me it and I was O.K. with a loving touch ! No matter her relationship to me ,or her age . That too was damaging . For her touch and her support I love my Wife more than words can convey . Well may you be happy and well . I certainly am at last .

marie Nov 12, 2015 4:13pm

There is a guy who used to bully me sexually. He used to just get in my face and ask for my number, and whispering nasty things into my ear. I told my friends about this, and they pitied me and thought it was horrible. But I kind of liked it. I have clinical deppresion and social anxiety, and hated my body. I had never gotten attention like that before, and suddenly, someone was trying to get me in bed.

Somehow, he got my schedule, and would track me down and push me against the wall. He was so angry, every time. he would threaten me and try to kiss me. then, he touched me. I was a Virgin, so it was exhilarating, even more so, because it felt so wrong. He repeated this whenever he could. I never fought him.

One day, he went far enough as to track up my skirt and feel me. That was when I knew it needed to stop.

Cj Oct 29, 2015 4:50pm

I liked it too.

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