Mental Illness · sexuality

On the subject of ….

Pedophilia. I’ve met a lot of women in my lifetime who were assaulted or molested by an older man at some point in their teens. Society thinks it doesn’t happen, because no one talks about it. But half of these women were lesbians or promiscuous. Consequently, I think the molestation impacted their interactions with men in adult life.  And I think this way because, I at some point in my life, dated the same sex.

The feminine touch didn’t feel as dirty or cringe-worthy.   In the same vein, a man’s touch would make me flinch. I realize this has nothing at all to do with my sexuality.  I wasn’t dating women for love (though I had the capacity to love them).  Lesbian relationships just gave me a safer space.   You see, I have this idiosyncrasy.

I recoil each time a man reaches for me or I ball my fists up because if he touches me, I just know I’m gonna haul off and punch him. I can’t have that level of intimacy with a man without feeling like I want to scrub my skin off.  Because of this, I’m inclined to think being gay has nothing at all to do with sexual preference, and everything to do with feeling violated.

It occurred to me — a few years into my thirties — I wasn’t gay. I was just all kinds of fucked up. Well, I am– all kinds of fucked up. I was that little girl who was violated time and again. I can’t have normal adult conversations about sex and I live vicariously through movies like 40 year old Virgin, and Grown Ups because I envy those adult situations.