Daddy's Little Girl?It started with my grandfather in the den. We were watching a movie. In this movie was a sex scene. Grandpa said that it was natural as he started running his fingers up and down my sides. It tickled. I was 4. How did I not know that he was being sexual? Well, I was 4. No one tells a four year old girl about sexuality. Appearently through some of my readings I've learned that children as young as 3 and 4 start to rub their genitalia. This is not done to climax of course but merely a form of self discovery. That inherint sense of self-curiosity can be exploited by adults for their own sad gain. As a child you believe that a single man can visit all the houses in the world and deliver presents to them, you believe that when you lose a tooth a fantastical winged lady comes into your bedroom at night and gifts you with money. (You also believe that Jesus was NOT born in the spring but was born on a cold winter's night; experts in theology who've studied the Bible scolls all agree that Jesus of Nazareth was born in early spring.) In short you believe everything that you are told by your sacred elders. You must honor your mother and father they say. When your mother and father teach you wrong where does that leave you?
I'll tell you where it left my father and mother. Perverse in thought is where it left them. The sexual revolution opened the doors to talking openly about such things. I've read Hustler Magazines that are dated from the nineteen eighties and they openly narrated stories of ****** as if they were beautiful events. Sensationalized these taboos were in the eighties. I was born in 1985 into a Floridian culture of drugs, sex, and the law of omerta. (Country music had more to do with it than rock and roll.) I see the sickness and pain that I endured as a child as a phenomenon spanning accross the "civilized" western hemisphere. America is sick. Amenrica is sick and economically dereft because of the abuse suffered by today's 20-somethings when we were children. It's evident to me that more people in my generation have had abuse than they want to admit.
What happened to me exactly? Well, I was raised to believe that I was just like my father. I looked like him, I could talk in different accents like him, I was funny like him, I liked cars and motorcycles just like him. I also, like him, found that girls were very pretty. I thought that I was a member of the boy's club. Like a woman trying to make it in the business world in the early 1980's I found out that that which they called the "way that things are done" happened to be the way that they make you feel like you are just as valuable as a man in order to get into your pants. The culteral phenomenon that is a good ol' boy's way of handling the idea of women being equal still exists to this day. Now, we call that sexual harassment. But when it's your own father pretending to befriend you, to appeal to your sense of accomplishment or duty in order to sexually exploit you you don't even see it coming. Can a man not control his penis? Or have we raised men to believe that their penis has a mind of its own and that they are therefore not responsible for what it does? I believe that it is the latter.
My father probably started molesting me when I was an infant. I cannot remember a time when a perverse joke or comment was not said. My grandfather passed his lack of knowledge about females being a member of the same species down to my father. Females are just a little something to poke on right? No. Not right at all. There was a time when the Christian Patriarchy claimed to worship the feminine sacred, but burned women at the stake for using their brains or speaking like men. What was once literal remains the same today but it has become the figurative. I'm gay. I was born gay. This confuses things for me in another manner altogether. Yes I've had sex with men as a way of acting out the abuse (if I was going to have sex with a man it would be my choice and on my own terms). What's confuses things is that I saw my father as being a popular person who made everybody laugh. That was true. He was popular, everybody liked him. How am I confused now? I want to be a better "man" than my father was. I'm not ready to date because I was raised wrong. I was trained wrong. A german shepard can lead the blind, of be a ravenous beast on the end of a chain. I'm the latter. Sex. Ah, I'm good at it. Who isn't? But how do I have sex with a woman and view her as a whole person first? How do I break the chains that bind and lead my own blind self? How can I treat a woman the way that I want to be treated when I believe that I should be treated like a man? I have come to despise gender roles. But my breasts are big so I must fit the barbie mold when it comes to first impressions I give to others. How do I admire the feminine form in all its aesthetic without drooling as the men do? Is the "men's club" all about dehumanizing women to segregate the gender?
There is no real difference between a clitoris and a penis.
I can control my clitoris when I start to think about oh, that woman is sexy, I can rein in my desire before I'm standing at the register with a puddle in my pants. I can control my sexual urges. So can a man. We are all human. We are one species. My father could have thought about the situation of ****** and realized that his father held ignorance about females. But he chose to deify his father as a symbolic figurehead who held all the answers. My mother chose her role as the biker bi-atch hussy. Ah pre-defined self categorizing leads a person to be not a person but a caricature of another. Yes, I'm gay, am I gay because of what had happened? No. If I followed my training I'd be a prosti-tute or a stipper by now. Get it? I was driven the way a boy is driven to please his father. I mean I do feminine stuff like pluck my eyebrows and shave my legs but I still feel like a drag queen whn I put on makeup and a skirt. Even as a child I'd be amused that there was a little blonde girl staring back at me. Pretty, I thought, pretty and funny that that's me. I also thought that my family could see that I was more masculine. I thought that my father would never lie to me. I believed him when he said that everyone does it but they don't talk about it. The irony is that I now believe that many of my peers were told the same thing. We are coming out of our stupor, we victims around the world. America is hopefully reaching a new level of truth where ****** and other forms of manipulative coercion are becoming antiquated rhetoric. It's not that I'm a man trapped inside a woman's body, though some of those are in existence. I believe that I thought to myself: "I can think so I'm not one of those ob