I suppose Ill explain now that I have more time
Submitted by Drifter on 2002-08-1 15:21:12, Thursday
In reply to That depends submitted by Drifter on 2002-08-1 01:56:48, Thursday
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My mother has always had an overwhelming fear of pedophiles, partly due to the fact that I am not the first pedophile in my family, and though Ive never heard the full story, I believe, from putting together bits and pieces Ive overheard throughout the years, that one of them she caught in the act herself. I have a very large family, in my mother's side there are several pedophiles in my generation and in my father's there is at least one 3 generations ago (my great grandfather). It may not be fair to call them pedophiles, since it is unclear which ones were truly preferential pedophiles and which were simply situational, but having this many in one family of either type is still unusual. So, while growing up I was filled with warnings about what could happen to me. My mother wasnt very subtle, she wouldnt tell me something as simple as 'theyll hurt you', shed say 'theyll take their _____ and put it in your ____'. I think her purpose in saying that was to scare us, but I dont remember it ever actually working, I think it would instead make me more curious ('why would someone want to put their ____ in my ____?'). Other times her warnings were in reverse, not about protecting me from pedophiles, but about protecting me from becoming one. I remember for example one time, how with tears in my eyes, I had to tell a boy I was playing with that I couldnt play with him anymore because my mom wouldnt let me (he was younger than I, and my mom insisted I needed to hang out with the boys my age). Now...the stage is set so I can talk about 'molestation'. I dont remember when it began, perhaps it had always been. My mother would play a game with me where she would touch my penis when I wasnt expecting it. I would cover it up and laugh and she would try to move my hands out the way, but she couldnt (at least not without getting serious and crossing the line, which she never did). The whole time I would be laughing, and sometimes I would even initiate it myself 'you cant touch me!'. But see...the reason I am reluctant to call it molestation is because I dont believe it was ever consciously a sexual thing to her (or to me). It wasnt something that I consciously thought about or considered important. It was just a game devoid of any meaning as far as I was consciously concerned. I use the word consciously so often in these descriptions, because all of this changed one day. I was now 19 years old, the game had stopped long ago and I had never bothered to think about it, since it was consciously not of any relevance whatsoever. But that day, I had an argument with my mom. I dont recall what it was about, it may have been about my horrible grades (which were a result of my depression over my pedophilia at the time). What I do remember is the thought that came raging into my head. I had to struggle not to shout this at the top of my lungs while flinging objects across the room, and thank God I was able to control my feelings. The words that raged in my mind were "YOU STUPID B_TCH! LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO ME!! WHY?! WHY?! LOOK WHAT YOU TURNED ME INTO!! I LOVED YOU AND LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID TO ME!! LOOK AT WHAT IVE BECOME BECAUSE OF YOU!!". That was the first time that I ever dwelled on those past incidents. They truly had not crossed my mind up until the point that those words came raging into my head. Its like my subconscious mind made that connection on its own, without requiring me to think about it, indeed I had long forgotten that game by the time I was 19, until that day. After much thought and analysis, I do not believe that the incident caused my pedophilia, neither do I believe it was as significant as my mind made it seem that day. I find it more likely based on my family history, that pedophilia is something I inherited genetically. However, it is not something that I spend much time thinking a bout anymore, because how I became what I am is irrelevant. There is more I could say on this topic, but then this would start turning into a whole book, so, I think Ill cut it off at this point. love, Drifter |
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