Monday, May 16, 2011

My Childhood Sexual Abuse (and the “My School Years” Blog Addendum)

This is an extrapolation to the blog I wrote in 2008 titled “My School Years by Petra Luna”. I am writing this as an addendum because when I wrote the first blog, I was not ready to tell the world my entire story, but now I am. It took a long time for me to talk about my years of sexual abuse because for some odd reason, I felt that in some way it was my shame to have. I finally succumb to the fact that no matter what I did, being groomed to have sex at an inappropriately young age was not my fault.

When I was 11, I was a very sad and lost child. My father and mother were constantly fighting. She rejected me and he was never around. I was a late bloomer in terms of my development and was very self conscious about it. I also was starting to run wild at that point. I was wearing “rocker” clothes, with miniskirts, fish net stockings and high heels, kind of like Madonna in the 80s with lots of makeup. I hung out at the malls and arcades because any place was better than being at home. Another thing that kept me coming back was that fact that I realized I could get older boys to pay attention to me. Being so incredibly starved for attention and admiration, I became hooked on their charms. I knew I was turning out to be a pretty girl and soon learned that I was attractive to boys. In desperation, I was determined to use what I had to get any kind of attention and love I could get, since I was not getting any at home and I was bullied and excluded at school.

While loitering, two boys named M and T started paying attention to me. They were two years older than me and had cars. That made them even more exciting to hang out with. Soon after I met them, they asked me to sneak out of my house at night after my family fell to sleep, to go out and “party” with them. I would regularly crawl out my bedroom window at 12 midnight and return before sunrise.

Ostracized at school, abused and neglected at home, feeling very lonely and sad, I became obsessed with the new attention. In hind sight, I was the perfect target to be victimized. I was already smoking cigarettes and they soon introduced me to drugs and alcohol. Basically, I was going to do anything to look cool so that they would keep me around. At only eleven years old, I believed they really liked me. Little did I know, they had plans for me that went beyond just ‘hanging out’.

M was the first to groom me. In the summer months, he would invite me over to his house to watch TV. In my mind, he was doing this because he wanted to be my boyfriend. I never had a boyfriend before. I was so happy. On the first two visits we watched TV downstairs. On the third visit, he asked me to go upstairs to his bedroom. My mother never told me anything about sex, so I believed his intentions were good. I couldn’t even conceptualize that he was out to hurt me. That was the farthest thing from my mind. When we got upstairs he asked me to take my pants off and lie on the bed. I could not imagine what he wanted me to do that for. I knew nothing about any type of sex. The entire thought of anything sexual was horrifying. The little I did know gave me nightmares even thinking about what males and females did together to make babies. I was so scared, but the thought of him telling me to go away and not hang around with him anymore, was even more frightening. I suppose I figured this was the price I had to pay to have his attention and admiration. He proceeded to finger me and perform oral sex on me. It hurt but I was not about to cry. I wanted to show him I was a mature woman and not a little girl. To this day, I still have flash backs. When I look down on myself, I still sometimes see him violating me. For many years, I did not respect my own sexuality because of the haunting images of that first incident. The abuse eventually escalated to giving him hand jobs and oral sodomy. To a confused and lonely child, “negative attention is better than no attention”. This was a perfect example of that old saying.

After about a year, I learned that M had a girlfriend. I found out because he took her to his homecoming dance. I was very hurt. I thought that since I had to endure all of that sexual activity, I would be the one who deserved to go to the dance. I did not have the tools to deal with that sort of mature and devastating situation at twelve years old. Things cooled off for a few months and before I knew it, his best friend T started flirting with me. I didn’t know boys talked to each other about their sexual conquests and I was too immature to understand why you should not date a boy’s best friend, so I went out with T.

I think T believed he could take me farther sexually then M was able to. He was meaner than M and since I was from an abusive home where abuse equaled love, his personality drew me even closer to him. I did the same things with T that I had done with M but what made him different was that this time I fell in love. Damn, my whole world revolved around T.

T eventually got fed up with me because I would not go any farther sexually with him, then I did with M. He also took his “public” girlfriend to the prom. This time, I was so in love with him that I could not tear myself away from him, even when I found out about his girlfriend. I was crushed. It deeply hurt me to know that I was sneaking out of my house to satisfy him sexually and that this other girl got to go to the prom with him. I was so messed up I could not see straight. It was a situation that a twelve year old should not have to deal with. I withdrew and let the situation kill any sense of self confidence I was developing. That was when the third boy R moved into the picture.

Unbeknown to me, R was part of M and T’s crew. This boy convinced me to forget about T and start seeing him. He seemed much nicer than T. I was in an intensely desperate and lonely state of mind so when he asked me out, I accepted. I told him about all of my pain and rejection and believed he really cared about me. He somehow convinced me that he was different. I was under the impression that this one would take me out in public and to the next dance. Isn’t it funny how the devil always comes up to you with a flower and a smile?

It was around that time that a fellow classmate of mine (also from a troubled home) was bragging about how she had sex for the first time. In my young mind, I thought that if I did what the big girls do, he would surely take me out in public. So at twelve years old, I was going to try having sex not compemplating what that really was or what could happen if I got pregnant. The next night I snuck out with R, I found myself down in the basement of his house in his bedroom. I will never forget that room for the rest of my life. I did not know what to do at all. I knew that he would put his penis inside of me but I did not know that he would MOVE THAT THING AROUND IN THERE! I told him I wanted to try it, but if I didn’t like it, I wanted to stop. The deal was to put it in a little and see if I wanted to continue. He agreed. I anticipated something special and loving. He was not gentile and kind at all. He rammed it all the way in. At that point, I panicked and knew I could not continue. I yelled “Stop, Stop!! It hurts!” He didn’t care. He forced me to keep going and finished inside of me. It sucks to even write this. At twelve, I did not know what just happened to me and thought that it had to be my fault. I didn’t know that I could not legally consent to sex at that age. I am stuck forever with therape of myself as a minor, being my first time. No wonder I am so angry.

I left all 3 boys alone after that but never quite got over T. When I got to high school and became fourteen years old, T came back around and was trying to get back with me since he found out that R had actually had sex with me (willingly or not). I fell for it but had learned my lesson. This time, I was not going to have sex until he took me out in public. He did for a few weeks but when I continued to refuse sex with him, he raped me in the back seat of a car with two other kids in the front seat. Those kids never even helped me. As I wrote in my last blog, all of them went to school the next day and ruined my reputation. Now I was the school slut. It was unbelievable. M also came around one more time. I told him after one date that didn’t end the way he wanted either, that I was going to tell his girlfriend about all of it. He threatened me with violence if I were to ever tell anyone. After that, I left them all alone for good.

Funny at fourteen and still underage, my first cousin on a visit to his family noticed somehow that I was sexualized and decided to take a chance with me as well. He did everything but have intercourse with me. I guess his conscience was bothering him. You should have seen the look on his face years later when I showed up to visit him, his ultra-Christian wife and three children. I never did confront him but his reaction to seeing me was priceless. Some may say it was just kids exploring, but he was seventeen at the time. He knew better.

Since being at my own school sucked, I was lucky enough to find friends that went to other surrounding schools. I was eventually going to double homecomings and prom dances with boys that were very nice to me. Unfortunately, into adulthood, I once again became attracted to abusive males and the story of my abuse continued for many more years.

Note: I left out the real names of my offenders because the statute of limitations has long past and I do not want any sort of reaction or retaliation to effect my family that still lives in that small town.