A couple of times I began a post on this topic, only to delete it. I knew I was not ready to share. I do not know if I am even now, but I will.
I felt the need to be a bit stronger in my recovery in order to talk on my blog about the "effects of being sexually abused." Even now as I type this post, God is letting me slowly feel again. Anxiety is surfacing, palms sweating as I begin to type and share about my abuse. I am hesitant. Do not like to unravel pain.
Unfortunately, my first sexual experience which paved the way to my dysfunction in this area came at a very young age (9-10) from my older brother. My mind at that young of age could not grasp what he was doing to me, and let alone the effects it would have on me years later. I did not know any better. I trusted him. I did what he wanted. Until he wanted more. Then I started resenting the fact, and began hiding, only to be found.
Our household was filled with porno magazines that my father would buy. I believe everyone in my family, except my mother, would look at them. I do know Phillip (first boyfriend at 12) and I would look at the pictures on many occasions. He even became addicted as he would always say for me to go inside my house and get them out so we could look at them. As best we could understand at our age we would have conversations about sex and what we saw in the pictures.
Since going to t. I am starting to question why my brother did what he did. Not making excuses for him, no, no, no. But, also realizing he was subject to the same crap I had available to me which was porn. He was at the ripe age at that time for experimenting, being four years older than I.
As I got older and became more involved with boys in high school, I did not resist their advances. Thinking this was the norm, I felt obligated for them to take advantage of me. Even if I felt afraid. I just "thought" I had to let them have their way. Underneath stairwells at school was a popular place of intimate secrecy. My mind was skewed. Fear always envelope me when it came to sex. I would panic.
Then in my early twenties, (after becoming a Christian) at this point I had already become so isolated, so very fearful and set in my ways in order to cope with my pain and insecurities of the past, that once in a blue moon when a man would pay attention to me, that I would allow, I would actually go out on a date. I could now use the excuse that I was a Christian and that I would not engage in any promiscuity. Regardless of being confident with that, I still could not handle any relationship. I thought I was mature enough now to get past the fear of intimacy. It was only worse now. So, after one date, I booked. I hid. I blamed myself for not being able to function normally in a relationship. I failed. I played endless tapes in my head that I was so very screwed up. I was a mess.
Into my late twenties early thirties, after moving back to Florida and getting more involved in Christian activities at church and their single ministry, ironically enough is where I got my two marriage proposals from Christian men. Ironically, because both of those proposals came after two or three dates. Since I was so very shallow in my thinking, I attracted the same. Typical conversations I would have with these men would be extremely surface. I did not know how to be real. Our dates would consist of superficial pleasantries and would be considered meaningful conversations. And then to be asked if I would marry them on the account of "how is the weather" kind of relationship. I don't think so!! Would NEVER Work!
Still it goes deeper. Much deeper. The fact was, I knew I was not capable of any healthy relationship. What my brother did to me messed my idea of what sex was supposed to be. Instead, I believed and feared my insecurities of sex would ruin the marriage. I based marriage solely on sex. Could not even grasp the concept that marriage was so much more than sex. Only because all the years I was isolated and fearful, I was not able to develop relationally.
Over the years now, I have had many many opportunities to reflect back on my life. What I could have been initially. The realization of not being able to function in a relationship hurts me terribly. Hurts that I was robbed of my innocence.
I want to be married. But, I cannot even grasp what "love" is and feels like. I avoid saying many times the words "I love you." I hear those words said among people. Sometimes I wonder if they are just throwing it out there. Do they actually feel love for this person they say it to? I just do not know! It hurts that I feel so detached in this area. Frustrating!!
I cannot even say to God that I love Him. Does not mean in the very depths of my soul that I do not love Him. I just cannot express love, as I have never properly had it from the male gender. It was corrupted. I missed out on possible healthy potential relationships because of being sexually violated and the neglect by my father.
So at this part of my juncture as painful as it can be, I continue to deal with my singleness.
As most of you know, I have been asking and praying to be filled with unbelievable joy from the Lord and develop more intimacy with Him.
In my singleness, I try and allow myself to focus on being content in my relationship with the Lord. I know in 1 Corinthians 7 there is a lot of talk about focusing on pleasing the Lord and that even singleness can be the norm for happiness.
May be. But it is still hard and painful.