I didn’t think I’d do this so soon…
Oh boy. Where to start, unfortunately… It really has been an accumulation of events over the years. Starting from the young and innocent and naive years. Very young years. My personality had actually split, dissociative disorder, sometime when I was a very young girl. My mind has not let me know exactly why this happened. There was an uncle that may have been a factor, but I’m not too sure of that. It may have been just the benign fact that my sister was born 13 months after me, and I was not able to fully bond with my mother during those formative years when I needed to. Whatever the reason, the little girl in me, Amanda, was kept holed up in a room by her Grandfather, in order to protect her. Those two separate identities were very much a part of me until recently. Until I was able to recognize them and assimilate them into my true self, because they are a part of me still. It’s an amazing psychological phenomenon that I have yet to fully explore. That said, I don’t think I’ll ever know the cause of that, as much as I know it is real for me.
Let’s see, I can remember being a Blue Bird (similar to Girl Scouts) and taking a trip to NYC for the Christmas holiday. I went away from the group to throw something in the trash, and a man came up near me, and I remember my mother coming over to me with a terrified look in her eyes…
I remember being a freshman in high school, hanging out with my best friend’s boyfriend, one day when my best friend was at an exam… We laid down for a nap and he was spooning me, in his room. He tried to kiss me before I left. I remember feeling so weird about that, but he said that it was OK. I was 15.
I remember a friend of said best friend’s boyfriend coming to get me one day off of school. Taking me back to his place. They were seniors or had graduated already. He wanted me to touch his dick. To suck it. I had not done either of that before, and I was not going to do that then, though I did a lil bit. I had him drive me home, and I hated him for that.
I remember the summer before my senior year of college, when I spent half the summer in Colorado, and then the remaining half taking a class. I lived in a spare bedroom of a couple who also had another room rented out to another student. They (he and she) ran an organic garden business from their home, but I always felt weird there, for the six weeks I was there. They had said no smokers, but I was, but not in the house, of course. When I left, the he was there and he hugged me. I felt him hard him against me. He tried to kiss me in the mouth. I was appalled. He asked me wasn’t I into free love? Nope. I lit up a cig as I drove away…
In my youth, I used sex as a validation for myself, because I was unable to validate myself on my own. It didn’t help in the long run…
I had this boyfriend, Jimmy, when I was 17 – 18. I really loved Troy, but he couldn’t go beyond a certain point with me, cuz it’d be too much emotionally for him. So I found sex elsewhere. Jimmy dated raped me. I don’t know if he ever knew that. But I know that I said No, more than once. I can still picture his bedroom, where it happened. And I think I became pregnant from that. I’ll never know for sure, but that is what I feel I know. I had a good group of friends and a cousin who helped me do what I had to do. I found out on a Wednesday, and I had the abortion that Saturday, the day before Mother’s Day. As I’ve said, that irony is not lost on me. I was ready to go into college, to begin my life… There was no way I could have a child at that time. And it’s sad to me sometimes, as I’m 36 now. I had a chance, but it wasn’t right. Will it ever be the right time for me to be a mom? I honestly don’t know. All I do know is that I needed that option back then.
Anyway, I’m sorry this is so long. When I moved in with Seth, my ex-husband and current best friend, he recognized some of the effects of my trauma. He’s a feminist-type of guy, he is very special to me. He saw the effects of the rape that I couldn’t see, and he helped me get in touch with that part of me. We sought counseling, where I discovered all the effects of my past, and how they were affecting my present, and my future. He helped me get through all of it and to recognize what it all had done to me. I owe him my life. He knows that. I am so grateful that he, my ex-husband, has been able to help me overcome some of my demons. The demons will always be there, but they are not such an affect as they have been. I credit Seth for helping me with that. For that, I will always be grateful, and I’m glad that he knows that.
This has been difficult. Not quite as difficult as I thought it might be. It kinda just all flowed out… But I am very thankful for being able to share this. And I thank you all for sharing your stories. They need to be told…
You are so strong and loving and caring…we are here with you.
For all the times we didn’t know what to call the undue pressure or coercion. You do not walk alone Sherm…you walk with all of us. You are a sister fighting for all the other women without a voice.
Just know that you are wrapped in love and caring arms.
Hugs my soul sister…miles do not separate our hearts.
Thank you so much sweetie. I’m so crying now. But it something we need to do sometimes. Hugs to you too sweetie… It’s so unfortunate we share these pains… But yes, we need to speak out. I love you honey…
Silence is like chains of doubt and shame.
Welcome to freedom, (((((((Sherm)))))).
I sit here in awe of the strong people on this site. In awe of you shermanesque. Maybe I will have to write my story as well.
And you are so right about the demons…sometimes they are muted and distant…sometimes they are clawing your mind raw.
It’s been good for me (i can’t speak for everyone here) to read everyone’s stories, it really does help to know that you are not alone.
I’ve been trying to figure out just what to say in a comment that would be worthy of your diary. Or militarytracy’s. Or Sallycat’s. Or Damnit Janet’s.
And I can’t really think of anything profound. I’m much better at juvenile snark and humor than I am at laying meaningful things out there.
So I will just say thank you for sharing your story. But story seems like such an inappropriate word. It is not just a story; it is part of your life, part of who you are.
Let me amend : Thank you, shermanesqe, for sharing a part of you with us.
Oh, sweetie. I feel very big-sisterly towards you, you know. You were still so torn up when I first met you through your postings,and you’ve shared so much of your journey. You’ve come so far, it seems, and into such happiness.
Many hugs to you!
Thank you Deb. I am so happy now, tis true. It’s got a great deal to do with communities such as this. They have helped and supported me tremendously. And an endless thank you to all who have spoken to me here. Truly, I feel blessed and am in awe of the kinships we have. All I can say right now is thank you…
remember being in touch with my own sexuality until I was about 22 or 23…..and I can’t say for certain what changed but I did a lot of reading pertaining the womens movement and womens issues. I think that helped me a lot. The silence about sex and sexual coercion and molestation and rape seemed to go hand in hand with some kind of freakish numbed blackout that existed within my family and seemingly with a lot of the general population that surrounded me. If rape is an act of violence and war against women to me now……..I remember being totally pissed off at 22 about a totally different war that had been spoon fed to me within all the silence since the cradle. It was the war between the hetro sexes……boys can’t control themselves and are uncivilized pigs from hell and girls must stop them and prevent harm and irreversible damage from happening to the whole species by clamping those knees together. It was a freak show! Nobody ever sat me down and said that boys have a sexuality in their teens that tends to be a little overly large and that this can happen to women too in their 30’s and 40’s, but essentially we all have our sexualities and we negotiate things sexually and get our sexual intimacy needs met in such a fashion. It was a fucking war and the people that I desired to care for me and know me were my enemy seemingly the moment I was potty trained! In my early 20’s I managed to make a kind of peace about it all pertaining to my myself and my male peers. In my late 20’s my friends dad’s bent over fixing something and in a flash I thought to myself, “Wow, Stephs dad has a great ass!” It totally freaked me out. In choosing between poking my eyes out with knitting needles or researching the subject I chose to research the subject and thereby discovered that now my sexuality was amping up a bit and it was normal to think those things but that didn’t mean that I needed to act on them, well fucking whew! Sometimes I wonder though if any of the women in my family were ever really in touch with their sexuality very much if at all….I had almost nothing to go on.
Thanks for sharing all of this. Hugs to you! Now you’ve got me thinking about elaborating upon my earlier comments in SallyCat’s diary.
I’m just going to open my virtual arms and squeeze you tight. {{{sherm}}}
I admire your courage, your story is hard to read as it hits home — actually, it’s all the stories: Janet’s story, Tracy’s story, SallyCat’s story, sherm’s story. You’ve opened doors that (for me) have been shut a long time. My thoughts: “I’m not the only one. I’m not the only one! I’m not the only one. How do we stop it…”
Those stories you’ve all shared with us today are so terrible (for what was) and yet so wonderful (for what has become). We are so blessed to have you all here.
Like I said in DJ’s diary earlier, it fills me w/ hope knowing that you are all in our world — that the people in our community here at BT (regardless of gender) are out there making the world a better place for us all.
Yes, the stories. I read them all tonight – half a dozen of them. And all the comments to a diary at… another place.
And I cried. I enjoy empathizing and crying. I cry easily, and with dignity, if I may say so. It’s my proudest achievement. I emerged from a brutal childhood as ice cold as any killer. I began to turn human in college – got interested in current events, politics, and being a thinker was drawn by the thinkers – the Democrats. Still quite cold though, at 20.
The final thaw occurred when I realized that I had one chance only to give my children a loving childhood. And that realization was my guide for many years. They are older now, 15 and 20, and they are very nice people, and strong. Maybe it worked.
Anyway, there it is since we were telling some stories.
Look, I’m just some middle aged middle class guy, and I’m not going to presume to claim any real understanding of the deeply personal stories told here tonight.
But I sense the raw emotion, the pain, the fear and the rage. And the courage. I thank you all for showing your courage that I may understand more.
I can see better now that the ghouls in South Dakota are piling on their own particular brand of cruel pain onto women who are already suffering from terror and despair I can only try to imagine.
Great comment, psyclism. Thank you. The courage of many of the great women at BT is what stands out for me, too. Oh, and I’m glad you cry: it’s something most of us males need to do more easily/often. Hugs to you, as well!
BTW, welcome… I think you’re a recent arrival at the pond.
their sons one thing, never mind if he never learns which fork to use for which course, let him live his life unsure of the difference between effect and affect, Iran and Iraq, Beethoven and Mozart, none of that matters a cheneyfart if he will learn that when a lady says “NO” it means “NO.”
Whether she is your sweetheart, whether you are engaged, whether she is the wife and the mother of your seventeen children, whatever liberties she may have permitted, or be permitting, at the time the “NO” is uttered. It is the penultimate exercise of the female prerogative to change her mind, and he who fails to heed it is no different from the brute who knocks his victim to the ground in a dark parking lot.
Thank you for your courage, shermanesqe, and may it inspire your sisters, and give them the same courage, to say NO, to obtain the necessary medical treatment if they are victims of a crime of violence, and to tell their stories, and in the telling, vanquish the demons, and inspire others in their turn, for sadly, every few minutes, there is another lady who will need inspiring.
a potential agenda for the SoCal meetup (three more weeks! three more weeks!), I hearby move the first hour be spent in a giant healing group hug…
Got to find a decent set of speakers for the iPod; between the two of us we’ll come up with a set of party tunes (you are still coming…?)…
Hi sweetie. Big hugs to you. I don’t think I’m going… 🙁 There’s been big changes in my life in the past one month. I’m sorry to say I’m not going to make it. I haven’t said that yet. Boo. 🙁 But that said, the changes are good, so yay for that.
Well, we’ll just have to raise a Cone of Power and send the energy out to you and anyone else who needs it (I’ve been doing some reading up on Wicca/Earth Religions as part of my research for the book that I’m trying to get out of my head and onto paper/computer)…
Well, one of these days I’ll have to wander back Eastward…
I’ll get out there one of these days soon. I have family in the LA area that I’ve never visited there. It won’t be long, and I’ll be sure to let you guys know.
(((Sherm))) you are an inspiration. It takes tremendous courage to open your heart to other people, and it always has a tremendous effect on them.
We are all deeply affected by each others stories, and all anxious to see what form that inspiration will take.
You’re a brave one you are.
It’s no coincidence to me that this site is clearly the home of the strongest women I know. It’s also no coincidence that I’ve found it to be my home too. Theses past two days reading your words and the words of the others has been reaffirming for me and my choice to remain here. It’s because of you. It’s because of all of you. You amaze me with your strength.
I hope you know that a part of me is with you too.
Heck, it’s a good thing I’m a big guy cuz each of you here are pulling me towards you and I’m imagining little particles of love flying from me and spreading out across the landscape. Landing near all of you that I so deeply treasure.
Chin up kid.
You’re a beauty.
Could I please be allowed to give super’s comment a 44 rating, rather than just a 4?
Thank you sweetie. Honestly and truly. I treasure you too, that I do.
Thank you Shermanesque, your courage and strength shine through…
And I’m particularly impressed that you have a best friend who is an ex-husband. You must both be very well-adjusted people…
Hugs and admiration!
Tee-hee. Well-adjusted you say? Well, let’s just say we’re both big huge goofballs who have chosen to let our love for each other shine through, even though we were incompatible as husband and wife. And thank you…
Awwright, you must both be big huge goofballs, but it is a wonderful thing to do to recognise one form of relationship doesn’t work and transform it into another, better, relationship. 🙂
A part of me just hates those guys in SD who have torn things open again for so many of us. Another part of me knows that healing from this happens slowly, layer by layer, and that this may have allowed many women an opportunity to get to the next layer that needed to be tended to and healed.
But I have NEVER, and I mean never, in all these years of hearing these stories, and facilitating groups, seen a MIXED gender setting where it was safe enough for women to do this. Never! These stories usually only get told in extremely safe women-only settings.
This just blows me away folks. And it gives me an immense jolt of hope that I badly needed right now. If men and women can come together to this remarkable degree to hear these stories with tightly linked arms and hearts like this and know it’s safe!! ..then we finally are indeed on our way.
What an gift you all are to me.
were beginning to move towards. Those who were ready are moving into this new area fairly easily and those who were already uncomfortable with where things were are totally losing it and freaking out and desperately attempting to turn back time. I have no idea what terror it is that they run from right now? In your Call to Arms Diary though when I was crying reading “our guys” names up there it hit me that this is huge for me and probably overall HUGE.
I think it IS huge, Tracy. Bad news always rises to the top first, with good news always taking lots longer to surface. I keep thinking this pond is only one small "dot"..and that whatever good is happening here MUST also be happening in an endless numver of other "dots" all over this land. And each "dot" is so desperately needed and welcome, it is being well fed and cared for..so each can grow bigger. Maybe the time is coming with these dots will be so big they b begin running into each other, huh?
You are just one special human being. I nor anyone can take away your pain; but I can promise you this. There is one man who loves you for you, who has looked into your eyes to see your soul and wants to hold and heal it just because he loves you, all of you not, just parts. You know why I can say that. I’ve said it everywhere we are, I love you kid and soon we shall write a better story together.
Thank you honey. I love you too. Our story is going to be wonderful… It already is.
Ah sweet sister, thank you too for sharing. I do know that disonnect. Man, do I know it. And the silence. Why are we so ashamed? Why are we taught to be ashamed? There was a mexican gardner at a very good family friend’s house. I’d kmown him for years as a little girl. I looked forward to visiting that house because I would hang out with Jose and walk the beautiful grounds with him and we would catch lizards and pick fruit from the trees to bring up to the house. I practiced my spanish and he practiced his english. Then I hit puberty. Suddenly he looked at me different. Leered. Tried to pull me close and kiss me. I was devastated. Ran away and never said a word of course. I mean, it was my fault for being a woman now, right? Those wonderful childhood memories just washed away in utter shame and fear.
Wow – I have not thought about that in years. All these stories have brought it back now. Hmmmm..need to talk over this one with Marcus because I think it answers a lot of my own questions about myself and why at 41 I still feel somewhat ashamed about my own sexual needs. Thankfully I have him to talk to. I am glad that you had Seth and now have someone else to take care of you too.
Hugs and love.
Hugs and love to you too my sweet sister. I don’t know why we were taught to be ashamed. Ashamed of being a woman. Ashamed to speak. Ashamed of our bodies. My mother spoke about sex and menstruation with me before I started exactly once. I also got a set of books, if I had any other questions. The subject(s) were taboo, even though that was never even said. The atmosphere and environment while growing up was just that, shame. Fear. Silence. No more, no way.
I think you just discovered something there Bina. Early on in my relationship with Seth, I hated BJs. Loathed them. Years later, it was almost a ‘duh’ moment, but with Seth’s help, I figured a lot of my sexual issues out. Very freeing. And then there’s my ‘You’ who has helped me discover even more of my sexual side. I celebrate that now. I revel in it. I am thankful for it. I am just happy to have made it to where I am, cuz there have been many days where I didn’t think I’d make it. Thank you sweetie. I’m glad you have Marcus to talk with too.
mine. So my dear lady I understand everything you’ve been through in your life. Just know that telling your story has made me come to face so many hurts and troubles of my own. Very courageous lady. Thank you
Oh Sherm, what else is there to say to you except that my love and hugs come out to you. I can not top anything that others here have said. You and all the others are such brave women. I knew I had found the right path to walk when I came here. YOu and all the rest make me proud to know you all. Hugs, Sherm…Lifes best to you Dear One. xoxo
To one degree or another, it’s happened to all of us, hasn’t it. When I was young and vulnerable, I wanted to be loved. I had sex with lots of men because they wanted to. I had no sexual feeling until my mid forties. But I thought that if I did what they wanted, they’d stay around long enough to come to love me. They didn’t. I was just another notch in the headboard. The more unloved I felt, the more eagar I was to please. Some of those men forced me to do things I hated, many more just went ahead and screwed me even though I was crying. I learned not to cry. Then I learned to pretend I liked it. I pretended well enough to get married. After I was widowed, I became one of the fortunate few with the freedom to be celibate. If it is a joy to make love with someone you desire, it is equally joyous to be free of unwanted sex.
We have heard the stories of many brave women here, and comments of comfort and support from men and women. I wonder if these revelations have caused any man to examine his own past behavior. Our culture celebrates “players”, that is men who have sex with as many women as possible by whatever means that work. We live in a predator/prey sexual dynamic. Surely, with the number of people posting here, there must be men who recognise that this cannot go on without at least tacit support and passive participation from a great many men.
I remember some of those men who just kept pumping away while I cried. Do they remember me ?
How can any man read these tortured stories and not examine or re-examine their own behavior? I think there are a few of us who were blessed with an upbringing that taught us from the start how to treat people, women and men, as equals. I wasn’t one of them unfortunately. It’s been a difficult process coming to terms with the way those ingrained beliefs have damaged me and damaged past relationships. No, actually, they weren’t beliefs. They were just the way things were as a matter of function. Or disfunction. But there must have been some grain of clarity or good embedded somewhere within me that enabled me to challenge that disfunction.
It’s not easy to lay this out here. And maybe this isn’t the place. But you asked.
Thank you.
I know there are good men in the pond who look back on their past behavior with the same “what the hell was I thinking ?” disbelief that I do. For years I lied to every man I hoped to form a loving relationship with. That was nuts. This profound disconnect between men and woman has caused terrible pain, loss and grief.
I am not surprised that you had the courage to speak out, super. Your thoughtfulness, kindness and compassion shine through your posts.
The healing will come when men and women both start to tell the truth to each other. We can do that here.
No…thank you.
You’re right, we can speak here. It’s a safe place for all of us. My view of things is still very complicated and sometimes feels impossible to express.
I know the feeling of not being honest with oneself and to partners in an effort to find love. That defect is deep within me still. The truth is that for the longest time I felt threatened by women. I understand now where much of that came from but thats another story entirely. It’s sad that so many people waste years looking for love in all the wrong places.
I used to think that sex was love because I felt like offering your body to another person was the single most giving gesture of devotion and trust that anyone could make. Then finally after having to patch up one broken heart after another, I realized that sex is different than making love. Making love is where the deepest, to me, connection is made between two people who desire to be as close to each other, even within each other as they can be.
There, Ive said too much :o)
No, you haven’t.
We have come by different roads from very different places to the same conclusion. There is nothing as profound as making love with no boundries, no otherness, no barriers, and no self-consciousness. There is no joy, no peace, no happiness like it.
It is that reverence for the mutuality of sexual love that makes my whole spirit revolt when sex is twisted into evil, debased into triviality, or destroyed by violence. As a feminist, I’ve been accused of hating sex when I’ve objected to it’s use as casual, emotionless recreation. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Oh Sweetie… I know. It’s so terrible, the paradigms we were brought up with. Sex = love. No fucking way. Sex = validation, no fucking way. It’s so sad, but it’s being brought to the forefront finally. It must be. We are not the meat that we were taught that we are… Hugs to you.
Hugs back, sherm. Our daughters are years ahead of where we were at their ages.