Updated: Jan 19, 2019
I have the most uncomfortable relationship with receiving oral. It’s something that I’ve certainly always been aware of, but because of its nature, I’ve pushed it to the back of my mind and categorized it as a file that need not to be opened. I was about 6-7 years old the first time I’d ever received oral sex. It was a friend of my mom’s named “Mr. Leo”. It was a semi frequent occurrence. Almost any time he was over at my mom’s house and I was there, he made a point to touch me in some kind of way. The time that sticks out most, I had come home from school, and he was over hanging out with my mom. At some point, he called me into the kitchen to talk. He sat me on the kitchen sink, and began to run the water. With the water running, he placed his hand underneath the faucet, then proceeded to put his hands up my jumper and molest me. After his hands were done, he put his face under my jumper, and proceeded to give me oral sex. It lasted for what felt like an eternity to me. I don’t know how long he was there. I do remember that when my sister got home, she came rushing up the stairs and he quickly moved away. Not too far but far enough to make it look like nothing happened. My sister knew though. She just couldn’t prove it. I was too little to understand what was going on, and to express what he was doing. Like many other pedophiles do, he made a pact with me to not say anything. I was silent about what he did to me, until I was 17 years old. I never said a word about it to anyone because I didn’t want to think about it. It was kind of horrifying and also made me feel gross and semi at fault. My mom told me he was in the hospital and wanted me to visit him. At that point I was 17 and didn’t care to hide what happened anymore. I told her I hoped he died a slow and painful death and I had no desire to ever see him again. He molested me when I was a little girl and I didn’t care if he was on his deathbed. Good. Because of him, oral sex makes me so tense and uneasy. The thought of it, is not something that brings me joy or excitement in the slightest bit. It kind of makes me panic. It reminds me of being a little girl and not having any control or power and I don’t like it. I can’t seem to make myself comfortable and it doesn’t matter how much I try to. It just doesn’t happen.
At 26 years old, I'm still uncomfortable. Despite that though, I am incredibly grateful for the space that I’m in as an adult. To be able to have these conversations and understanding is so much more valuable and necessary than I ever realized. I’ve lived a life that’s filled with traumatic experiences and yet not a single one of them define who I am as a person. I know my value and my worth and not a single one of my less than stellar life experiences changes that.
I found myself at a point where I was finally ready to share some of the details of what happened. We seem to be starting a new culture of holding pedophiles, rapists, and all others of the like, accountable for their fucked-up actions. It’s heartwarming in a sense to see so many women and men share their stories. Knowing that you’re not alone in these traumatic experiences makes all the difference in the world. I’m generally a pretty private person, and I keep a lot of my life traumas to myself. I don’t think it’s necessary to share and relive everything. There are things that I think the world needs to know about though. Child molestation being one of them. As a society we have to do better to protect our children. We also have to believe them when they do speak up. I may not have said anything, but there are kids who do vocalize the abuse they’re experiencing, only to be scolded and ignored. I know it’s hard to believe that grown ass men and women are violating children the way that they are, but it’s a reality we have to face.
Celebrate your victories, your growth, and most importantly your life as a whole. You've come so far and there's still so much more ground to cover. You're only just getting started. Life is filled with so much joy and abundance, you just have to keep going.