Random Blog Pedophile: My Story

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Monday, February 12, 2007

My Story

It was Sunday, My younger Brother and I were getting ready to see daddy. We haven’t seen him in many months. Since my mom and dad’s divorce when I was 1 years old, we only got to see him on special occasions and today was one of those occasions.

Mom dressed us in our best shabby hand me downs, combed our hair and gave us each a dime to make us feel important because we were going to the movies!

I heard the horn blast, “daddy is here”. I said as I ran out the door and got into the car and was ready for a great time with daddy when he turned around and said to me, “get out of my car, I will not be seen with you dressed like that, you are bums like your mother”!

I was 5 years old and remember it as if it happened yesterday.

For years I wondered what I did so wrong that my own Father didn’t like me or see that I was important. I tried tirelessly to win his approval though out my years as a child and into manhood. To him I was nothing and never will be so; I took my business to town.

I believe this is when I became vulnerable to the pedophile that raped me when I was 5 years old until I was 15 years old. Maybe I just wanted the attention. Maybe I liked it. I don’t know for sure but what I do know is that those years of molestation made me feel like a pig. I still feel like a pig and I am now in my 40’s. Will I ever get over feeling like I need the approval of others? When will I be normal? How long must I be shameful when its time for me to enjoy intimacy? Should I tell anyone or will they say I should have known better at age 10, 12, 13, 14 or 15?

I am now able to talk about this and I can say “It’s not my fault”! I did nothing wrong.

I am angry, hurt, confused and my Father died when I was 30 and I will never get to hear the words I longed for, “I love you and you make me proud”

I must have heard it from my molester a hundred times.

Did you See it coming?

See me Dad? I am dressed like a clown.
Everyone loves clowns.
Why don’t you Dad?
The rapist likes me.

See me Dad? I am dressed like a medic.
Everyone loves medics.
Why don’t you dad?
The sadness likes me.

See me Dad? I am dressed like the Army
Everyone likes the Army.
Why don’t you Dad?
The drug likes me.

See me Dad? I am dressed like the important people
Everyone likes important people.
Why don’t you Dad?
The Anger Likes me.

See me Dad? I am dressed like the Christian
Everyone likes Christians.
Why don’t you Dad?
The rage likes me.

See me Dad? I am dressed like the mourner
Everyone likes the mourner.
Why don’t you Dad?
The Depression likes me.

See me Dad? I am dresses like the monster.
Nobody likes monsters.
Don’t you hate monsters too?
See me now Dad? See me?


Wayne said...

Nice work, hope we gets some answers

Wayne E

Danny said...

We will ;)

Anonymous said...

You wrote this story really good, and it will stay in my mind for the next few days together with the poem (or however you call it in English).

Can you please tell me what's your sexual orientation right now?

Danny said...

It was confusing for a while.
Because of the years of homosexual activity (abuse) growing up, I did have sexual fantasies about the same sex. So you can see how one can be confused.

Was I homosexual or Heterosexual and were the thoughts of same sex activities just a conditioning factor stemming from the abuse or actual desire for the same sex intimacy?

It took some time to sort out but at the end of the day... I define my sexuality by what sex gender I want to kiss and cuttle with. Though I have still at times thoughts of same sex activity, I do not want to kiss or cuttle a male like I do a female.

I am Heterosexual.


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