Fourth revision, July 24, 2010
Part 1 Ė The Early Years
My name is Mike. I was born in England. My dad was in the Air Force, stationed in the U.K. where he met and married my mom. When I was 2 years old my dad was transferred to the Pacific Northwest of the U.S. and so we moved to Washington State. I grew up with an older brother who is 5 years older than me. For a brief time, another older half brother lived with us. He was about 14 years older than me and moved out after graduating high school a year or two after we moved to Washington State.
The earliest childhood memory I have is sexual in nature. I recall I was still in diapers, 2-3 years old. I was in my crib or bed crying and trying to take off my diaper. I somehow got an erection while doing this and quite accidently learned how to masturbate. From then on I was hooked. At about the age of 3 or 4 I was exposed to pornography. I believe I was in my brotherís bedroom. I donít remember if I accidentally found it or if someone showed it to me. Iíve never forgotten the images I saw though. They are permanently burned into my memory. The pictures were B&W and it was some pretty hard-core stuff. I remember being curious about what the people in the pictures were doing. All I can think is that this was my eldest brotherís pornography because after he left I didnít come across pornography again until I met perp number one when I was 10.
I also had a lot of freedom in the city of 5000 where we lived. My parents had no problem with me being on my own. I was allowed the run of the town. In fact, the police brought me home one time when they found me on my own downtown. I was probably 4 or 5 then. I donít remember it being any big deal then but my therapist says that was gross neglect on my parentís part.
Because of behavior problems and an inability to complete my class work. I was held back in second grade. I donít remember why I was this way but I was irritable and quarrelsome with classmates and even aggressive sometimes. I only know this from reading my school report cards from second grade.
Part 2 Ė Pre and Early Teens
When I was 9 my family moved from Washington State to California. It was summer when we moved and I was able to make friends pretty quickly. Within a few months of the move I would have my first sexual encounter. It was with a new friend I met playing Little League baseball. We were on the same team. His name is Mike too. Although we were the same age, he was in the grade ahead of me. One day Mike and I were playing at my house. Both my parents were at work so we were alone. Mike suggested we get naked. I donít remember my reaction to that other than I know I agreed. Mostly we ran around the house just being silly however, Mike said he wished his cousin were here with us because she would get naked with us. The next thing we did was lay naked on the couch. Mike got on top of me and placed his penis between my legs and began ďhumpingĒ me. There was no penetration. Again, I donít remember my thoughts about all of this. I know I did not initiate any of it but I donít recall being uncomfortable with any of it. I think I enjoyed it. For years I simply believed this first encounter as experimentation but given the direction it went I am not sure. Mike and I would have a number of similar encounters like this.
About a year after moving to California my parents bought a house a few blocks where we were living, which was a rented house. It is here that I met perp number one. His name is Les. I had repressed most of the memories of this until I was 27 years old. Les lived across the street. He was about 2-3 years older than me and much bigger and taller than me. Right from the time my family moved into the neighborhood Les and I hung out together. I kind of had an uneasy feeling about Les but I thought it was pretty cool that an older guy wanted to spend time with me. Almost immediately he talked to me about sex. I hadnít started puberty yet and the subject of sex was a mysterious and new to me despite what Mike and I had done. Les talked about sex a lot. He bragged about how big his penis was. He actually told me his penis was big because he had elephantitis. Eh?? Les also bragged about how often he had sex with his girlfriend, who I never met. He also told me that the more you have sex the larger your penis will get. He even bragged about the reason he said his hair was blond and his eyebrows were brown. He said it was because his mom had sex with two different guys when he was conceived. The thought of that just blew me away. Les used to show me his porn magazines and once even convinced me to watch a porno movie with him. I was so scared. I didnít like it at all. When we were watching it I could see my dad through Lesí living room window working in the front yard of my house across the street. I felt dirty, guilty and ashamed. I genuinely feared that my dad would see me watching this porn movie with Les. At that same time Les urged me to drink alcohol from his dadís liquor cabinet with him. I didnít want to do that either. Then Les wanted to masturbate with me. I resisted. He kept insisting. He told me that I didnít have to ďgo all the wayĒ. I didnít know what that meant then. When Les told me what it meant it grossed me out. I thought, ďYou mean more than just pee comes out of it? Ick!Ē I thought about that for days and it still seemed gross to me. Anyways, I finally relented and we began masturbating together. The first time Les saw my penis he immediately made fun of it. He embarrassed me by calling my penis a microscopic morsel! He also poked fun that I hardly even had peach fuzz down there. This embarrassed me even more. Here was this older guy who I looked up to making fun of my pre-pubescent body. I felt so ashamed. Next Les wanted to masturbate me and he wanted me to masturbate him. I didnít want to do it. But, again, Les persisted. I reluctantly did it and I hated it. There were other occasions with Les in his backyard fort where he had another porn stash. Much of what he did is hazy to me. It was mostly him masturbating me and vice versa as I recall except forÖ
Sometime later, when I was 12 or 13, me, Les and one of his friends who was Lesís age were in a field behind some bushes about a block away from my house. Suddenly Les and his friend grabbed my arms and legs, pulled me to the ground and began trying to pull my pants off. It all started as suddenly that I was completely caught off guard. I fought them with every ounce of strength I could muster. Les and his friend laughed at me as they continued trying to pull my clothes off. I fought and fought and fought them. They told me to quit fighting and stop being such a wus. I continued to fight them. I was terrified. I wondered what they were trying to do to me. I was humiliated by the thought of having my clothes ripped off my body. I still fought them. It seemed to go on forever. Then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. They didnít succeed in pulling my pants off. Having been defeated, Les and his friend continued to ridicule me. I donít know what they would have done had they succeeded. I didnít want to know. Were they trying to rape me or was it a juvenile prank or both? I donít know. I was so shamed and traumatized by what they tried to do to me that I resolved never to tell anyone about it, NEVER. After this I spent a lot less time with Les. The last time I visited Les at his house he was high on heroine. He offered some to me. I refused. I didnít have anything more to do with Les after this. I never told anyone about what Les did to me and through it, I developed shame for my body and I grew distant from my family. My family didnít seem to notice. That was fine by me though. I didnít want them to notice. I didnít want anyone to notice.
As I began going through puberty I felt even more shame and embarrassment over my body. I did not welcome the changes that puberty was thrusting onto me. Itís kind of weird. With all the ridicule I got from Les for being prepubescent youíd think Iíd welcome puberty but I did not. I was embarrassed when I started developing pubic, underarm and eventually, facial hair. I began puberty before a couple of my other friends and they also made fun of me for it. I'm sure their ribbing was probably out of envy but it still furthered my devastation and shame over my body. It was a confusing time for me, a confusing time that set me up for perp number two. He was quite different from Les. In many ways he was Lesís opposite.
Part 3 Ė Mid Teens
When I turned 15 my family moved again, to a house we had built about 45 miles away. There was a lot of crime in the vicinity where we lived across the street from Les. The final straw that prompted our move was a gun fight that almost took place on the street in front of our house. I witnessed it. Fortunately no shots were fired but I saw the guy pull a gun on another guy just before the other guy jumped into his car and sped off. Previous to this a police officer was killed by a sniper who had perched himself in an upper story apartment window a few blocks away. I walked past this apartment complex every day to and from school.
We moved to an entirely new community. It was in the desert and it was semi-rural. Even though I left my old friends behind, I liked the move. Being in the desert there was a lot of open land where I could ride my motorcycle. I could even ride my motorcycle on back trails all the way up into the mountains to Lake Arrowhead and even Big Bear Lake. I loved this new independence.
Enter perp number two. When I turned 16 I was excited to land my first real job. Before that I had a paper route and for one summer I did odd jobs working for the general contractor that built our house. But all that was little kid stuff compared to clocking in and getting paid by the hour! Tim was an assistant manager where I worked. He was 23. He took an immediate interest in me. Tim quickly got me crossed trained on all the different jobs at the store and before I knew it I was promoted into a brand new position the store had never had before as a Crew Trainer. I was pretty proud about that. Soon Tim began asking me to do little favors for him while we were at work like take his car out to get washed. This made me feel special. No one had ever treated me like this before. It felt good. Tim also used to jokingly make sexual comments to me at work. He would say ďthatís what she saidĒ after something Iíd say that could be twisted into a sexual innuendo. It made me feel uncomfortable. Tim also invited me to lunch and to dinner and to the movies. We once went to an Angels baseball game and one time Tim took me to Universal Studios.
Soon I got another promotion, to Crew Chief. At work there were a lot of rumors about Tim being gay. Those rumors irritated me. Even my best friend from high school who worked at the same place made comments to me on occasion that people suspected that Tim and I had something going on. I hated him saying that. Eventually, Tim began inviting me over to his apartment. He just liked to talk, watch TV and he liked to sit close to me. He also would hug me. Except Timís hugs were creepy. As he would hug me, he would begin to tremor when he held me. Man this weirded me out. All of this was uncomfortable and confusing to me but still it felt good to get this attention I never had before. Tim seemed to genuinely enjoy being with me and I enjoyed his attention. I got very little attention from my family. Donít misunderstand. My family life wasnít bad, I knew I was loved and there was no abuse. We were just distant as a family. Tim, on the other hand, gave me attention. I was beginning to feel good about myself. I was willing to dismiss that some things he did made me uncomfortable.
I began coming over to Timís apartment more and more. At one point Tim asked if I would like to become his personal secretary. I didnít know what he was talking about. What would I do for him as a personal secretary? Who has a ďpersonalĒ secretary anyways??? I just dismissed the idea and never gave him an answer. He also told me that he couldnít wait until I turn 18. He said he would take me out to see a porno movie for my birthday. Tim also had this pretty hot, brand new sports car he would let me drive. I loved driving it. I couldnít see it then but as I collect my thoughts and write about these experiences I see clearly now how Tim was a classic example of a groomer. He was a perp who knew exactly what he wanted to the point of devising an intricate plan to win over my trust and affections. I didnít see it for what it was then.
As we spent more time on his couch together watching TV Tim began getting boulder. Instead of just sitting close to me, Tim wanted me to lie on the couch with my head in his lap while we watched movies. Often this would be after I had worked a late shift on a Friday or Saturday night and I would be tired. Tim would massage my shoulders. It felt good but I was uneasy with it. One night I was just on the verge of falling asleep with my head in his lap. Tim thought I was asleep. While he thought I was sleeping, Tim unbuckled my belt, unzipped my pants, pulled down my underwear and began touching me. I was petrified. I hated what he was doing to me but I didnít stop him. Instead, I dissociated. I was off in the corner while I watched Tim sexually abuse me. My penis became erect. Tim then leaned over and took my penis into his mouth. I donít remember how long he did this. I know that I didnít ejaculate. I hated it. Somehow I came out of my dissociative state and began rustling a bit like I was about to awaken from my pretend nap. Tim quickly stopped what he was doing to me and hastily zipped up my pants and tried buckling my belt. Then I completely snapped. I freaked. The best way I can describe how I reacted is that I became emotionally unglued. I rolled onto the floor and literally convulsed like I was having a seizure. I couldnít say a word. I had snapped emotionally and it scared Tim half to death. I was scared too. All he said was, ďIím so sorry, Iím so sorry.Ē He deserved it, that pig! I eventually regained some sort of composure and quickly gathered my stuff and got the hell out of there. I was shaking and crying all the way home. But, when I got home I began feeling bad for Tim. So, I called him to make sure he was ok. Why did I care? This man, my boss, had just sexually molested me, a minor, and I cared what he was feeling after I made a dramatic scene over this traumatic event. Just like with Less, I resolved never to tell anyone what Tim did to me either.
Shortly after this I got another promotion, this time to a shift manager and I asked for and got a transfer to another store that was just opening closer to my home. A bit later I did tell someone at work that Tim was gay. Tim soon quit and moved about 90 miles away. But, for some reason, I still remained friends with Tim. Although he never abused me again, I always felt uncomfortable with him.
Part 4 Ė Adulthood and Healing
So what have been the effects? I have never been able to have a mature intimate relationship with anyone. I have destroyed good friendships by developing unhealthy, emotional dependencies with my closest friends. I have never married and have never had any kids. Through the years I have hidden the pain. For over 30 years I was in denial about my childhood sexual abuse. Yet I could not deny the effects of the abuse although, I had struggled for an explanation. For much of my adulthood I have lived in isolation and attempt to drown my emotional pain in alcohol. I also developed an addiction to internet pornography that I am fighting. Within the last few years I have started to come out of my shell. I have a number of healthy, friendships with other guys. In the spring of 2008 I started dealing with the abuse and started working with a therapist who has a lot of experience with male CSA. This has turned out to be a huge can of worms though! I had no idea how much emotional pain I was holding back. Itís like the Hoover Dam has just been breached. Since coming out of denial I have had panic attacks, nightmares, social anxieties and triggers. Also, within three months of coming out of denial I lost my job of 16 years. All of this has taken me by surprise but with the much needed help, I am working through all of this. Painful as it is, it is good now to finally be able to work on getting all this crap out into the open.
Lately what I am finally beginning to work through is my lack of trust and fear of closeness with others. I donít know how long it will take and I donít know what the fix will be. I just need to remain open to the things I need to change and be willing to break out of my comfort zone in order to break down the walls Iíve used for most of my life to protect myself from the scary world all around me. One thing I have learned is the process of healing is an epic journey. Some have told me that there really is no end to it.
Thanks for reading. Please PM me your comments.
Edited by ModTeam (07/31/10 10:53 PM)
Edit Reason: Change of subject line at user request.