I was sexually abused when I was eleven. Even writing that is difficult. Big deal is the first thing I always seem to think about it. Mainly because I had forgotten about it. I am 21 now and up until recently (last few months) it hadn't occurred to me that it had effected me. I am an intelligent person and when I look at my life and see the person I turned out to be it is fairly obvious that something isn't right. A 21 year old male that has never had sex. Not only have I never had sex, Iíve never been in anyway intimate with anyone, not since ten years ago anyway. I have never had a girlfriend/boyfriend. It really gets to me when the questions from friends and family start coming, ďWhy havenít you brought a young girl home to meet me yet?Ē. I canít handle that. Am I gay or straight? I have no idea. I think Iím gay but I donít accept it because I was made gay. On one occasion I was told by my abuser that women would never like me. I remember what he said more than what he did, because frankly I had no idea what he was doing I was eleven years old. I do remember being somewhat gratified during the abuse which I think is the main reason for the way I am today. I felt guilty. I felt it was my fault. So am I gay? I resent myself when I find another guy attractive. I always saw my future self having a wife and kids. God I love children. So am I straight then? Donít think so as I donít find women one bit attractive. Maybe in personality but the female body is just not for me. What Iíve just written is the story of my life at the moment. I am confused.

Detail of my abuse:

It happened over a two week period. I was at a summer language course. Myself and my best friend wanted to go to get better at Irish (our native language). We didn't know anyone else there. Children from all over Ireland were at it but me and my friend were the youngest at it. I just remember this guy (between 16-18 years old) started to get friendly with me. It was soon after when he started touching me. He touched me regularly and in public places so this made me believe there was nothing wrong with what he was doing. He wanted to put his hands down my trousers for some reason. I do remember saying stop on one occasion, so I must have had some idea that what he was doing wasn't right. It didn't stop. He used to crawl into my bed at night. The beds were bunk beds and in a dorm with around 20 other beds. He'd get in and lie behind me in what I think is called 'spooning'. Well his crotch area was pressed against my bum. He took my trousers down and started to rub against me. I remember having a stickiness between the cheeks of my bum after left for his own bed. Iím not sure as to how invasive it was but I do remember being sore a few nights. Was I raped? I donít know. What happened to me wasnít forgotten as such as it just wasnít remembered. As I got older I did remember.

As I hit puberty my life got a little complicated. I was bullied in school because I was thought to be gay. The bullying was worst when I was 14-16. I still fear those guys to this day. My father is was an alcoholic (still is) and he used to hit my mam. Their marriage was heading for towards disaster and they separated (well mam got rid of dad). I adored my father all my life and when I found out he was an alcoholic it killed me. I hated my mother for making him leave. I wanted a normal dad. I was in my early teens when all this was happening. I was brought to counselling after I tried to run away from home.

I think having all the domestic stuff happen makes you into a better person in the end. I feel like I got through it and as a result Iím stronger. In my late teens and early twenties I was for the first time happy. This is kind of how I am now but what that guy used to do to me has really fecked me up when it comes to relationships and getting intimate with others. I have serious sexuality issues. That is one thing Iím certain about. I hate looking into the future because I donít see a solution. I donít know where Iím going anymore. Does any of this make sense?