When the very thought of being a man disgusts you.
I think this sums up what itís like to have your mother be the one who made your sexuality a dirty name. There have been some brave men on this site and in this forum. I am indebted to all of them. I can only say that now because the little boy who was so confused is starting to talk.
I realized today that this little boy could not even consider being in his body. Life for him has been walking on an electric wire tightrope. Too difficult to contemplate continuously and too scary to embrace reality.
Chronic abuse has a way of becoming so familiar that overcoming it is like peeling your own skin day by day. And yet each shedding brings a new calm.
And may I add, a new forgiveness. No matter how awful, disgusting, horrifying existence has become as I face this new information rising to the surface each day, I somehow understand that the only way this pain may have gotten here is by someone elseís pain not being resolved.
The body seeks the ground. As I work into the dirt of my own memory, I hug myself again and again. Thanks to everyone for allowing me this.
Lose the drama; life is a poem.