Stolen Innocence, My Wounded Man

I loved to go stay with my uncle and aunt during the summer. They had lots of fruit trees and a big yard with lots of cars part in it.

I loved him my uncle. I looked up to him too.
He didn’t particularly find favor with me or any one else for that matter.
Everyone seemed to need him for something. He was a tall powerful man.
There was nothing he couldn’t fix or drive.

He worked as a handyman and I was on summer vacation.
My uncle and I were home alone that evening, then it happened. I cried and shivered afterward. He said, “Be a man son, don’t be a sissy.” I never told anyone, whether it happened once or more than once.
No one ever knew he hurt me. I was angry with him.

The summer ended and I tried not to think about it much.
I went back to school and my cousin said, “You grew taller, you look just like your uncle.”
I punched her in the stomach and ran.

There seemed to be trouble everywhere I went.
I was angry.
I was never to see him again, I missed a summer and he died the next.
I hate his memory and most times myself.

In college, a requirement was a human sexuality class. The instructor talked to us about the prostate gland. I wasn’t interested in the discussion. He got my attention when he said, “The prostate gland is also a source of sexual pleasure for a man.”
The revelation meant I was not gay! I sat up straight!
The correlation to the taboo sensation I felt in my body didn’t mean I liked men.
I couldn’t share my pleasure of this news with anyone.
I hated the lie I lived with all my life.

I know that I’m a straight man, but why do I have these feelings. At first, I thought his characteristics reminded me of my uncle. But the feelings seem to be attached to men.

I never spoke of my uncle. He was a creeper in my minds conversation.

In my own sexuality I refused to be confused.
I couldn’t mention the good “prostate” news with my boys or my girlfriend.
The memory, the violation, the emasculation haunted me.
I’m not confused. I’m not gay, but why do I still feel this way.

Women love me. I can’t resist them. I get plenty of sex from many different women. But I don’t understand this urge that resembles my first sexual experience. I will solve this by having more with women.

My life is a big mess. Everybody seems to be mad at me. Everybody wants something from me. I don’t want anyone in particular. I just want to be left alone.

I’m tiered of lying so I chose to have only one girlfriend.
I wish she would stop pressuring me to make more of a commitment to her. Talk to her more.
I am committed to her. She is the only one that cooks the way I like. She is the only one I would want to have a child for me. I’m committed. There’s nothing to talk about.

I experimented.

I met John at my office. He delivered a package to me. He looked powerful. I had a knot in my stomach.
I stood up and shuck his hand as hand as I could.
He began to talk to me about my work. I asked if wanted to talk about starting his own company.

We met. We didn’t talk much about business. For the first time I did exactly what I wanted to do. I followed this curious urge.
I swore him to secrecy, and I left. I felt empowered and guilty at the same time.

I’m passed it now. I knew I didn’t have to do that ever again. I missed my girlfriend.

Two years later I married the one. We had 2 kids and I’m doing great at my new job.

My sister called today, she said, “Daddy just passed.”

I don’t know why, but I called John.

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Comments

  1. Complicated.

    This young man has several things going on.

    Unresolved issues around being hurt as a child.

    Since he never processed his molestation. He grew into a man with confusion around his sexuality.

    He hated what he felt as a child.

    His silence caused his inability to establish intimacy. His abuse caused promiscuity. He used promiscuity to prove to himself he was not gay.

    He was disappointed and could not express himself. It manifested into unprovoked anger.

    Although he consciously understood the pleasurable sensation he felt in his body didn’t make him gay. His fear cause a correlation between the feeling and being gay.

    He had to experiment to understand if he was gay or not. He wasn’t but, he enjoyed the encounter, but was satisfied that it would never happen again.

    The moment he was stressed and suffered the loss of his father, it became the first time he dealt with the loss of his uncle.

    He didn’t understand why but he called John.

    Was it because he immediately mourned his uncle?
    Did he desire intimacy and that was the only way he felt it was expressed?
    Did he simple enjoy men and women but would never confess?

    Not even to himself.

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