Let’s talk about the abuse.

This won’t be a pretty or easy read, but true nonetheless.

From as far back as I can remember, I have felt sexual in some way or another. Memories however, only came back to me from as far back as five. It is possible I might have blacked more out.

I was the youngest of four children in a mixed heritage family. My sister was eight years older than me, and my two brothers ten and twelve years.

Our house was chaotic and loud with us often falling asleep during loud music and parties. Music was an every day thing in our lives and many of such songs became part of my life’s soundtrack.

My father however, was a hard, stoic and strict man who didn’t seem to interested in bonding with his own kids.

He was both professional musician and elementary school teacher with a larger than life’s personality outwardly. Towards us though, this was the opposite case.

My mother who was outgoing and social in earlier life, began to shrink under his abusive rule.

We all did.

Mom worked full time as a secretary and when she had me at age thirty five, she only stayed home with me for one year. After that, I was with a babysitter until the age of twelve. My sister was a very pretty girl and also frequented the same sitter.

From as far back as I can gather, there were things off between me and older people. They seemed to treat me as older than I really was- not often in good ways.

There are times when I catch snippets but it becomes unbearable to my body, so I will do anything to ease the discomfort.

But now -- it is time that I unearth some of these last memories for myself. In order to transmute this last bit of trash that has been caught in the vast recesses of my energetic body.

Here is truth; all my parent’s children ran away from home in one form or another, most notably with my sister falling pregnant and leaving at fifteen only to be permanently exiled by my father after that. Both my brothers repeatedly running off after suffering mental and physical anguish.

I ran away as soon as I turned eighteen- the loophole age in my mind. I’d be officially an adult so nobody would be able to stop me.

I did it the rather stupid way if you ask me; I chatted up American girls in music forums. And when I met one who pursued me hard, I just went with it.

An offer to go to the States and become American?

‘Hell yes’ I thought.

I barely thought about consequences- who this person was, what their intentions with me were- I simply wanted out. And the US had become the ticket.

My point is this- the running was either bred into me and my siblings, or there was a more sinister scenario.

I’ve written on here that my sister has tried to kill herself (probably more than once) and that she was never quite right after she left me by myself with dad. Me and my sister loved each other deeply- I just know it.

When she left I longed and grieved for years, only to lose her three more times after that. Sometimes it feels like she couldn’t face to be around me.

Just like none of them can, or will.

---

The sexual abuse..
it is something I have learned to let go of, but there is residual there. Still. It comes through in my kinks and in the way I view myself energetically and physically.

Which, if I am unregulated, leads to deep insecurities.

I truly struggle with not being anatomically correct when it comes to the acceptance of my body and around women.

I can see that I am physically attractive until a certain point but then my psyche starts to distort the picture. And suddenly all that is reflected back at me, is trauma and shame.

Then the grief of a ghost limb I don’t have, hits me the hardest.

Not merely because I am a sexual, passionate person who wants to merge with the woman I love. It is the pain of never physically knowing what it feels like, when many men take it for granted and leave the women worse than they found her, that causes agony. In addition to not being able to fulfill the one duty of a man and to become one flesh with his chosen partner.

It is furthermore, a complex trauma of self-worth, anger and abandonmment issues- one that didn’t do my marriage any good in the end. I never allowed her to touch me and I only knew how to give. Yet my insecurity started crippling me, feeling inadequate more and more.

It is both powerful and incredibly freeing to realise the source of your worst wounds. Now comes the powerful stage of letting myself be cleansed fully so I get to start over again.

For now , I have decided to hold off on romantic love for quite some time- I want only myself.

If anything or anyone finds me, let it come slow and gradual- like calm tides.

Intensity is no longer something I crave-

it is peace and stability.

And above all,
reciprocity

— Alex