Sexual Relationships 
Sexual Health 
I am making this mytake after getting inspiration to do so by another friend on here @DizzyDesii. Some of you know my struggles, most don't and the few that do only know part of it.
A Child Unwanted: What can I say other then what little I've heard and pieced together from others over the years? I was a planned child by my parents who waited until my mother was 27 and my father 30 (they met at 18 and 21). However for my mother it was not the child she wanted. A healthy baby boy was not what she was looking for but instead a girl. When I was born in the delivery room she turned to my dad and said, "Here's your son" and just handed me over to him not seeming to be too thrilled about it. The same thing would not be said for her second child, my sister.
More on that later. It was clear from the very start my mother had zero interest in me at all. Old home videos tell the tale. A frustrated woman who could not be bothered to hold her child, force feeding the baby until the child vomited consistently in every video while I gasped to breath as she shoved the bottle in and talked to others not bothering to even look at me. Sadly this would be the only time I got any physical contact with my mother throughout the years. No breastfeeding by her choice and skinship of any kind.
The Daughter awaited: Three years later the daughter she had always wanted was born. A child which she quickly embraced, cried and smiled for, and went on to do everything with. I remember being quickly pushed aside in favor of my sister by my mother who had never spent any time with me. Every waking moment my mother spent time with my little sister. However she now not only neglected me but began to take out any and all frustrations on me. This would be the first signs of a very serious medical problem to fully manifest later in my life.
The Life Long Abuse Begins: She would constantly yell at me, cuss, and kick me off when I tried to hug her, mind you I was around 4 years old at this time. Eventually when I attempted this while she was holding my little sister she kicked me down to the kitchen floor. I had my first ever panic attack only I didn't know what was happening. I felt sharp pains in my chest and grabbed hard at it. My mother told me to stop faking and get up only I couldn't. So she began kicking me over and over and over again in the stomach while I naturally converted to the fetal position. The abuse would get worse graduating from the kicking to leather belts to my bare face. And it continued like this in secret, without my father knowing about it.
The Signs of Anxiety Appear: The only time I was happy was with my mother's parents or my dad's father or with my dad who treated me good. I remember everyday dad dropping me off at pre-school. Before we got there he would always buy me an Egg McMuffin happy meal. I always got the same thing. When we didn't go there we would go to Cumberland farms and he would buy me tastykakes. It was the only time I felt happy, when I had something tasty to eat and my dad with me. He said I was the cutest thing and always in a trance and happy when I was eating.
When we got to school he first thing he would to was take me by the hand and walk me inside. Then I would turn to him and hug him as hard as I could hoping he wouldn't ever leave me. When he said he had to go I would beg him not to leave me. He would try to calm me down as best he could but every morning played out exactly the same. A little boy chasing after his father wailing with tears in his eyes as he drove off to work begging him to come back and not leave him. But it was always in vain and everyday the abuse at home got worse and my dad driving off did too.
The First Fight: 2 years had passed and I was now 6 years old. Things hadn't really changed much but here I was not going to elementary school at Catholic School. You can imagine that by now I am pretty mentally not well from my home life and being abused I had become very timid and so it was easy for others to pick on me and really hurt me bad. Even now at 31 years old and standing at a broad 6'3 I am easily hurt emotionally by people. I remember these 2 sixth graders starting to pick on me everyday after school.
The age difference and the size difference were disparagingly wide and there were two of them to boot. I now had to endure being beaten up at home and at school by bigger people than me (and yes this is why people taller than me bug me to this day). Eventually I would start hiding in the bushes out front of the church yard. I would hear them looking for me and just stayed hidden until either my parents or grandparents arrived. So I basically had to stay in a bush every afternoon for 2-3 hours. But eventually I was able to befriend an alter boy who was the same age as these bullies named Joe.
Joe had a heart of gold, he was a good guy and remained true to his faith long after I had moved on. One day the bullies finally catch me, they see where I am hiding. They grab me by my hair and yank me out of the bush. Only this time someone heard me crying for help, Joe. Joe attacked one of them and beat him up within a few seconds. Funny how bullies are always the biggest push overs ain't it? Joe grabs the guy hurting me and starts beating him down and the guy lets go of me. Joe is getting the upper hand in the fight.
But eventually the other guy gets up and attacks Joe from behind and eventually they overwhelmed him and took him down. I remember at that moment finally getting the courage to stand up to bullies when I saw someone else, an innocent person getting hurt. I yelled out like a wild boy and jumped up on the bigger bully and started hammer fisting him over the back of his head while I wrapped the rest of my body around him. It allowed Joe to get up and beat down the weaker one quickly again. But while that was happening the bigger bully threw me about 5 or 6 yards right into a steel rail and took me out of the fight as I hit my ribs hard against it.
The weaker bully was out this time now but the bigger one got the upper hand on Joe from behind. I remember mustering the last bit of strength and courage I had and jumping back on him. It was like a David vs Goliath match. This time he was too weak to get me off or my resolve became to strong to protect Joe. I hammer fisted him and each strike brought him down further and further to the ground. Eventually I got him down on both knees and his eyes were starting to roll back when a nun stopped us. But thankfully Joe was okay and the bullies never came back to hurt me again.
The Demon appears: Due to this fight I was unenrolled from Catholic School at the end of 1st Grade. Eventually my parents sent me to another school closer to home. But I was not a good fit here either because I was already mentally very unsure of myself, very quiet, very afraid, and a Demon got a whiff of that. As my parents quickly found out I had an aptitude for literature, reading, and spelling. However I suffered greatly in grasping math. So my parents decided it would be best to get a tutor. But where to find a tutor? Well as it so happened my 2nd Grade teacher offered to tutor me at discount prices. Discounts and not having to look somewhere else for a tutor? Sounded great to my parents.
But this was not about helping me or my parents. This woman had other motives and they were from a dark heart. During my 1st tutoring she was teaching me on white board. She asked me to solve problems and then gave me a worksheet. After I started filling it out she pulled up a chair next to my desk and looked at the paper and then at me. It sounded like she was sniffing me but I wasn't sure. She got her face very close to my ear and then she started pointing at my math sheet. Only something strange happened. I felt something weird underneath the desk.
Before I realize it that strange tickling sensation had gone from my thigh to my testicles and they were being squeezed. At this point I was completely paralyze. I had absolutely no idea what was going on and I didn't know what to do. Before I could even begin to process this she grabbed my penis and started masturbating me. This would be how I discovered masturbation. She did this for the first week of tutoring me. And then she began to go further by pinning me to the ground of the classroom, getting on top of me, and forcing penetration into her. I was confused and had no idea what to do. I was paralyze in fear, confusion, and pleasure at the same time. It was horrible and it ruined me very badly.
For the next 3 marking periods of school I would continue to be raped by my 2nd grade teacher everyday after school. By school year's end I had passed the second grade. I was still clearly struggling with math but I had passed. Two days before I started 3rd grade my mother and I walked into the school. My mother wanted to thank my teacher for "helping me get through the school year". Only when we arrived to the classroom another woman was there. we asked about my teacher and she said that she had run off with a man, got married, and never reported back in. No one knows what happened to her or where she went. I never did find out what happened to her after that....
Grades 3-5: I experienced my first betrayal by a friend. My dad took us to the DC Discovery Zone which was kind of like a Chucky Cheeses of sorts. I went with my friend and his sister. Only they weren't coming with me to have fun but to hurt me. They physically threw hard balls at me, in my face, on bare skin, I had welts all over and I was crying because of the pain but more so because I thought I had a real friend. It turned out they were jealous that I was well off and they weren't so they took it out on me. At this point in my life during the Clinton years mom was pulling in $30 an hour and dad was pulling in $36 an hour. That wasn't bad money at all back then and we lived in a nice 3 story, 4 bedroom home with 2 acres of prime real estate in Avondale, PA. From that point on I became very aggressive with others. Anytime someone said a single insulting word I just beat them down, bad. Eventually all of the bullies transferred out of the school because I was beating all of them up every single day at school.
My mother started hanging out more with young women and she seemed to really be liking it a lot. at around 8 years old mom decided that it was more fun to hang out with the college girls and go clubbing in Wilmington, DE than to be home with her children to help them with homework or help with dinner with dad. I remember mom getting all dressed up to go clubbing and coming downstairs while dad was helping me with spelling tests that were coming up soon. I remember telling my mother that I loved her and she just waved her hand after telling my dad she was going to the club. Mom ended up finding that she liked the company of women a lot. A lot more than the company of her children or her husband and that's when she started having affairs and hook ups. Mom wasn't going just on Fridays either. She was going Tuesday through Saturday every, single, week.
Dad and her would be fighting all the time saying things I won't even repeat. It got bad and mom tried several times to get dad arrested but dad was innocent of ever hurting her. But mom was good at manipulating my sister and I and she turned us against our dad with her crocodile tears. One night dad worked extra late hours. Mom tried to tell my sister and I to run and hide in the closet while he was coming upstairs which made no sense. He was going up the stairs all tired but mom tried to say he was drunk and going to beat us.
Amazing how she would know that since she was upstairs and dad had just gotten home from work and didn't exchange even a word with her when she pulled this stunt *rolls eyes*. She basically tried to scream and yell and act like dad was going to kill us all.....dad just looked at her, called her crazy and said to leave him alone. Plan didn't pan out but I guess she wanted to try to get him to strike her. Dad just took off his work uniform and went to bed. Eventually dad hired an investigator and found out everything
The Split: The Divorce was an absolute nightmare. The classic boomer custody battles stereotyped in movies over the next decade. This one got extra bad when my father, his brother, and his sister's boyfriend at the time, and my mother's father, and my mother's 3 brother brothers confronted each other outside the house. Mom had LIED about my dad being a wife beater (dad never laid hands on a woman IN HIS LIFE!). The Judge dismissed the allegations as she had zero proof anyways. Dad, being chivalrous let my mother keep the house and property which was actually his own inheritance. He believed my mom would stay good to us, too bad he didn't know how far down the rabbit hole her heart sank.
The Ultimate betrayal: My mother eventually decided the time had come to be rid of the son she never wanted. She drove me out of state to a far off liquor store while it was raining. She told me to get out of the car. Confused I got out and then she drove away leaving me on the outskirts of a place with drunks who greeted me. Afraid for my safety I ran into the liquor store where the owner let me call my father who came and got me. My mother had a new woman lover sleeping in the bed where my dad slept. She gave her lover's son my room and bed. Dad tried to make us work through our problems but I remember her clearly saying on the phone, "He's your son, he's your responsibility now".
When I went over to my old home she introduced me to her lover and tried to play it off like they were just friends. I was 11 but I wasn't stupid. At night time she told me the new kid got my bed. She gave me a sheet and told me to sleep on the floor....of my old room...while that kid slept in my old bed. That messed with me so badly. As did my mother coming out as gay when she raised me to be a Catholic, made me go to CCD every Monday, and attend church Sundays. No hate to you if you're gay, but you don't raise a developing mind to believe one thing and completely contradict those teachings in front of me. That REALLY messed with me and it would continue to mess with me the all throughout the rest of my life until very recently.
Let The Hard Times Begin: At this point dad and I were living in poverty, REAL poverty. Living out of a run down hotel, living on dennys, pizza hut, and free continental breakfasts at the hotel. You'd think as a kid having cheese danishes and cran-gape juice every morning would be heaven....I can assure you after week one and after MONTHS of it that it was anything but. The only things I had were my dad, a small 13" TV, and 2 little dragonball Z action figures....and that was my life. Going from a half million dollar home to that overnight. Say what you want about the people who made it from the bottom up. The people that fall?
They fall HARD and it is NOT an easy adjustment to make. Dad would drive me across state lines every morning. I had to be up at 3 AM to get ready for school and then he would have to come and pick me up. The drives were horrendous and miserable, especially in the dead of winter.At school my grades deteriorated. I stopped applying myself at all. The other guys that saw me saw they could take advantage of me now because I no longer had a will to defend myself. I would fall back into years gone by. Getting beat up only this time I didn't even fight back and just took it.
From Nobility to Peasant: I am not insulting people with this title it's simply how it was. I grew up around millionaires and I was now reduced to living a very frugal life in a beat up old town house. YES it was awesome to have a roof over my head and I am thankful everyday for that. Put yourself in a 12 year old's shoes who lived under different conditions. Of course I thought about the things I used to have and it bugged me. I went from a nice private school to literally the WORST school in a poorer state in the murder capital of small town America where you could not have recess because of crack dealers. That's NOT an easy transition to make. For the next few yeas between 6-8 grade I was adjusting to the new lifestyle but if eventually caught on thankfully! However with this change came a new set of problems.
COPE and Wicked Deeds: Troubled youths tend to gravitate towards each other. After my mother's father died and left off on bad terms with me I completely changed for the worse. At 14 years old I became an alcoholic and smoker under my dad's nose. I would hang out with a friend who's mother was a prostitute and always passed out drunk. A few other friends and I would always steal her vodka and Camel Smokes. We would drink heavily and smoke a pack between us. It was our way to cope with broken homes. All of us had a story and non of them good. Jesse's mom was a whore and his dad was a locked up MC gang member and her new boyfriend was a member a certain prison gang full of swastikas, Matt didn't have a mom and his family were Mexican illegals, I didn't have a mom, half my family abandoned me, we kind of just clicked. Eventually I began delving into my ancestral history, its a cope for a lot of guys actually!
I began to find a love in history delving in books about my people, the Ancient Romans, The Kingdom of The Lombards, and Benito Mussolini. Eventually and I'm sad to say this I embraced Fascism HARDCORE. I began putting up wallpapers on my phone, computer, psp, etc of Fascist Italy's flag. I hung up pictures of Benito Mussolini in my room too. I was an avowed Fascist and I was opened about it. I even started converting other troubled youths in high school to embrace fascism and wrote a fascist manifesto. I later also joined a street gang. we did all kinds of crap. we sold and moved drugs, we vandalized homes, jumped people, committed arson, shop lifted, all that bad stuff. I got in pretty bad for about 3 years there. At this time I also embraced demonic worship and wrote about fallen angels other dark things.
Finding Jesus: Eventually in school I started hanging around better kids. I felt very bad for how I acted between the ages of 14-16 and yearend repent somehow, anyhow. That's when I started talking to the Christian kids. There were about a dozen or so kids in the youth group of every race, color, and creed and different denominations to boot. I told my story and they love bombed me, and all held me and prayed for me together. I then was invited to attend 3 different churches. An Evangelical, a Baptist, and a Non-Denominational, I ended up enjoying them.
Although they weren't what I was used to and to be honest I'll never like contemporary music, having been too ingrained in the metal scene for so many years. I eventually found what I wanted to do with my life when I went into Riverside in Wilmington, DE. I joined a group to help people in poverty and to give inner city kids a big brother figure. It was at this point when I was reading a book to a little boy who I had on my lap that the one thing in my life that completed me was children....and I knew that someday I wanted this in my life. I finished High School late taking things more seriously. I went from a D&F student Freshmen year to to a B+ Student by Senior year. And then I began working at a local grocery story.
This concludes My Childhood and Adolescent chapters of my life. Stick around for a shorter Part II
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