Back In the Days…

Back in the days when I was young I’m not a kid anymore
But some days I sit and wish I was a kid again
Back in the days when I was young I’m not a kid anymore
But some days I sit and wish I was a kid again
Back in the days

Ahmad – Back In The Day

Wow, the overwhelming feeling that has just come over me is slightly sickening. I’m totally unprepared for this. But it needs to be happen. Some of what you read my own family is unaware of. However, I need to tell you all about me to release it… EVERYTHING… starting from the beginning….

So here goes (Part 1):

I don’t remember my childhood. Not completely at least not before age 9, just mainly bits and pieces. I’ve always wondered why that was. Imagined that maybe I didn’t want to remember or that one of my injuries as a young girl gave me memory loss. But then, I would have dreams. Awkward dreams that felt like distant memories of being in my Aunt’s bathroom with some male cousins, and then….I’m really not sure. The dreams would continue throughout my life; I would see us there touching each other and then…blank. Nothing else. Only remembering to button my plaid shirt. I think I was 7. At least that’s the age that makes sense. 

Growing up tormented with these dreams, I questioned myself over and over again, “Are you crazy?, You’re freaking sick, You’re just tripping. Nothing happened, You’re making it up, You know you have an imaginative mind”. But then, how would I explain the other distant memories as well? Like one where I was touching on a boy in the church closet while he touched me, I had to be 5/6, again it is the only age that makes sense when I see the figures in my dreams.  Right now I can’t recall any others, but again, I have a bad memory.

If you asked me what my childhood consisted of, I would tell you fun with family, me getting hurt a lot and sex. Yep. I identified with sex basically from 9 on up. I didn’t have sex, not yet, but I desired it. By 10, I was masturbating on top of the bunk bed while my sisters slept. That’s the age my cousin found my a porno in my Uncle’s drawer. We watched it intensely. I remember this clearly:

It was a taping of the Spice Channel, (of course that means soft core) and it was a group of women getting it on lol. At first I was in awe, like “what is this?” then I remember getting so turned on in my Aunt’s bedroom that for a second I entertained the idea of imitating what they were doing with my cousin. I think that’s when I freaked out because I knew that thought was so wrong, yet I desired it. 

So the flick ends and there are 2 young girls there very unaware of how to handle what they just saw. So we carefully put it back and left the room. I don’t remember if we discussed it, but from then on out, whenever I came over, we went back to that same drawer to watch our favorite video.  Until one day it was gone. I was devastated.

But that was just the beginning. From what I can recall, we didn’t show the video to anyone else, but we could remember the details. So somehow during one of our sleepovers with neighbors and church girls, we brought up a new activity. We wanted to re-enact the video. Strangely, none of the girls objected. Now I’m not talking “oh, we just kissed”. Nope. I’m talking about letting a girl ride my face and vice versa, while the pubic hairs were yet none existent. This happened several times over a course of months.  And then it ended.

By 11, my masturbation intensified to almost everyday.  In my last year of 5th grade, I dealt with being the young girl whose breasts were much larger than the others. To the point where I got so irritated at a classmate for gesturing as if he were squeezing my breasts, that I grabbed him by his braids and dragged him to our teacher in the library. She took us to the principals office and I was asked if I wanted to file a sexual harassment complaint. I declined-I didn’t really want him to be in trouble, I just didn’t like what he did. By the time I graduated elementary, I had no clue that not only was I changing grade levels but sexual levels as well. 

Summer before 6th grade, I fell in LIKE LIKE (lol) with a boy at my church. Apparently, he felt the same, so we started “dating”. It was the typical young, church relationship…for a while. He was a year older than me, so I liked following his lead. One day he lead me downstairs at church, pinned me up on the wall and tongued me down. I was still 11, but I immediately felt that pleasurable sensation I had felt before. So that’s what we would do for a long time. Up until Church Camp…

Everyone in our youth group went to church camp in a rural part of GA. It was tradition. So I was excited to get to go and be with my boyfriend for a whole week during the summer. The week might have been uneventful, but the bus ride back to Atlanta topped the cake. While mostly everyone else on the bus were asleep, I positioned myself on the floor while he bent over. We made out, like normal, but then he began to fondle and suck on my breasts. This was the first time he ventured into that and while I was surprised I liked it. For hours we played with each other while the church van driver and other adults had no clue.  But everyone on my row knew, and secretly the idea of being watched turned me on more. That’s how at 12, I first ventured into voyeurism.

I was boy and girl crazy. I would secretly lust after the girls at school I thought were attractive. And I craved the attention I got from the boys. 6th grade I kept a journal about each crush that sometimes got very graphic. But as I was “loyal” to my “church boo” I didn’t act on anything. But by 7th grade we had broken up but the door he opened didn’t want to close and I needed some sexual satisfaction. 

So I proceeded to let every cute guy in the 7th grade suck my breasts. Well every guy that I thought was cute enough to have access. It was almost like I had placed a calling card saying “Faithe’s boobs on display for sucking! Come ONE, Come ALL!”. A day didn’t go by that I didn’t get approached about sucking my boobs. But I delighted in it, thought it was pure comedy the lengths some of these dudes would go. I’ll admit some days I forgot to put on deodorant but they still sucked like it wasn’t an issue (eewww, gross dudes). One slightly scared me as he followed me into the girls bathroom and approached me as soon as I came out of the stall. I was put off, but he was cute so I let him continue. 

Oh there are so many boob-sucking encounters from that semester that I could recall, but it occurred so much that eventually I was hardened to it. I would critique and say “you’re not as good as so and so”, “you’re not doing it right”, or “you’re biting too hard”… would you want your 12 year old to be able to say that? One time, the counselor saw me letting guys look down my shirt during class, of course she pulled me to the side but that was it. Just a talk…”do you know what you’re doing?” “Yeah” “You shouldn’t do that” “I’m sorry, ok, I won’t”…. well basically that was the gist of it. I was a good student, guess she didn’t really want me to get in trouble and I knew better than to act dumb or have an attitude. So I listened to her, but just so she would get up and leave, and she did. 

7th grade was also the year I told people in my Creative Writing class that I had been raped. At the time I figured, “you know, I really don’t know if I have or haven’t so I’ll just go with what sounds good because I don’t want them to think I’m a virgin”.  As I told them it was by more than one guy I could tell they somewhat believed me. But even while telling my made up story I showed no emotion, I was stoic, gazing off in the distance. The only twinge came when the questions came as I scrambled for a response. 

Leaving class afterwards, I questioned myself as to why I didn’t tell the truth and say, “yeah, I’m a virgin”. I wanted to, I felt like I was, but honestly as I remembered my dreams, I just really didn’t know…