I was in grade 3 when I was 1st propositioned by an authority figure and although it never actually got as far as intercourse with me it did with other little boys over and over again through the years while the person doing the abusing continued to rise in their field until the day they retired. I never said anything and I thought that none of the elders of the community and definitely not our parents knew about the person or what they were doing, but when I wrote my book I was astonished to know that they did know and they knew about others, but chose to do nothing because they thought that it would cause way too much trouble and we were not being killed or anything like that. I thought it left me with scars and I know for a fact that it was not good for us to have been put through that, but it was not the worst type of abuse I was to suffer before the age of 13 years old.
When I was 10 years old I was tied to a four-poster bed and beaten with an ironing cord until unable to stand the pain any longer a burst of adrenaline helped me to break my bonds. there were no phrases back then like child abuse; we were our parents and elders property and they could punish us as they saw fit. I will remember forever the sound of the cord whistling through the air. the sound of my screaming just after it connected with my back and the taste of my tears as they ran down my face,across my lips ending in my mouth. I remember how it hurt as the salve was being rubbed into the welts to help stop scarring and soothe the pain and how painful it was when I tried to put on my shirt. I remember feeling guilty about making someone who loved me want to hurt me so badly, but most of all I remember no one coming to help me. Even this as bad as it sounds was not the worst abuse I have had done to me; there would be one more and it would haunt me and make me question myself for most of my life.
Just before turning 13 my friends and I decided to get some weed and a cool councilor who taught guitar at the neighborhood community center always had some and had offered to give us some more if we went by his house. We decided to go and get some from him and 4 of us paid him a visit. When we got there he said that we would have to pay for it and my friends decided to go get the money and I would wait for them to return and make sure he did not pull a switch. While they were gone he offered me drink and smoke. I drank. smoked and passed out and of course he took advantage of the situation. I awoke with him trying to get my zipper back up and I knew what he had done. I hit him and threatened him, but I could not erase the shame I felt, or the confusion of why my body had responded in the manner it had. My friends returned and nothing was said. Afraid of my threats he left town. I never told a anyone growing up; I was too ashamed. This was by far the worst abuse I have ever had happen to me. I felt dirty, ashamed,humiliated and angry with myself and him. It left me doubting who I was and not trusting of anyone for most of my life. Yes I am no stranger to being abused and I was just one of many.