Ever since childhood, people have treated me like I’m strange, provocative.
Ever since I was a child, I never felt like all the other boys.
gender identity, gender violence, harassment, body image, sexuality, social pressure, social stigma
For the longest time, perhaps until after highschool, I thought all girls were like me.
Then I found out that not all of them were like me.
I didn’t understand what it meant. What’s the difference?
I would always avoid thinking about the incident.
Until a black cloud formed in my mind, engulfing the memory of this incident.
My father was the first person to touch me.
I used to tell myself that I was imagining it.
When he’d touch me with his leg from behind,
I’d tell myself he was just being playful.
I ran away from you the first time you tried to kiss me.
“You’re a coward!” you said.
I was scared.
Scared of myself.
There was a voice in my head telling me,
“Are you sure you want to get so close to him?”
I was hurt by everyone I got close to.
When you would try to touch me,
I felt like you couldn’t see me.
You could only see the body you were about to touch.
My mother made me spend the day with her one day because she was home alone.
While we were playing together, she suddenly took off all her clothes.
“Come here,” she said.
“Take off your clothes.”
sexual violence, child molestation, sexuality, masturbation