Please bear with me. As I am sure this is difficult for all of you to do, putting this down on paper (well, electronically speaking at least) is a challenge. I have told parts of my story to a few. The only person I am sure is aware of my entire story is my therapist. I’m not sure where to begin really, so I’ll just start. Forgive if it’s a little discombobulated…

I’ve always felt “outside” of the norm. My first vivid memory is going to class in the middle of 1st grade and being stared at. I know that is what happens to everybody when they change school systems. Somehow, it affected me a lot. From that day forward I never felt part of any group; at least, not until I was about 26. That is when I joined an elite squadron in the military.

Through my entire public school years, I always felt like I was the target of everyone else. Again, I know others got picked on. I know it probably isn’t true, but I felt like I was the epicenter of public ridicule. I had numerous tormentors. Too many to count, really. Even back then I was always more comfortable with the girls. No, I never wanted to be one. No, I never felt attracted to men. Yes, I have always been somewhat effeminate. I was more the “sensitive” type. Again, this set me apart, and set me as a target.

I remember feeling outside my own family to boot. I was fortunate that I didn’t suffer significant pain at home. My family has always shown affection through jokes. Mostly put downs, innuendoes, little jabs, etc. We were not the hugging family. We were not the “Love You!” family. Although I always felt supported, I was also always ribbed at home. Everyone was. Mom, Dad (before he left), and both my brother and sister. I should say I am the youngest of 3. Boy, girl, boy. This will play in significantly later.

When I was pretty young (about 6, I guess) I remember my brother and sister talking in a large group of neighborhood kids. I wanted to know what the subject was. I overheard the word “period” and I wanted to know what they meant. Of course I was too young, so they just played it off as talking about grammar. I knew it was more, but couldn’t find out what. The next day in class, I remember clearly. I thought the teacher had left the room, so I yelled out “I WANT A PERIOD!” Needless to say, everyone laughed at me. But this was different. I caused them to laugh at me. I was onto something here. I quickly learned is less painful to cause myself to be laughed at, then to be laughed at just for being me.

But that doesn’t mean my torment was over. Not by a long shot. I was labeled many things. Most prominently, a “fag”. I wasn’t, so it bothered me. I bet they could have labeled me anything and it would have bothered me. I was beaten. I was ostracized, I was given nick names that were less than complimentary (I think the one that hurt the worst was a play on words for a hand-job…this happened just as I was being taught to masturbate by him.)

Bottom line for this post: although I am aware that many kids have it difficult growing up (not even counting all you guys who were truly abused), I lived through 13 years of constant seclusion and ridicule. For ME, it was significant.

My heart is beating really fast right now. This is just one part of my history. I don’t know if I’ll post this.
"Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can't help them, at least don't hurt them." -Daliai Lama