There are a few things that make/have made, me who I am. Most of them, I would not wish on my worst enemy. One or two I would, and I'll explain that shortly.
I guess I'll start with what I survived in my childhood. I did not have an idyllic childhood. I was (I believe) emotionally neglected by my parents, my mother, I believe, did not want a daughter. I was born nearly ten years after the next older of my siblings. My mother probably thought she was done having children, and she always favored her boys as I was growing up. My daddy worked ungodly long hours, so he wasn't home most days. So, if he wasn't there, then he couldn't pay attention to me, could he? I hold nothing against him, we're actually building a decent relationship now that I am an adult and a parent, too. Well, my brothers babysat me a good bit as I was growing up, particularly the oldest of them. Ok, now to give some background on that brother. Most important thing about him is that he has a really violent temper. I have seen him (when he was a teenager, in high school band), grab a classmate by the shirt (or was it by the neck? I don't remember now, it was over 20 years ago now), and slam him against the wall with one hand and scream at him for 20 minutes (it seemed like that at the time, probably was only about 5) because the little shit wasn't pulling his weight with the equipment (they were drummers). This same brother used to play a "game" with me, that I think of now as 'Soda Fountain' thinking back on it. He would masturbate to get an erection, ask me what kind of soda I wanted today, and tell me that if I sucked on him, soda would come out of it. Then, he would lay me on his bed (this always took place in his bedroom), and perform oral sex on me. I was under 6 years old. He told me that if I told ANYONE about our game, that he would get REALLY mad at me. Now, if you were a preschooler, who had watched your big brother pick another teenager up and hold him with one hand, and had watched him pick your other teenaged brother up and throw him into a wall and beat the living daylights out of him, would YOU take any chances of making him mad? I didn't. I was terrified of him.
Skip ahead to my teenage years. I'm fourteen years old, and my grandmother has passed away, it's about two or three weeks into my sophomore year of high school. My daddy has gone back home for his mother's funeral, and I meet a boy at school. He's friends with a guy I know in band who isn't the BEST guy in the world, but he's not a bad guy. So, I figure this guy is ok. Also, unbeknownst to me, I had a reputation at school for being 'easy' even though I was still a virgin. I have no idea how I got that rep. Wish I did, but that's neither here nor there. Well, the two guys made a bet that the second one could get me to sleep with him, for $20. I met him on the 9th of September, on the 10th, he came over to my house to hang out. My mom was cleaning house, so I suggested that we go for a walk, so we weren't in her way. So we did. We hadn't gotten very far when it started sprinkling, so he suggested that we go sit in his car and listen to the radio. I was pretty damn naive, and went along with it. I got into the car an innocent teenager, and when I got out I had become a statistic. I distinctly remember telling him no, and to stop numerous times that night. He didn't. My virginity was worth a $20 bill. And life as I knew it was over. My personality was shattered, I was an empty shell. I didn't start recovering myself until over a year later when I met my first real boyfriend. I can trace so many pieces of my personality back to him. The books I like, the television shows I tend to like, the movies. Even, to an extent, the people I make friends with. The only facet of my personality that I have now that I have always had is the music I prefer. My rapist destroyed everything else about me.
Fast forward three years. I have joined the military, I'm barely 18. I date a lot of guys, ok, I sleep with a lot of guys (guess I lived up to that reputation I had in high school at this point, huh?). One of them is physically abusive towards me. We're walking from base to a friend's apartment, and he convinced me to follow a trail into the bushes, to explore. I knew what he wanted, and was game. Until he started pushing for anal sex. I said no, repeated myself multiple times, He forced himself into my anus. It was incredibly painful.
After the second rape, I met a young man that I had met previously, while still in high school. We had been friendly and attracted to each other. When we met again, we started seeing each other (after I tried to steal his driver's license walking back to the barracks from the school building). Three weeks later, we were married, because he pressed for marriage, because of our impending graduation from school, which would mean being sent to our duty stations. Separately. Before we married, he was sweet, kind, a perfect gentleman. After we married, I was not allowed to speak to any of my female friends, because "they all wanted (me) to leave him" and I wasn't allowed to talk to my male friends, because "they wanted nothing other than to fuck" me. He severely mentally abused me, including one night we had gone for a drive, we drove out to the beach, and he locked me in the car, and walked off. Next thing I know, he's running at the car, with a terrifying look on his face. He jumped up on the hood, and kicked the windshield. I was so scared that night. I was afraid he was going to kill me.
Once I got away from him (partly due to my being discharged from the military), I went home. My best friend from the military (who was the only friend, male or female that I was allowed to associate with, happens it was a male) was stationed in Naples, Italy. When he left for Italy, it hit me how much I cared for him. I was a mess, knowing that he was not just down the hall, or maybe just a long-distance call away. He was now in another country. We talked on the phone once a week, and realized that we had mutual feelings. Or I thought we did. He felt sorry for me. However, we began a relationship by phone, and he convinced his mother to sign over her frequent flier miles to me so that I could meet him in Italy and spend three weeks with him. I went home engaged to him. And he couldn't tell his own mother that he'd proposed to me. He left it up to me to tell her when she picked me up at the airport. I should have known there was something wrong at that point. And if that didn't ring the alarms, then the fact that he was telling me about playing with a mouse he and his friend were going to feed to the friend's snake when it bit him (the mouse). It bit him, so he proceeded to "squeeze it until its eyes bugged out" and stopped short of killing it, because if it had been dead, the snake wouldn't eat it. THAT should have rung LOUD alarms in my head. But guess what. It didn't. I still married him. Shouldn't have surprised me when, after I gave birth to our son, he abused our son physically. He mentally and emotionally abused me, refused sex if I hadn't 'behaved' (he never used that description, just my thoughts as I look back) the way he wanted. I left him after almost six years of watching him abuse my son, when he left bruises on me. In my defense, the abuse of our son was disguised as strict discipline. I have never been all that fond of spanking, but was afraid to stand up to him, because I was afraid that if I stood up to him, he would hit me instead. So, and I have no excuse for this, I let him spank my son out of fear for myself. I am beyond ashamed of myself for that. But, I did divorce him. Found out that he was also cheating on me with my best friend. Yeah, THAT was a nice pleasant surprise to come home from the hospital to. I nearly bled to death after an ectopic pregnancy, spent three days in the hospital, and came home to have my neighbors tell me that they could hear HER being fucked while I was in the hospital. That was the most humiliating thing I'd ever had happen to me.
I got involved with another man who begged me to give him a child. I told him that I'd been told that if I had another child it could kill me. Both because I was at risk for another ectopic, and because the pregnancy with my daughter was very rough on me. But, I got pregnant anyway. I was not actively trying, but I wasn't actively trying to prevent it, either. He left on a deployment that we didn't know how long it was going to be. ABout three months into the deployment, I find out that he was cheating on me with a woman he had been involved with prior to us getting together who was on the ship with him.
Also during that deployment, but after I found out about my then-fiancee cheating on me, one of the guys from his group of friends was discharged and sent home. The plan was for him to help me move out of military housing, and get into an apartment for my fiancee and I to share when they got home. Well, he helped me move, but (and this comes from other friends who were around at the time) he raped me repeatedly, every night. I have no memory of a lot of that two-three months. That nearly cost me the friendship with someone I had been friends with since high school.
After I got away from him, I got involved with a man who told me that he and his girlfriend/fiancee (he told me girlfriend, I found out differently later) had broken up, and we began dating. I came to find out that they had NOT split up. And I felt that I had been cheated on, and I would never let another man do that to me again, and I would not allow a man to use me to do that to another woman. That was slightly traumatic. Especially when I found out what was going on after I found out that my ex (the big kids bio-dad) was forcing me to allow a visitation with supervisors I didn't approve of, the weekend of my mother's birthday, when he KNEW we had plans. He deliberately ruined those plans. I went to call my "boyfriend" only to be told that he was spending time with his fiancee, and I was to leave him alone. So I literally cried on my friend's shoulder. He had gone to court with me that day, and was there to hold me when I broke down completely. That man is now my husband.
I have left a lot out of this. The things I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy are: I would never wish on my worst enemy being sexually molested as a child. I wouldn't normally wish being raped on my worst enemy, except those few people who still think that somehow I was "asking for it" because of what I wore, something I said, or did.
Like I said, I've left out a lot, and I'll cover that in another entry. This is already a short book.