For a very long time I felt so alone in my world.
I have never really 'fit in'.
I often faked my way through situations and pretended to be like everybody else, but inside I always knew I was 'different'.
I learned at a very young age that my friends didn't play the same 'games' as I did. They were not interested in their 'private parts' like I was. They didn't feel embarrassed when a sex scene appeared in a movie or on the television.
I remember one time in kindergarten, a boy in our class pulled his pants down and exposed himself. Everybody was shocked and giggling - I was wondering why he wasn't covered in hair?
As I grew a little older I started to realise that my friends didn't have the same home life as I did. I started to feel like I didn't belong.
When I would mention to my friends that my 'poppy' kisses me 'down there' they had no idea what I was talking about.
I remember one time when my grandfather dropped me off at the school disco - it could have been 2nd or 3rd grade - I forgot to put my underwear back on before I got out of the car.
I still wonder to this day whether anybody noticed?
I was wearing a skirt so chances are that the answer is YES!!?!!
I had many days off school - sometimes a week at a time - due to illnesses or injuries caused by my grandfather.
I became aware very quickly that my friends at school didn't suffer the same inflictions as I did.
My grandmother would tell the doctor many different 'stories' of how these injuries and STD'S occurred. Sometimes I had fallen off my bike, other times I had slipped while getting in or out of the bath.
STD'S were usually picked up from the 'public toilets' or sometimes because I hadn't washed my hands before 'exploring myself' which is supposedly something that is 'totally normal' for young children to do.
When I was ten, I had a large cluster of blisters on the back of my leg up to my bottom.
The doctor had said that this type of STD had a deep core inside the tissue of my leg, and they all needed to be DUG OUT.
My mother (who still denies to this day that at this time she had no idea I was being abused) took me to the specialist to have them removed.
I will never forget the pain of that little utensil - kind of like a tiny ice cream scooper - being forced through the blister and into my leg to scape out the core inside.
43 cores where removed - the deepest was 2cm into my flesh.
While I laid there on the sterilised table, the specialist questioned my mother about where I could possibly have picked up such a rare STD - that could only be transferred through physical contact.
'She just wont learn not to touch the toilet seats' was my mother's reply.
The specialist explained that it was not possible to contract this type of STD off a 'toilet seat', and asked whether I had been 'sexually active'??
At 10 years old??
My mother brushed it off and appeared to be horrified and offended by such an 'outrageous assumption'.
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