The path left behind

As I read through my journal I am reminded of memories since long forgotten. Yesterday, I thought I would copy right from my journal into my first post. Today however, through reading some of these notes, I find that some are maybe better left unsaid or instead of written verbatim, perhaps more of a synopsis overview till we get to the juicy details.
I can tell you a bit about my past:

I was very young in both mind and body. I was intimidated by men. I saw how they looked at me with their eyes -almost like I could read their minds. It made me feel dirty and guilty- like it was my fault they saw me. Looking at my pictures of my younger years I developed fast into a woman. Although I was 12, I already had the body of a 15 year old; and even more so when I was 16, I looked that of a young adult. Not much different than some of today’s teens.

I was struggling with both the carnal nature of being human versus the way God wanted me to be. I remember from my own accounts as well as reading my journal the internal sexual struggle that plagued me daily. I was of a very sexually curious nature while touching my body and yet there was a naughty and shamefulness of 'God watching me'. I didn't record my memories as they happened because when I was younger and had a diary my parents would read it anyways. And the few things I jotted in there was enough to send me to the pastor for counselling. Even then, while the pastor was 'counselling me on the devil and his ways', I was very aroused and felt dirty. Ironically, I remember that I had run out of clean underwear, as it was my responsibility to do laundry, thus I had gone to the meeting without panties while wearing a dress. I would have done laundry if I knew of the meeting, however it was a secret until it was too late to do anything about it. My fighting it just proved to my parents even more that I needed this-they didn't understand why nor did they care to find out.

During the meeting while sitting there with my vagina throbbing internally just made it feel hot and wet, I swear the pastor knew of my sin, his voice was almost hypnotic and it appeared to be getting louder and i felt flushed with my head spinning. I almost passed out when I felt his hands on my shoulders which at that moment I jumped and he said It is finished. The Lord has cleaned your spirit. You felt it didn't you?, he asked - To that all I could think was this is what God wants me to feel? Or was this the devil in disguise? Not wanting to drag this out further I agreed with him and secretly vowed to never write my feelings again -never speak them- I didn't want to end up here again.

Even as I am reading this and re-living, I am aroused, now with sound mind and eyes open it still affects me. It is probably why I am naughtier now in both my fantasies and in real life sex. As an adult, I realize there are no rules except the ones you create - and whether god or God is watching or not it is completely human in its rawest dirtiest sense and it is fine. We were created with everything we are now. Too me there is no good or bad -it’s just life and its great.

I think it funny when I hear others speak of missing the good ole days and most of them being men that say this...well of course they had more freedoms less to be guilty for - we on the other hand suffered slightly. Sexual freedom was not in our vocabulary, we were owned either by our fathers or husbands, a woman could not complain of abuse and if we ever spoke of equality I am sure that meant further punishment or even death! Today’s playing field is more even -well...maybe even titling in our favour more so, but I would never wish to be in the good ole days. I am sure the only women who would speak that phrase are brainwashed themselves.

 So, in closing, I feel that enough time has passed that I can share these with you. I am no longer punishing myself because I was not at fault for what I felt or did. In sharing these with you I feel a sort of freedom in sexuality and brings the spark and fire alive in its telling. I also feel analysing this, that the irony of what should have been normal was over exaggerated and heightened my feeling of shame and dirtiness. My parents and the church fostered what they thought I was feeling when all it did was warp it sexually. It took me years to get past and sort the confusion of sex to get to this point in my life- acceptance and freedom without guilt or shame and I have to be honest, the same feelings are still there but that just heightens the moment.

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