Well here is the more to come, though it is on a rather different track than my last entry it is a share that has impacted my life in numerous ways, not all of which I understand or am even aware of I'm sure. I share this in the spirit of journaling and because I have found so many dear sweet women here that I feel that I am amonst friends where I can share the joys and sorrows that we all have in our lives. I chose the title from an old ELO song due to the subject matter, more akin to a line in The Young Ones. Thank you again for the indulgence.
I suppose I would be remiss if I didn’t add some of the back story in between the move. I had seen a summer camp flyer going around at school and it sounded like fun, with horses and swimming and crafts. The camp looked like a lot of fun and my mother was willing to send me away for a couple of weeks to get some time to herself.
One night during a movie I had stayed back in my bunk to watch instead of crowding up by the screen with all the other boys. One of the counselors came by to check on me and stayed to talk for a bit. As he stayed be began to rub my shoulders which felt good. The rest of the time is a bit of a blur but suffice it to say that I was molested. He had asked me to meet him in the bathroom for what I am sure would have been a full blown rape. Despite the fact that what he had done felt good, I was too nervous to go and meet him, even after he came back later.
I was filled with guilt at having enjoyed what he did, but it also cemented some of the more girly feelings inside me. I still have regrets that I did not tell anyone, as I’m sure I was not the first or the last to have dealt with this guy. This was brought home even more when the stories of all the priests molesting boys sprang up in the news. Of course the camp was run at a catholic seminary school, go figure. I later ran into a co-worker who shared that a cousin of hers was in the priesthood and the church had shipped him from place to place covering up his molestations. Oddly enough he was not far from the camp where I had been molested. One extra cross to bear so to speak. I can’t say that this was a cause of my dressing as I had already started dressing well before then.
Anyway, I moved back to Columbus as a seventh grader with few friends and plenty of baggage in tow. To add to that I was a shy kid starting in the middle of the school year whose only friend in town went to a different school, a recipe for a lot of time home alone. The first few months were spent with my grandparents as we searched for a place to live. We ended up finding a nice house just two doors from my grandparents, and I finally had that time alone, whatever would I do with that time.
I had to close on a somewhat lighter note after hitting on such a heavy subject. More to come as I begin to discover Sharon.