• Mathura Hawley

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Updated: Aug 1, 2021


The moments when I feel most comfortable are the ones where I bump up against others like me, in the corners, in the dark. "

All my life I have given away whatever I had in order to get someone to love me. My toys. My pride. My time. My body. In my very early life men taught me that men are selfish and cold. My father mostly ignored me and would look at me with disgust and say “You’re different.” My ten-years-older brother degraded me and stripped my confidence, making me afraid to try anything. If I failed, he would laugh at me. If I succeeded, did anything better than he did, I feared he would not love me, so I became quiet and submissive with both of them. Men are sexual, something I learned when I was forced to have oral sex with one at five, so by the time I was 8 years old I was stripping and unzipping my shorts in front of friends to my mom’s “Yellow polka dot bikini” record. She caught me once. She yelled to never do that again and stormed out of the room, ashamed of me. By the age of ten, I would put my father’s belt around my leg tightly and a surge of intense, mysterious feelings would go through me. When I was thirteen, the hormonal changes happening to my body began to mix with the already confusing sexual ideas smeared upon my child’s mind. I became so anxious and terrified of being touched that I covered myself with one hundred and fifty pounds of fat that stayed there through my high school years, keeping me safe from sexual experiences but also ensuring I was kept from most others. In my male relationships, I am desperate to be loved, and when I don’t feel it I get angry. I don’t believe anything men tell me, although I am good at pretending, which guarantees at least a little time I will not be alone until the truth comes out. The moments when I feel most comfortable are the ones where I bump up against others like me, in the corners, in the dark. An exchange of time and a sharing of pain. We are all human, just a bunch of little boys who have had our innocence ruined. And so we chase what we know and accept what we get, because we think we deserve it. To convince me otherwise, you would have to go back in time and save me. I wish someone had.


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