How did this start for you? I've had so many people ask me that question. I've heard others stories and I must come to this conclusion on my own. Unfortunately, my story is not romantic like a child's birthday party and having a crush on the little boy who hit me in the face with cake. No, my start must have come from the pedophile I was forced to spend most of my young childhood living with.
I grew up living with my grandmother, step-grandfather, and my aunt, their child together. I was invisible to everyone except the grandfather. My own father had abandoned my mother and me, and I had to live with them so my mother could work or whatever else she was doing with her life.
I'm not exactly sure when the abuse started but I can remember, for sure, it started when I was at most, 4 years old. His abuse was always of a sexual nature as long as he could have time with me. If not, I would get severe beatings with the belt, a thick fat leather strap, which would leave welts from my neck to my feet. As young as I was, I knew I would rather have the beatings.
The grandfather liked to roll his penis in something sweet and rub it and stick it in my mouth as I slept. Many nights I would awake to sticky sweet tasting smear on my face and his penis in my mouth. He also liked to use whipped cream or any sweet substance he thought would make a small child suck him. I thought, at the time, that all children lived as I had to.
The abuse continued and changed as I aged. He started to insert things inside me, his favorite being the Dr. Pepper bottles he inevitably was always drinking from. I am unable to stand the smell of that nasty stuff to this day. Up until the age of 12, he had his way with me. Always though, somehow food of some sort was involved. Be it within the act itself or as a bribing tool, such as you do this you can have ice cream or candy.
So, I guess the answer to that "big" question for me is severe abuse used as affection, the only attention or affection I got as a child. He used mental and emotional abuse, as well, to control me.
Over the years I've tried to reconcile this whole experience to come to terms with it truly to no avail. This predator made a child who didn't know love any other way. He told me that no one else in the world loved me and if I didn't do what he wanted, I'd have no one.
I thought, as I grew to adulthood, that food and sex went together. Those thoughts never left my head. As I said in my last blog, food became sensual. My friends teasing me about wanting to eat such or such off some hot guy was true thoughts of mine. None of them were like me. I never met anyone else who was into food until 97' and I met this guy who was into it. His likes and mine are not the same, nor are our reasons for having them. He did not see me as a real person, but that's nothing new. In his quest for what he wanted, he lead me down the wrong messy path.
For me, a messy experience will always be sexual in nature and much better with someone else. I know that getting messy makes me feel held, embraced, comforted, and loved. I have never had those things. When this guy introduced me to his messy world, he did not once take into consideration why I was into it, too. He allowed the sessions to be sexual in nature with me and I, for the first time since childhood, thought I was special and loved. But it was all a lie and I was nothing more than any other girl to pie. Put a lot of confusion in my head...
Now, I get messy alone because it comforts me even though it also makes me cry sometimes. I really wish I was just normal. This has been a very lonely life, used and abused by the men I loved and trusted the most.