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Step I/Question VII: How has the abuse affected how you feel about your body?

Freyja Lee


Step I/Question VII:  How has the abuse affected how you feel about your body?
For one, the abuse made me HATE MY BODY.  I will write on this after.
For two, the abuse made me HATE ME.  I hated myself so much.  I hated everything about me.  On top of all the sexual abuse, my mom was an alcoholic/drug addict who would beat and abandon my brother and I, until my dad got custody of us when I was 6.  My dad was an alcoholic/drug addict who was physically, mentally and emotionally abusive/was neglectful.  He had a live in girlfriend who was a hard core alcoholic/coke head who was very abusive — including physical abuse.  There was constant random abuse.  And on top of ALL this, there was the sexual abuse.  For those new to my writings, 3 incestual relations for 10 years, 1 incestual relation short term, 2 guys/1 night of sexual abuse age between 8-12, and one 3 month long relation with an adult male at age 14.
Growing up, in additional to the taboo/secret sexual abuse that was happening, there was a lot of out in the open sexual abuse that went on as well.  My dads girlfriend would walk around naked ALL the time, there were polaroid pictures of her all the time, naked.  Sometimes by herself, sometimes performing sexual acts with my dad, sometimes her and her best friend, and the best friend's boyfriend.  She had a 'sugar daddy' who she would visit, have sex with and get her drugs from.  She would come back with polaroid's of that and tell my dad all about it in front of my brother and I.  She would participate in wet t-shirt contests at the bars — I would have to hear all about that. Hear about her sex with my dad and everyone else she was having sex with.  Her and my dad would have sex in front of us. Her friend and her boyfriend would have sex in the room with the door open in front of us.  The best friend and her would have sex on the bed with the door open in front of us. 
As a teen, I was always the only female.  Family and friends were male.  My dad had a monthly subscription to Playboy, which sat on the coffee table.  I got to hear every perverted comment made by the guys who would flip through it when visiting.  My dad had the Spice channels, so the living room constantly had porn playing.  Again, hearing all the comments and perversion, and walking out into the living room with anyone masturbating at any time. 
When out and about with my family or watching tv, they would see young girls and say what they would want to do to them or whatever perverse thought was going through their mind.
All of the above made me hate my body.  It made me constantly compare myself to these other females and to never match up.  I've always felt like there are males, there are females, and there is me.  I never felt like a girl, like a woman.  I am hypervigilant when it come to young or pretty girls around my spouse.  As far back as I can remember.  When we are out and about or watching tv, I am constantly on the look out for a pretty/sexy/young girl that my spouse may see, and when there is one, I feel shame inside.  Like I am less than.  I avoid going places with my spouse, where I know there will be beautiful girls — no beach, no concerts, etc.  I say the meanest things to myself. As if a person's self worth is solely based on their looks.    It is so shitty to feel and live this way.  I've always been told that I am beautiful/attractive, but I have always seen myself as the ugliest person in the world.  And what does it even matter???  There aren't enough words to say how the abuse has affected me and how or even how much I hate myself/my body.
And all this doesn't even touch on how the abuse has affected me as a person.  All the screwed up shit I've done, all the screwed up shit I've allowed others to do.  How warped my perception is.  How I am unable to love/be loved. Unable to be present.  Unable to be healthy and make healthy choices.  The list goes on....


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