Showing posts with label virginity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label virginity. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Taking Control of My Destiny!

Sifting back to age 14 is not easy . . . still getting back to my story. The school year had just started, I was in band. I'd been assaulted. I could not stand to hear the thump of a basketball. It was my freshman year. If you can imagine I was a little withdrawn around home. My grounding had been reduced a little. I was still not allowed to go visit my mother. I was beginning to believe I'd never see Danny Joe again. We had always agreed if we were meant to be we would be. When he had moved I had set him free. Granted he'd come back for me but since I never saw him since that date I was not convinced he was waiting around for me.

In my heart I had come to believe that if God wanted me to have a baby my stupid plan to keep from having one was just that. Stupid. I had woken up to just how cruel this world was. Again I had NOT processed my attack. Nope. Instead I had processed everything in this way, "I am a virgin, they think I'm not. Why would they think that? Just because I stayed out all night? Stupid. I guess if I don't do things God's way, he'll send someone to rape me."

That would bring us to Christmas break. I cannot for the life of me remember how it came to be but I was going to be allowed to go to my mothers for Christmas. One night. They didn't tell me in advance. I imagine it was so I would have no time for plans. It was weird that they let me because she had to work and was going to be gone at night for her shift. Just like in the old days I waited . . . this time I waited a full thirty minutes. I thought it might be a trap. When she didn't come back, I left. I walked to the old neighborhood down to where Danny Joe had lived with his dad. My heart stopped. The house was gone. GONE! I was dumbfounded. I wasn't ready to go home, I thought I'd find Debbie. See if she knew anything. I walked over to that side of the neighborhood. As I got closer to Debbie's I ran into some kids I remembered and asked if they knew what had happened to Danny Joe's house and if they'd seen him lately. They informed me he lived in a house down the road and around this corner. One of them told me he was at his Dad's for Christmas. Now my heart was really pounding. I knocked on a couple of wrong doors by their description and then I knocked on the right one.

There was a pool table in one room and a dart board on the wall. I'd gotten there in the middle of a game. Danny Joe kept looking at me while he played. I let him know I needed to talk to him and when the game was over he cleared the room. I told him my mom had sent me off for staying out all night and that I'd been grounded for losing my virginity and he laughed. Even I began to giggle with him. I told him I'd been grounded ever since and since I'd been grounded for that I should at least do that. He argued with me. He reminded me of the promise he'd made. I told him I had changed my mind. That made him laugh. I pushed harder . . . I questioned him . . . is it because I'm not pretty enough? He assured me that was not the case. It was his job to deny me. He had made a promise. That's when I told him about me being molested and I cried to him and said, "Danny Joe if I don't do things God's way he'll send someone to rape me. Please help me". That did it. He took me into some part of the room with some kind of bed on it. I can't remember much other than how much it hurt . . .freaking out because blood had gotten on stuff . . .  and how kind he was when it was all over. The last thing he said to me . . . until the next time we saw each other again was at his front door. If I recall one of his 1/2 brothers was standing beside him. Anyway, he looked at me with a grin and said, "You are prettier without all that black around your eyes." I laughed. I'd put on eye liner and mascara on while I was killing time waiting to see if my mom was coming back.

When school started again I shared the fact I'd lost my virginity with Tami. She and I had quickly become great friends. We rode the bus together and she and I had a lot in common it seemed. She confided some things to me about her life and I confided to her about my home life. I still wrote some things in my Diary and I had written about Tami. I had also written about me giving up my virginity.

My grounding had been lifted and I was even allowed to invite a friend over for the night. Of course I picked Tami. Her mom dropped her off at my house. My parents were going out for the night and I can't recall where Tommy and Cady were . . . maybe they went with her. Anyway Tami and I had a blast. We went into the kitchen to make some chocolate chip cookies. In the midst of adding the ingredients I'm not sure which one of us flipped the first bit of flour at who but next thing I knew we were in a flour war! It was quite the scene. We finally got the cookies in the oven, cleaned up our mess and we sat down to watch a true story about the first high school female quarterback. I could be wrong but I think her name might have been Tamara . . . if not . . . oh well not important really.

I'm still to this day not sure what made Chris climb up on my bed and fumble through the books on my shelf and find my diary but she did. I had gotten home from school and there she was waiting for me. She had my diary. I was in trouble. I found it so ironic that nothing was mentioned about how they had been wrong about my crime. . . no . . . just that I was in trouble for it AGAIN! She informed me that this was going to be our secret. She was going to keep my diary for collateral and I was going to baby sit my baby sister every other weekend for Free so that she and my father could have some adult time without breaking the bank for a sitter. As long as I kept my side of the bargain without trouble she would keep this information to herself and not share it with my father. That was acceptable to me. I didn't want anyone to know. My dad already thought the worst of me . . . no need to add to that. I'm not sure why Chris shared the information with my Grandmother but she did. One of my Free weekends I was going to spend the night there. I figured it was a way they could get rid of me and have an eye kept on me. I didn't know until I got there what Chris had done. My grandma drove us to the store and had a conversation with me about boys. She told me Chris had wanted to share my diary with them but they didn't have any desire to read it. . . so she told them what I had done. I wanted to climb into a well and stay there. That night when my grandpa had gone to lay down he'd asked to talk to me. I sat down on the edge of his bed and he grabbed my hand and said, "Wendy, that witch could tell us you murdered someone and we'd still love you. You know that right?" I laughed and said I did. Grandpa Duke. He is no longer in this world but I love him so much for that comment.

I went home and I was so mad at Chris. She had lied. I had to get my diary back. The next weekend it was my turn to watch Cady. It was my turn to ransack her room. I was going to find my diary and take it back! I did not find it that weekend but I was not done looking. That next weekend was a school dance and I was excited because it fell on my weekend. Right before the weekend came Chris informed me I was going to have to babysit Cady. I was like, "I did that last weekend. This weekend is mine. You promised I could have every other weekend." She smirked at me and asked if I'd like my father to read my diary. I told her, "Sure, go ahead." She'd already told my grandparents. I really didn't care anymore. That's when she threw me for a loop. "Okay" she said, "You should know I'll also have to pick up the phone and call Tami's dad." My heart lurched. I'd forgotten about writing about Tami. She had me. No way could I allow her to do that. I caved but my heart was longing to smash this lady. Oh I was so mad. What kind of person would do something like that. I resolved to get dirt on Chris. It was the only way I was going to be able to get my hands back on my diary. I'd had it since I was 10 years old and she was using it as a weapon. That next night I didn't just look for my diary, I was looking at everything. I reasoned if I couldn't find my diary I had to find something to hold over her head and that is how I found it. A letter from a friend of hers. I knew she didn't want the world to see what that had to say. I tucked it away for safe keeping.

The following weekend arrived and I thought it was going to be my weekend since I'd watched Cady two in a row now but in her new found confidence in her threat she had decided I would be no trouble in the baby sitting department. She'd found my weakness . . . my loyalty to my friend. I'll never forget her face when I told her I wasn't going to babysit Cady that weekend. She said, "Well I guess I'll call Tami's dad."

I looked at her and said, "Fine. You do that. Tomorrow, I'll begin sharing with the world your letter from your friend in the Bahamas."

If looks could kill, I'd be dead. I cheered myself on in my head. "Sucks to have someone threaten you like that doesn't it?"

She decided that blackmail wasn't really kind but she was not going to allow me to have my diary. She told me I had taught her a lesson and that lesson was, :don't keep things in writing that you wouldn't be okay with someone else reading." I said that I agreed, that was something I was never going to do again. She went into her room and brought my diary back. Still she refused to give it to me. She said to me, "Get my letter we are going to burn these at the same time." I was panicked. That diary had a lot in it. I didn't want it burnt!!!! Still she was not backing down. I got the letter and at the same time we tossed our respective "blackmail" items into the fire. I was sick. I wanted to puke. I hated her. That diary was going to go to my first daughter. I told myself, "never again" I was not going to write about anything about anyone that could hurt them again. I cried myself to sleep that night over my loss. My father never knew about this incident. It wasn't like I could tell him.

well . . . here I am again . . .. out of words. That was hard but not near as hard as the last chapter. I had dealt with a lot of this guilt when God convicted me on my 41st birthday. Until my next title, I say to you, be kind to others. Don't blackmail. Keep secrets. Don't gossip.

Wendy, Mom of many

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Grounded for Losing My Virginity!

When I ended my last blog I closed my computer crying. This next year so many things happen and I was praying today for God to help me with how to start the next blog. I cannot write anything until I hear the title in my head. On my way to a fellowship gathering with ladies that I attend service with and honestly I was scared to death to go because I don't really KNOW a lot of them. I still have the evil one messing with me and my confidence. If he even gets a hint of fear he's on it! Anyway, all of a sudden I heard it. Out of nowhere. I was surprised at first and then I burst into a healthy bout of laughter. If I haven't mentioned it before God is humorous. Seeing how Jesus says if we know him we know the father, it only makes sense that God would be humorous for Jesus is! I needed that laughter. Along with it came the knowledge that I would be okay. So, what the heck . . . here we go!

I barely had time to grasp the fact that my mother was shipping me off to my father's on the pretense that I was "too much to handle" when I heard my father's car pull in the drive way. This was crazy! I had begged and pleaded to live with my father and had been told NO again and again. Now I was going to be sent there for staying out all night. She hadn't even waited to hear my side of the story. She had an opportunity to make me look bad and I just felt in my heart she was happy things had worked out this way. She could get rid of me and not look like it was because she was not close to me. Honestly I felt she barely knew who I truly was.

I don't know what my mom said to him on the phone but he was hot. He yelled at me to pack my stuff. No longer was I Wendy, Honor roll student, Best Christian, all around good kid. I was in major trouble. I don't know why I was attacked so viciously but my father was in my face demanding to know what I had done. I was so terrified by his anger I could not tell him I had been drinking. I told him I'd just hung out with Debbie nothing more. I was called a liar. I was marched out of the house with two trash bags full of all I owned and driven in silence to Westfield. My head was pounding and I just wanted the day to be over. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare.

I was sent to my room while they decided my fate. Since I had denied doing anything wrong I wasn't sure exactly what that punishment would be. I fell asleep waiting for them to come get me. When they woke me up I swear I thought my head was going to explode. To this day it remains the worst hangover I have ever had. I couldn't let them know how bad I felt for they might realize I'd been drinking and until my charges were handed down by my new found prison guard I had no idea just how low they thought of me. They were 100% positive that I had lost my virginity and for that I was going to be grounded for the summer as well as the first part of the school year! I was astounded. I denied it until I was blue in the face. Didn't matter. They were convinced even more so by my denial. As my step-mother used to say if you aren't guilty there is no need for defense. I even had my butt beat repeatedly for a crime I did not commit."Why is this happening?" I questioned God. It was probably my anger at my circumstance that kept him from answering me. It was the first time I could remember feeling like God was no longer listening to me.

My fate was sealed. I would work at the family construction company. I would earn minimum wage. I could play softball and basketball as long as I paid for the expenses and I was being signed up for marching band! Best part I was being held responsible for those costs as well. That one threw me for a loop! I'd played a clarinet in the 6th grade for music class. I didn't even remember a single note let alone the scale! As if all of that were not enough I also had to budget my book rental and school lunch as well as have a fund for unexpected school expenses. The reasoning behind having me pay for everything was so that I would appreciate it that much more.

My step mother who for some reason was playing soft ball herself but had not bought herself a mitt yet was thrilled to discover that my glove fit her hand. Since she wasn't sure she was going to join the team she was subbing for as a regular she was not interested in buying herself a glove yet. I think it was my 4th night there that we went and watched her play as a family. When the game was over and we had met back up I questioned where my glove was? Chris had mistakenly left it in the dug out. Of course when she went back to get it it was gone. She didn't even act like it was a big deal. I had had that glove since the first grade! When my mom first bought it and gave it to me it was ridiculously big. By the time I was in the 6th grade, it was like an extension of my hand. There wasn't a ball I couldn't catch with that glove. I was physically sick to my stomach over the loss. When I was asking if Chris knew what the cost was for joining the softball team she informed me that since I needed to budget in the cost of a new glove it was looking like that would not be a wise investment of time or money. I was astounded. I did not lose my glove. SHE did! There was no arguing that point. No use in even trying. I resolved that I would at least be able to play basketball in the fall.

Over the summer I taught myself how to play the clarinet. Surprisingly I liked marching band. Some of the greatest high school memories I have involve band camp and band competitions.

I hated having Chris for a boss though. She loved it a bit too much. She would have me filling pot holes in the driveway during storms when even the guys were being sent home . . .No better time to see where gravel was needed than in the rain she would tell me. The worst chore she gave me was pulling weeds. I informed her there was an area of poison ivy and I would not be able to work in that area. Who knew she'd have me dress in pants, a long sleeve shirt to protect my arms and gloves on a 80 to 90 degree day! Needless to say I ended up with poison ivy in my throat, my eyes . . . it was so bad. I ended up in the bathroom one night with a razor and I shaved every part of my body and then I doused myself in rubbing alcohol. I think I still needed a shot. For sure I took those little white pills. Misery. I started out my freshman year of high school knowing a few girls from band and looking like the ultimate pizza face! Acne has nothing on poison ivy!

Regardless I had made it through the summer and basket ball was around the corner. I loved that sport. The coach had us running a lot and I decided it would be in my best interest to build up my stamina so I began running a few miles while dribbling my basketball to take my mind off of running. This particular Saturday morning I managed to rip a contact while putting it in my eye. I didn't want to deal with a long lecture from Chris about how irresponsible I was for tearing my contact and how replacing it would effect my budget. I just wanted to get out of the house and have a little time to myself to talk to God. I was on my way back home. . .  less than 3/10 of a mile from our driveway when I recognized the Compton's vehicle as they drove by. I got back out in the middle of the road and squinted. I could see a station wagon on the West side of the road. I thought to myself must be the grandfather of the girl  who lived in the house after the woods . . . he was always mushroom hunting. Because I had one good eye and one bad eye for the most part I was looking down just in front of me. A male voice asked, "Playing ball?" I looked up and stopped dead in my tracks hand in mid air. I think the ball made contact but I failed to shove it back down . . . I heard it thump again and again as it thumped off the road. In front of me stood a naked man pointing a gun at me. I was frozen. The night before on the news there was a story about a few girls that had been found raped and murdered and left naked in fields. I screamed out to God in my head "This is NOT how I die! I haven't accomplished anything yet!!". I was shocked, confused, terrified. The naked man approached me. "Give me head" he demanded. "I don't know what that is." I stammered. . . frustrated he said then give me a hand job. I repeated to him, "I don't know what that is. He rolled his eyes and grabbed my hand forcefully and placed it where he wanted it. I jerked my hand back in repulsion and told him I can't do that. He ordered me to take off my shirt and then my bra. He ran the gun across both breasts burried the nozzle into my stomach and said, "I'll kill you if you move." With his other hand he proceeded to pinch one and with his mouth suck on the other and then he switched. I don't know what made me say, "Oh my here comes my father!" but I did. He barely glanced over his shoulder I went to step around him and he punched me with that gun right in the stomach. "Little girl I will kill you if you lie to me again." By the grace of God his face changed from hatred to terror and he ran from me jumped in his car and sped off. Suddenly there was Mrs. Compton asking if I was okay . . . I couldn't even talk . . . I think she told me to go home . . . honestly I don't know. . . somehow I got my shirt and bra back on . . . I never retrieved that ball. I came crashing into the house through the screen door. Cady, my baby sister, was on Chris' lap and they both looked at me and Chris asked what the heck was wrong with me. I was a mess. I can't fathom what I must have looked like. All I could say was, "Guy guy guy gun gun gun me me me" She asked me if I was making up a lie and I think I screamed. My sister will confirm that this is the most clear memory from her childhood. She claims she can still smell my sweat. Gross, I know. The police were called. I was given a soda for it's sugar. I was spiking a fever . . . a high fever due to shock. When the police arrived the main one that talked to me was a volunteer sheriff. He was also the driving instructor that was in the car with the Carmel High School Students whose lives were cut short on SR 38 due to a collision with a 7up truck. He informed my parents that I was in shock. My own mom wasn't even called to my knowledge. If she was . . . she did not come to see me. All I wanted to do was get in the shower and scrub my body clean. Finally I was allowed to do so. When the hot water ran out I dried off and went to my room to die. My father and step mother don't know but I heard their argument. It was the only time in my life that Chris argued for me. My father in a gist asked, "What is the big deal? She wasn't raped . . . besides she's not even a virgin. She probably brought this on herself." I closed my eyes and cried myself to sleep. These people raising me were so clueless as to who I truly was. What I was about. I was devastated. My stomach remained bruised for over two weeks. He'd gotten me pretty darn good for an old guy.

Some of you reading this will respect the fact that this chapter has left me exhausted. I thought I'd get farther than I did but I must stop here. I am crying too hard to go on. This is just the beginning of my sifting. The good news is I am here to share my story and I promise it has a happy ending! God Bless everyone who is following along. Thank you to those who have written me . . .. you give me courage to continue May you be Blessed 10 fold for you two have your own cross to carry and I appreciate what you have shared with me as well. I'll continue when the Holy Spirit gives me my next Chapter.

Wendy, Mom of Many