Date: Fri, 31 Jul 1998 13:37:20 PDT From: Linda Flower Subject: [WRITERS] This is My Story (cont) Those of you who have responded to my intro have asked for a little more. So here it comes. Just remember it's very rough. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- I think for little Jimmy, who was five when I was born, it was pure, unadulterated hatred. But I will tell more of that later. My very first memory is one that still makes me a little sick to my stomach. I was two, maybe even three years old. It was the early of summer, a gray afternoon. Momma was out selling Avon, or some other such thing, trying to help make ends meet. Daddy and I were home alone, which almost never happened in our house. It was exciting I had my Daddy all to myself! I approached him, somewhat nervously, as he was a very large, intimidating man. Daddy, will you play with me? I asked, clutching my favorite doll just a little tighter to my chest. Sure, I ll teach you how big people play house. My heart leapt with joy. Not only was he going to play with me, but he was going to teach me to play like a grown up. I climbed up on the couch next to him. Awaiting the instructions for this new version of the game I loved to play. Take of your pants. This struck me as kind of strange. Modesty was something that I had seen beaten into the other kids, so I know I shouldn t be stripping in the middle of the afternoon. I must have given him that look, the one that says, I don t get it. It s okay. Go ahead. Actually, I was relieved. Those fortrel pants always burned my legs. So, I followed his orders and disrobed. He lifted my onto his knee. His gigantic hands groped at my crotch. What was this game he was playing? Whatever it was, I certainly didn t get it, and I know I didn t think it was all that fun. After a while he asked me if I liked it. No. I replied. Then he began to explain. Maybe I was just too little to play Daddy s games, but there would come a day that I would love this new game. Many boys would want to play with me in just such a manner. It would be the most fun I could ever have, And remember, Daddy gave you your first lesson. I know that later on, I destroyed my favorite doll. I didn t understand what I was feeling then, and I still can t put words to it. I wanted no part of anything that had happened that afternoon. So I scribbled all over dolly and ripped off her head, knowing full well broken toys were not kept around our house. Daddy never touched me that way again. At least not that I recall. He just made inuendos, embarassing and degrading. They filled me with a shame that would take years to reach beyond. ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com