Monday, March 19, 2012

A Quest for Help

She screamed and cried out in pain, her arms flailing and her legs kicking as she tried to fight off her attackers. Tears rolled down her face and she screamed as one man replaced the other and her violation continued. Her left shoulder pulled out of joint as she was held down and her soul was torn apart as she realized that this was what her father had done, this was what the exchange of money was for. Her father had sold not only her virginity, but her soul and a large chunk of her spirit to the highest bidder. Her cries for help were met with fists to her stomach, hands to her mouth and furious growls telling her to shut the fuck up.

She was four and no one heard her cry for help.

The same girl six years later is being raped again, this time there was no money involved, but the tragedy is just as bad. This time she is being raped anally, with her siblings in the same room, her cries for help are muffled behind her attacker's hand as he grunts in her ear. When she tells her mother, she is chastised for "letting" the boy do that to her. She is told that she is wrong for letting it happen and knowing that her mother feels this way, she cannot share her shame that she enjoyed it a little bit and that to her, she felt that that was the only way that she should be having sex. That she shouldn't actually have a vagina in the first place.

That she should in fact be a boy.

Taking a shower at her mother's command, she scrubs herself raw, until she bleeds, desperately longing to be clean again. Her shower is over, but the feeling of shame lingers. She cannot feel the way that she does, the way that she always has. There's something wrong with her and perhaps her attacker could see it? Perhaps he knew what she only dreamed of, that she should have been a boy, but more than that, he saw that there was a part of her that while her entire being hated being violated, a part of her longed to have sex in that way.

She'd cried for help, but no one heard her.

This same girl begins drinking a year later and is an alcoholic by the time she turns twelve. She turns to drugs, beginning with marijuana, turning to cocaine and ecstasy by the time she's thirteen. She's depressed and suicidal, she prays for death, she's anorexic and bulimic, obsessed with looking like a girl, a beautiful girl, because beautiful girls don't get raped or sold into prostitution. Girls who actually act like girls, who don't want to be boys, aren't the ones who are attacked, it's only the ones who are boys on the inside, acting like girls who are beat up and raped...right?

Three more rapes occur. Two abusive relationships. Six suicide attempts. Within six years.

She's crying for help, hoping that someone will tell her that it's okay to be him, it's okay to be himself. It's okay to tell someone what has happened, it's okay to be angry, to be sad, to be hurt and broken.

He's hoping that someone, anyone, will care enough to hold him, to hear his cry for help and tell him that everything will be okay, that it will get better.

He's waiting for someone to finally help him.

The Exodus Project Group Home

I got the idea for TEP-GH when I was a sophomore in high school, when I was crying out for help and no one could hear me or would take the time out to help me. My addictions and promiscuity, my eating disorders, depression, suicide attempts, my misplaced anger and apathy were all cries for help, but no one was listening. There were no resources in Polk County, Florida to help a troubled teen beyond juvie, the mental institution and the church, whose solution was prayer and baptism.
I eventually overcame the tragic hell that my life had become. It took years before I got off drugs and realized that I was more than my body. Years before I decided to live my truth and came out a a transgender male homosexual. Years before I told someone the horror and abuse that I'd suffered as a child.
Twenty-eight years before I finally asked for help.

I don't want to hear about another teenager committing suicide or another teen being kicked out of their home for coming out, for living their truth, by overzealous religious parents and being forced to live on the streets, selling their bodies to get money for food, in order to eat. It sickens me and makes me sad.

Yes, I know I could give money and sign petitions, I can do "It Gets Better" videos and tweet about it and I've done all of those things, but to me, for me, that's not enough.

So yes, I'm still writing, but I'm also working on my main goal, my biggest dream and the deepest desire of my heart which is the group home for at-risk and homeless teenagers, with an emphasis on rainbow kids. Because the transgender boy from the beginning of this post was me. That was my journey, my truth, my story.

I didn't have anyone who helped me before I got in high school and had friends who I could run to when I didn't have anyone else. I know that I'm an exception to the rule, a "walking miracle" as my Granny Mary used to call me. I'm aware of this. But I don't want that to be a truth, I want to help. I have to help. For the 12 year old me who took his first sip of whiskey to dull the pain. For the 13 year old me who had his first hit of cocaine because he knew that if he told his parents that he was really a boy that they would kick him out and disown him (because they'd told him as much in a round about way), and he really just didn't want to deal with reality. I know that I have to do more.

So this is what I'm working on when I'm not writing or doing covers or talking to the boy or working on stuff for Rooster & Pig. I'm working on this, because I know that in order for me to change or save the world, I have to start somewhere. And I'm choosing to start here.

-Vicktor Aleksandr B


  1. It's a good place to start. :)

    *hugs* Love you. It really saddens me to hear how your childhood went. I'm glad you survived it and you're living strong now.

  2. Vic, I am crying for you, and for what you went through, and that you made it to the other side. I know we've talked a little about addiction, and that before. I'm on your side. In fact, I am hoping to start school soon so that I can be on my way to becoming a substance abuse counselor. I want to work with LGBTQQ teens. Because only WE can understand where WE came from. Only addicts can understand the powerful lure of the alcohol and drungs. We've been there. I think your idea for a group home for rainbow kids is awesome. I think they are needed in many places. Much much much love to you. Find out about government grants, and find out what you need to do to get one. (I am currently looking into taking a grant writing course, but haven't found one yet in my area.) Keep on doing what you do. You'll change the world, even if its only one person at a time.

  3. Sounds like you are off to a good start. It just takes one step, or one little push to get momentum. I'm right behind ya too. =)

  4. Everyday you amaze me more and more...I am so blessed to have you in my life....whatever you need YOU always have me here for you ALWAYS


  5. Well, I should begin by thanking you--but the words I type here are woefully inadequate to express what is in my heart.

    I know--I know this is silly--but bear me out please:

    V--valiant--one who stands up and steps in front of those who are weaker, those who have no voice and defends them, shelters them, cares for them with a compassion borne out of experience---this describes you, dear man.

    I--intrepid---one who pushes forward without care for the cost to one's own self. One who strives to move forward when the past and it's pain and anguish threaten to keep them locked there. One who stands and shouts at a hating world, I have the right to be the man I was intended to be free. This is who you are, sweet man.

    C--compassionate--one who puts aside their own anguish and cares for the pain of another. Who loves with a selflessness that cries out to others--with me, you are safe...with me, you are loved. One who decides that no matter what hell they have gone through, that no one else should experience that kind of pain--not on their watch. You are this and so much more, brave man.

    Vic, I cannot begin to understand the depth of betrayal and loss you have experienced--but I can be grateful that you had the courage to survive--because you have been an amazing blessing to so many--and your love had carried many through hard times.

    I am honored to know you.

  6. Now that I have wiped away the tears and can see clearly...You truly are an amazing person Vic! To endure all that you have and survived and still have so much love and compassion inside...that is truy amazing! I have no doubt that will accomplish your goal and all those that you are able to help will be truly blessed because of you! You have touched so many hearts already and you have many people to love and support you now! You have all my support and truly hope you know how wonderful you are!!


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