Revelation

I was ten the first time I can remember reacting negatively.

My parents had pissed me off.  We'd been visiting friends of theirs and I hadn't wanted to go with them.  I'd wanted to stay in the hotel and watch some movie that was about to come on.  They'd made me go with them.  When we got there, I was looking for a way to show them exactly how mad I was.  I thought about breaking something.  I thought about being rude to their friends.  By the time they sent all of the kids to the back room I'd still not found a way to show my parents how mad I was.  Their friends had a son, he was 17, muscled, gorgeous and he kept smiling at me.  I bet you guys know where this story is going don't you?

You'd be wrong.

We played house.  Me and him, our younger siblings.  All of us packed in that room, the lights off and it was getting dark and he, we'll call him S, suggested that everyone go to bed.  Since he was the "daddy" and I was the "mommy" we laid next to each other away from everyone else.  He leaned over at one point and asked me if he could "do something" to my butt with his fingers.

What the hell?

I had laughed and said "That's how we got our kids."  Because at the age of 10, I wasn't a virgin (that's another story and one I'm not sure I'll ever share on here), so I knew what he meant when he said "do something."  He laughed and said "No, I'm serious.  Can I do something to your butt?"

Here was my opportunity.  I was going to get back at my parents.  I was going to let this older boy finger my ass and then I was going to tell my parents that I had LET him do it.  So I nodded and said yes.

I don't know what he used.  His saliva, Vaseline, hair grease (it's some that black people use for their hair just in case you didn't know)...all I know is that first he had one finger in my ass, then that one finger became two. I was in pain but I knew that pain was a part of sex, so I didn't say anything.  When his hand covered my mouth and those two fingers became three I became afraid.  What was he about to do?  When his fingers left my ass and he pulled my pants down even further and lifted my top leg, I knew then that he was planning to fuck me in my ass.

I changed my mind at that moment.  I started to try and push him away but his hand was held over my mouth and I was more concerned about the fact that my younger siblings were in the room.  So I stopped fighting and let him fuck me.

I had someone tell me that that was rape.  I think it would have been had I not agreed to it initially.  There's still some debate.  I saw S two years later and he apologized for raping me...right before he asked to have sex with me again.  By this time, I was drinking and had begun doing drugs.  More bad reactions to more bad things that happened to me.

So why am I writing this blog?

I learned a few years ago that it's natural for a person to react.  It's instinctual.  Someone does something nice for us, we react and say thank you.  It's someone's birthday that we care about and we react and say happy birthday or get them a gift.  If someone does something bad to us we react.  We want to retaliate.  We want to lash out.  We want revenge.  We cry.  We get mad, we cuss, we do things that we may regret later but our humanity is proven in the fact that we REACT.

I think sometimes that people forget that people react.  That we were all young once.  That when someone feels pressured or ignored or offended or trapped that they will lash out.  Sometimes the wrong person is hit and when that happens then the person who reacted needs to apologize, but once the apology is accepted then the incident needs to be forgotten.

We've forgotten how to forgive and forget.  When you forgive someone, TRULY forgive someone for something that they did, especially when it wasn't malicious or spiteful, then you forget that it ever occurred.  That's what true forgiveness actually is.

Yes, it hurts when we've been wronged, but an apology doesn't ease the emotional pain.  An apology CAN'T ease the emotional pain.  An apology shows that the person who did wrong is taking responsibility for their actions.  The healing of that emotional wound?  Well that's on the part of the wronged party.

I had to learn that the hard way.  I'm still learning it to some degree.  But when I think about all the times that I've been hurt, been suspected of being "selfish" or "self-centered" or "neglectful" or for even "being too private", when I think about the people who have wronged me, to a very serious degree...when I think of the malicious attacks on my person, I get angry all over, I hurt all over, I want to cry all over again...but then I remember how I REACTED the first time those things happened and the consequences of my REACTIONS.  Then I remember coming home to my mother with tears in my eyes, sobbing, begging for her to let me move back in.  I remember crying, begging for Christopher to forgive me for cheating on him...AGAIN.  I remember begging my best friend to help me kick my habit one more time because I wanted to go to seminary school and make my daddy proud.  I remember standing before a group of people and asking them to forgive me for turning my back on them at a time when they needed me the most.

Each time I remember those people forgiving me, giving me another chance and forgetting what had occurred.  I remember them welcoming back with open arms.  Most of all I remember them saying some version of, "Your actions hurt, but your reaction was understandable."

We have GOT to learn to display compassion to others.  To be quick to love and slow to judge.  To be slow to anger.  To observe the situation from the other person's point of view before we take offense and allow ourselves to be hurt, because no one has the power to hurt you unless you give it to them.  Most of all, we have to remember our own negative reactions to things so that we never sit in judgment when someone else reacts negatively, unless that reaction caused physical pain, financial ruin, or something equally destructive.

The biggest thing is this, as we mature we learn to think about our reactions, before we do them.  We feel the instinct but we've learned to hesitate and think before we do it.  When you're younger you haven't learned that yet, unless  you've been through a lot.  So when my baby cousin, at 9 years old, pushes someone who insulted me, I don't fly off the handle and berate him as I would someone who was 49 or even 19, because he is still a baby, I gently tell him that what he did was wrong and he reacted in a negative way.  Then I discipline him, tell him I still love him and then I forget about it.

Again (and I've said this in earlier posts), this is how mature adults handle things.  Yes, we still hurt, we still get angry, but we've learned to be quick to love, quick to forgive and slow to anger and hurt.  Slow to react.

That's my revelation.

I'm a Selfish, Possessive, Protective Bitch

I am brutally honest with everyone.  With friends, with family, with complete strangers, but especially with myself.  I have always known that I am protective.  I'm protective of those that I love, those that I care for.  Hell, in high school, I skipped school one day to go and beat my friend Angel's boyfriend's ass because he'd punched Angel and called him "a queer spic."  I'm not sure if I was more angry at the racial slur or the crack at his sexuality (especially because this guy was OBVIOUSLY gay too), but either way I was livid and when Angel showed up at school with a black eye and told us what happened, without thinking I gathered up my boys, we climbed in Justin's car when over to this jerkoff's house and when he answered the door, I beat the ever loving shit out of him.  Don't get me wrong he got a couple of hits on me also, but I was in an abusive relationship at that point so I'd learned how to take a couple of hits (that's a whole 'nother story right there).  Anyway after that everyone called me a "Crazy Ass Bitch" at school.  I was fine with that label, because before that I was either "slut" or "bitch," but atleast with this label people thought twice about messing with my friends or my siblings.

When I got in college I realized how selfish I was.  That selfishness sort of tied into the protective thing, because whatever or whoever I had welcomed into my life, or cared about, or claimed as belonging to me, was mine and I might share with you, but if I did and you abused it, well, my protective instincts flared up and I'd have to go all ape-shit on you.

It wasn't until recently that I realized how possessive I am also.  I don't know how many times in the last few months I've heard the word "MINE!" when thinking about a friend or a family member or one of my kids from the LGBT center group.  My friend.  My sibling.  My kids.  My mother.  My Tweepling (someone that follows me on Twitter) etc.

Anyway, I know you're probably wondering what brought this rant of mine on.  A few things actually.  They switched my VA doctor and that affected the LGBT teen group that I volunteer with because I won't be able to see them as often, which made my heart and mind flared up into "MY kids!" majorly.  I had that horrible day yesterday, and then today I read a post by one of "my" boys that so infuriated me that I honestly had to take my own deep breath.

I've been told by friends that it's because I'm a Scorpio and we wear our hearts on our sleeves, so it doesn't take much for us to fall for someone, to start to care for someone and to become protective over them because of that caring.  My friend Angel says it's just because my heart is so big.  I think it's because of all that I've gone through, seen and experienced.

I've always been the one who took on the plight of "the little people."  Even in high school, while I was being bullied for being black, ugly, skinny, flat-chested, nerdy, and a slut I always hung out with the outcasts and stood up for the people being picked on.  It was so easy for me to open my heart and my life to these people, especially to "the gays", because they were usually the ones who opened their hearts and lives to me.

So, anyway (let me finish this before I go chasing that rabbit down his hole *snicker*), I realized today while I was reading this post that I am a selfish, possessive, protective bitch.  I am of the mindset that you do not hurt my friends, and if you've hurt them in the past then you ask for forgiveness now, and do it quick before I find out about it or you're going to have to deal with me and I fight with precision and skill.  The Army taught me how.

And yes, I know not too many people want someone in their life with that kind of aggression and I can assure you, I am the nicest, sweetest, "most adorable" person 99.9% of the time.  However, when someone I consider a friend, or want to consider a friend, or a brother, or a sister, or one of my kids is hurt, well then 0.01% of the time, I'm out of my wheelchair, or off of my cane and it's like I was never injured in the Army and I'm kicking ass, either physically or verbally.

I told my Marmie about my little epiphany and she just laughed and said, "Oh Vee honey, are you just realizing this?  I knew this when at the age of 5, you beat up some 10 year old boy because he pushed two other little kids down at the park.  And these two kids?  One was 8 and one was 6, both older and bigger than you.  One of them was a boy and honey, neither of them were black.  You just looked at me and said 'Marmie, that boy just did something bad,' then you stomped off over to him, hit him in the stomach and then punched him in the nose, before pushing him to the ground."  I was shocked because I swear I don't remember doing this, I asked her what she did and she said that after she got over her initial shock, I got a "whupping" (which is TOTALLY different from the "spankings" that other kids get.  If you have a black friend ask them to describe the horror of a "whupping"-LOL) for fighting.  Probably why I blocked it out.

But that's me, male, female, man, woman, boy, girl, gay, straight, bisexual, transgendered, cross dresser, hermaphrodite, tri-sexual, bi-curious, atheist, Christian, Jew, Buddhist, Wiccan, Hinduist, Muslim, black, white, hispanic, asian, indian, native american, it doesn't matter to me, I fall for the heart of a person.  Sometimes I can tap into that heart from just a simple "Vee, I read your profile and you seem so cool, I'd love to get to know you better!" or an offhanded "Thank you for your service" or even a deeper "You're worth replying to," but I trust my instincts and my intuition and since I have this "really big heart" that I "wear" on my "sleeve" I open my heart to people quicker, easier than most others and yes, that sets me up to have my heart broken and crushed a lot more often than others as well, but because of that, my heart heals quickly so that the next person can move right on in and once you're in, all I want to do is protect you, take care of you, make you happy and yes, be selfish, possessive and protective as hell over you, but I think it's worth it.

I have bought friends cars, performed weddings and civil ceremonies, played matchmaker, babysat, gone on road trips, helped friends find jobs, apartments, houses, flown all over the country and the world just to comfort them or to share in their joy, to be there when they perform on Broadway for the first time or to help them eat Rocky Road ice cream when they find out that their partner of the last eight years has been cheating on them and gave them AIDS.  I do these things without blinking, without hesitation, because I love and I love hard, fiercely and forever.  And I'm not saying these things to make myself seem like some amazing, superwoman, because I'm not.  I am hopelessly flawed (to quote Jo March from Louisa May Alcott's "Little Women") and I'm bold and blunt about those flaws and I can get to the point where I just take a few days and go off by myself with no word to anyone, just to have some "ME" time, but I am me.

I am a selfish, possessive, protective, loving, giving, understanding, compassionate, funny, talented, trusting, trustworthy, honest, loyal, faithful and caring....bitch.