Chapter 1: Part 2

Is there a point where nature overpowers nurture? Where a biochemical problem outweighs the amount of love you’re receiving? What if you’re not receiving much love to begin with? Is it nature or nurture to blame for your shortcomings?
I’m studying to be a neuropsychologist; worst case scenario a neurologist. You might sayI’m shooting high – I suppose that’s true. It’s my scholastic duty to ask these questions, and study them. Hell, I’ll probably write a thesis on them one day.
I haven’t done any research on the subject. When I talk about this, I speak onlyfrom personal experience. Personally, it’s a question I think about every day.


There are some days that are just unbearable. There are some things you should not haveto put up with, especially not as a child. Everyone has had to put up with their fair shareof childhood crap. Some of us more than others.

“If you don’t have confidence, you’ll always find a way not to win.”
– Carl Lewis

Carl Lewis is right. I was robbed of my confidence by some teenage punk when I was eight years old, and I found tons of ways not to win for the rest of my life. Sometimes, Istill lose things that I should be able to win.

The rape changed me.

The Joker (played by Heath Ledger in ‘The Dark Knight’) says:
“Madness is like gravity. All it takes is a little push.”

I was pushed over and over again, and people never cease to be amazed how crazy I am, deep inside.

Genetic? Or environmental?


The raped changed me.

As a child, I became a very different little girl. Who wouldn’t? But no one knew what happened, so to them, it was a mystery.

From that day on, I was terrified of teenage boys. Boys in general really. My best friend at the time was a boy – after “the incident” I cried and begged my mom not tomake me play with him anymore. Too bad – he was the only boy that didn’t fuck me up.
I was also a lot quieter. It was difficult for even my grandmother to get a conversation out of me. No one could figure it out, because I’ve been told I was a talker since a young age, and rarely was quiet for long periods of time.
When I did talk, I lied a lot. Sometimes I would make up a story and confess it was fake right after I told it. Other times they were more calculated lies that were, like any good lie, partially based on the truth. Those I delivered masterfully and told over and over. No one was the wiser.
I clung to my baby dolls, Rosie and April, protecting them from the stares of adults and teenagers alike.
I read a lot, and increased time spent alone with my toys to avoid other children. I liked fantasy more than reality. I quickly became obsessed with the Harry Potter books, and read the first one in two days. That was before it was super popular – almost immediately after they were released actually.
Soon I began writing stories of my own. Two Microsoft pages seemed like a feat at nine years old, but I frequently did so in a matter of hours. Most important of all, I never talked about my visits with dad unless asked a direct question, which I usually deflected anyway.

I was soon 11 and in middle school – there I discovered something odd:
Boys my age wanted me, but never forced me to do anything I didn’t want to do.
My caution was never thrown to the wind, but I learned how to control a relationship (even simple friendships) with little to no effort. All a girl really has to do is learn how to touch the right way, how to kiss the right spot, and how to be quiet about any favors, and then she can have whatever she wants from boys.
[It’s really not that much different with women and men – maybe just a little. But that’s a story for another day.]
I also learned that boys did not care if you talked about your past or not; they didn’t care what your family was like, or how you were as a child. That gave boys a distinct advantage over girls my age, who were obsessed with talking. Boys were easily manipulated, which I liked. I got along with boys much better than girls.
Then, still in middle school, I met him – the boy I would have sold my left arm for – a boy that I wanted to do very bad things with as soon as possible. I decided to sit on the idea for a while, and did for a full year. Joe was destined to be my Achille’s Heel.

In the interim, I met a girl that changed my life. A girl that I did very, very bad things with. Having sex with a girl was simple and uncomplicated; it was fulfilling and non-threatening. The love part – that was immensely difficult. I had never loved anyone before; and I was still intoxicated by the power I had over boys, and soon, men.
I did love her though, and she loved me. That was almost enough… but life threw mea curve ball.

Life threw me cancer – and not in my own body either.
[But that is a story for another day]

My love gained quickly became a love lost, suffice it to say; and I am forever changed.

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