The other day I saw the picture above. I think I was about 5 or 6 years old. I am sitting atop of a tank that was at this military museum or something in Maryland where my Aunt and Uncle lived. Every time I see that picture it reminds me of what I am about to tell you.
I was molested when I was a child by my Uncle Frank. God that feels weird saying that. (he is not alive any more so he got what was coming to him) But I have always wondered how many other children he did that too. Did he do it to his own children? I have never got up enough nerve to ask my cousins, probably because I only see them once a year at the family reunion if they show up (or if I show up). I was even molested by some of my babysitters, that would take me into the closet and feel me out. I mean really...WTF? What would a child of 5 or 6 have that they would want to feel? These girls were like in their 20s or even 30s. All I can think was that they were molested too and this is what they knew.
My Uncle Frank (which I hate even admitting he is my uncle) was in the military and was a strict father. But when we would go over to spend a night and play Batman and Robin with our cousins...I would somehow end up in his lap after everyone went to sleep.I dont know how...but I did.
I remember him kissing me so hard that my lips hurt. And his stubble on his face poked into my skin like thorns from a rose bush. I remember just not knowing what to do and staying very still, not moving an inch ...I literally felt like a piece of meat. I knew it was wrong what he was doing to me but I had no idea why he was doing it, and I was scared.
I always wondered what kind of impact that had on me, and I think I know now. It made me shy away from being able to show affection to my children and in some ways... to anyone. I always felt like I could not hug on my children the way a Father should, in fear of them having some sort of thought that I was molesting them. I was fearful of them thinking that, can you imagine? I remember times when my daughters would come sit on my lap and I felt uncomfortable about that , all because of that fear.
Aside from stealing some of my fatherhood....they stole some of my childhood innocence. Oh how I hate them all for doing that!
I tried to not let it effect me as I grew older, and for the most part, it didn't. I do remember seeing Frank in his wheelchair (from a distance) after he had developed Alzheimer's and I recall thinking to myself....oh yeah...now the Bastard cant remember any of the terrible things he did to children.
By the time I grew to my twenty's and thirty's I had blacked it out from my memory and never mentioned it to anyone except Kim. I figured that if I didn't think about it then it never happened. That worked pretty well for me for the most part. I had opened up one day and told my family about it, and after that day I felt better about it and it didn't seem so dark anymore. It was mainly due to my Brothers who would made jokes about it. The main joke came when one of them put their hand on my leg and said with a very serious look on his face "Can I be Frank?"
I laughed aloud because it was pretty funny. (cmon, even you chuckled a bit didn't you?)
I have come to terms with all of the past...but will never forget what that did to me as a man. I have such a hate towards pedophiles that if I had a choice with what to do with them once they were caught....I would give them the death penalty....the worst kind imaginable...boiling. :) That's just something that I will never understand....why anyone would want to do any type of sexual activity with a child...I mean...I just don't get it. They have got to be Mentally Disturbed.
So now when my brothers ask me "Can I be Frank?" I always say, "well you have got the pervert part down pretty well."
I am a firm believer in "What goes around...Comes around" so I really think Frank is paying his debts to the devil right now. (Not a very Christian thought, I know...but that's just how much I despise this man)
So OK, I am posting it...Now it is no longer one of those dark secrets you keep in the closet (no pun intended) And now you know something that only my readers will know about me. Aren't you Special?