1974 – The Teacher’s Lesson

I never went to a regular school like most kids do. My mother had hired private teachers to teach my sisters and me at home.  They came and went… Among them were a couple… husband and wife and they both came highly recommended.

I was 8, almost 9 years old… That summer my parents had to go to Italy for a funeral. They left me in the hands of my teachers for 10 days. I was raped by a grown man. I don’t have a very clear memory of this… but I do remember the pain…  and the terror…  He said he would hurt my sisters if I’d say anything and he also told me that he had my mother’s permission to do this…

There is no way that I can describe the pain and the terror that I felt that night…there are no words strong enough to describe that… but ….this was my first experience of sexual abuse but it wasn’t my last… It continued…  I didn’t always get a chance to heal in between.

He shouted: “Please don’t leave me with these people. They are bad!”

“Mommy!!” he cries. His tiny body shivers and he remembers the pain… He remembers what will happen if he tells. Mommy knows he has to feel pain. He cannot be put to sleep – the kind he will not wake from.

“Mommy you can beat me, you can give me burning drinks. You can cut my skin but please don’t leave me with these people. I will be good and do all the things you tell me to do… I will make my blood run…”

But she doesn’t care… she doesn’t hear….

“They can do whatever they want,” she replied and walked away…

(Bits from my journal – written November 1978)

When you are 9 years old you don‘t have the language to describe such an act… You don‘t know what is happening…. or why it is happening…. You don‘t know it‘s rape…. and you don’t know it’s wrong… or not your fault…

When you’ve been beaten and tortured for a while this is just yet another way to hurt you to punish you for just existing… When “it” has become a part of your existence you don’t even realize it is wrong… At 13 you only exist because your heart is still beating and your lungs still draw oxygen into your body…  and you really don’t care anymore… or you care in such a way that you have started to believe them when they tell you why they have to do this…

You had the chance at 17 to escape… but you didn’t… They’ve distorted your mind… you don’t know that… but you do “what you have to do” and you don’t talk to anyone about it…

I never did go to a regular school like most kids do. My mother had hired private teachers to teach my sisters and me at home. The teachers were a couple, husband and wife and they both came highly recommended.

I was 8, almost 9 years old…

That summer my parents had to go to Italy for a funeral. They left me in the hands of my teachers for 10 days.

I was raped by a grown man.

I don’t have a very clear memory of this… but I do remember the pain…  and the terror…  He said he would hurt my sisters if I’d say anything and he also told me that he had my mother’s permission to do this…  

There is no way that I can describe the pain and the terror that I felt that night…there are no words strong enough to describe that… but ….this was my first experience of sexual abuse but it wasn’t my last… It continued…  I didn’t always get a chance to heal in between…  

About a year after the first time he moved away and got a job somewhere else…

I was about 12 or 13 when he came back. He had divorced his wife… He came for a visit and stayed with my mother for a day…

He started to come for visits and I really thought that was good because my mother was a different person when he was around… she had other things to think about than me …at least for a while…

At first they made me watch them having sex… but later I was also participating… I knew this wasn’t normal…  I knew this wasn’t normal for a teen son to do with his mother….

He left again…

But still I had to ‘be there’ for my mother…  I was 27 when she died… married with 5 children…  yet I was ‘there’ for her…

I wonder… When is “it” sexual abuse? … and when is it not?

…being raped repeatedly from the age 9 years by another male… yes… that’s defiantly sexual abuse…

…being forced to engage in sexual acts as a teenager… yes… “Forced” being the key word…

But what about when forcing is not (no longer) needed… and or after the age of 20…?

…and I know …if this was about anyone one else than myself I’d defiantly consider that last part as abuse as well…

but in my case… it doesn’t feel right…

it’s probably guilt… or shame ..or something like that… or I should/shouldn’t have….could have kind of thing…

…whatever it is… thinking about it makes me feel disgusting and sick off myself … more than any other part of my life…

 

  1. Broken Butterfly Wings Gabriel J Arsante 7:27
  2. Coldplay - A Sky Full Of Stars - Piano Cover Gabriel J Arsante 4:30
  3. No. 11 Piano Gabriel J Arsante 2:57
  4. Forever in my Heart Gabriel J Arsante 3:36
  5. Chopin Piano Concerto No. 1 - Movem. II - Romance, Larghetto Gabriel J. Arsante 9:58
  6. Canon In D 2014 Gabriel J. Arsante 2:28