#3: Betrayal of Trust

One would think that in one's own family, a person would be safe.  Your family is the one place where you're known and you know, and you look out for one another... that's just the way it should be.  However, that was not my experience.  I felt very much like we were six people who lived in the same home, but who were not a cohesive unit that was close and that loved each other.  I definitely felt a lack of emotional support and connection.  Unfortunately, that set the stage for a whole lot of heartache.

TRIGGER WARNING!

It is sufficient to say that one of my brothers was addicted to pornography; he had literally STACKS of magazines in his room, three to four feet deep, and he spent a lot of time alone in his room with his magazines.  It probably comes as no surprise that this brother was a hormones-raging teenager who sexually molested me.  He was seven years older than I am; I don't know exactly when it happened, but if he was 17, I was 10; if he was 19, I was 12.  If he was 16, I was 9.  I can recall two specific incidents, and I don't think there were any more.  The most egregious incident also involved one of his friends.  They came into my room after a night of drinking and I awoke to someone’s hand inside my panties, touching me.  I don’t remember what they asked me exactly, whether it was to be able to look or to touch, or if they wanted to do something, but I said ‘No’.  They had a whispered conversation as to how to proceed and then left my room.  I ended up sitting up most of the night with the window stick in my hand for defense, but thankfully they never came back.  To think of a big brother actually taking a friend into his little sister's room with such plans in mind sickens me.  They never told me not to tell anyone, but I never did - not for a long time.

In the other incident that I recall, this same brother asked (over and over, pleading and cajoling) if he could look at my private area.  I reluctantly agreed, but he was only allowed to look.  I don't know if he just couldn't handle it or if it was his plan all along, but suddenly he just had to touch.  I told him I didn't want him to do that, and he stopped.

There was a lot of 'playing doctor' that went on with the kids in the neighbourhood, and a lot of my friends were very interested in my brother's magazines.  This curiosity and acting out sexually seemed to be very pervasive.  I recall one incident in which a very close older girl asked me to 'lick her'.  I didn't really know what that was all about, and I refused.

When I was in grade 12 we had a visit from an uncle and aunt from out east (the same uncle who sent all the crude gifts).  This uncle liked to put his arm around your shoulders and then his hand would continue on down and find your breast.  I told my father that my uncle had groped my breast, and his response was for me to 'kick him in the balls'.  So, let me get this straight; his brother had come all the way across the country to visit – and I'm going to just turn around and kick him in the nether regions.  Nothing was ever said or done about this.

There were never any conversations about sex or sexual behaviour.  My mom had books from the doctor that talked about puberty etc., and my sister explained all the things that a girl could expect to happen, because my mother was not willing or able.  Otherwise, I knew my mother believed that a girl should be a virgin when she gets married.  That was it.

Something that was very hard to get my head around was the fact that my mother would buy my brothers (in their higher teen years) and my father a Playboy calendar every year for their Christmas stocking.  So there was a bonfire raging in her son's bedroom and here she's throwing firewood in through the door.

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