Another broken night of sleep (TW abuse)
I have been having broken sleep most of the night and finally gave up. So I decided to write as I have some things on my mind. This might be triggering for some people as I am going to talk about sexual abuse as well as neglect. It has to do with my mother. She was always interested in my genitals. I even have pediatric reports of how she brought me to the doctor because she thought my vagina was closing. It wasn’t. but it didn’t stop her from examining me. Then when I started developing she became interested in my breasts. She noticed that one was larger than the other so did her exam first before we went to the doctor. She would always stare at me when I got out of the shower. She even noticed when my labia was large. She touched it which lead to another “exam”. I didn’t bring it up to the doctors but my mother did. The doctor said it was fine. I don’t think she believed her. It was twisted. I felt so ashamed all the time with my body because I thought things were wrong with it. I hated the way my body was, especially when I started gaining weight.
I told one person about this and because at the time I was underage, she had to tell my mother what we talked about. I never talked about it again after that. My mother slapped my face, calling me a liar. I never spoke of it again. But the fact remains she did what she did. My mother never really showed love growing up. We had a violent father so it was hard because we had to “please” him so he wouldn’t lose his temper and start hitting us or my mother. Sometimes my mother would hit us when we did something wrong. I remember my middle sister did something bad and she got spanked by my mother. I don’t remember what she did but my mother was furious. I was afraid I was going to be next but I wasn’t.
My teenage years was rough. I was mostly depressed. I had few friends. I mostly kept to myself. I hated my mother’s side of the family because they didn’t challenge my father’s “don’t talk to us” stance. Only my aunt, my mother’s youngest sister did. I was grateful because she and her daughters were what I considered family.
I knew I was a boy but I could never say it. I was afraid of being laughed at or worse, beaten for my thoughts. I felt like my mother didn’t care about me most of the time. As long as I was going to school and making the grades was ok to her. I did my own thing. I created my own world until it fell all apart. I had to choose between lives and hoped I chose the “real” one.
I always thought I was a man growing up. I look at myself now and I don’t know how I was put in the wrong body. My pre t pic shows me as androgynous. I just became a man when hormones were added. I feel more like myself. Things are more congruent now since I have had top surgery. Now I just need to lose the belly fat and I think I can be more comfortable with myself. My mother has died so I will no longer be under her glare. She didn’t want me to have surgery. But if I was to live, I had to have it. I don’t like that one nipple is bigger than the other. That is my only complaint about it but I don’t care because they don’t function as nipples anyway. I have no feeling. It was aesthetic only. And they don’t even look like nipples. Just overgrown skin really, slightly bigger than I would have liked.
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