I have not been afraid exploring the hows, why's and what if's of the world in my early years of existence. So many times I was reminded by my parents of my stubborness and eagerness to do a certain thing whether it'll do me good or it'll do me bad. I have been a lawyer of myself who keeps on defending my acts and my behaviour. The word impulsive is best to describe my personality.
I remember when I saw two animals making love while on a trip with my parents, I innocently asked, "What are they doing?". I saw my mother's eyes rolled and seeking an aid from my father to provide an appropriate answer. At last, my father replied, "They are making a baby?" So I stopped for a while and reckoned something...something about making a baby. I then asked, "Can you tell me how to make a baby?", I asked it maybe because I was dying to have a little brother or a sister. So my father once again answered, "You are going to need a clean sheet of paper and draw a picture of a baby. When drawing is finished, place the paper on your mother's tummy and rub it continuously so the drawing will be transferred inside the womb and grow later on."
My father's careful explanation made me think and made me confused at the same time. It was so silly and my mind wants to refuse that crap. I convinced myself that his answers are nothing but lies. So I made it clear to myself that I won't be waiting for the right time to know all the answers to my questions when I can clearly learn them now. So that's the reason why I am fond of books or any reading material which can help me understand the things I need to know.
The inquisitiveness within me seemed to be more intense while I was drawing near to the stage of puberty. It was some sort of a rush to make the uncertain...certain. This is where I began exploring my sexuality.
I was thirteen then when I started to feel the eagerness towards everything. It was Saturday night when I was left alone. My folks attended a party and an elder cousin of mine was asked to stay over and look after me. He was glued infront of the box and nonchalantly watching an animated film then. I must know because I was peeping. I went inside my room and left the door unlocked.
And suddenly, a not-so-new feeling come rushing over me. In a very abrupt manner, I was undressed and grabbed on the way to the bathroom. The door banged and was locked. I found myself awkwardly positioned on the floor and was helpless. It was like another element inside that room had overpowered my petite body. I was feeling warm all over and aroused at the same time. I knew I was being abused and should not have been in this kind of situation. But I could not cry and I failed to resist the sensation.......until I had finally given in.
I tried reciprocating and pushed myself with the flow. I could not explain the feeling but all I remember was the body rush. I couldn't shout and I couldn't stop myself from whining at that instance. Until the commotion reached its point. I realized that everything was done between resistance and sanction, between pleasure and pain, between torment and nirvana.
Finally, it was over. The urge had been long gone. The temperature subsided. And I was left at the similar position....thinking.....this had been my long-awaited answers.....all I needed was this. Was it sane to be blissful after all the torture I surpassed? Was it normal to smile after I was raped? It's been difficult to admit, but I was raped.
I was raped...by me.
(iris castro)
