warning: semi-graphic mentions of child molestation/rape and PTSD.
Sometimes I wonder about the roots of my "sexuality".
No behavior or behavior tendency is completely nature or completely nurture, so exactly what part of my nurture produced a tendency to like other females?
Sometimes I think it's because I was molested - raped, abused, whatever term you prefer - when I was in kindergarten.
People think, when I say I was molested, it had to have been a man.
"Oh, that's why she likes girls, a man hurt her."
Nope. Vanessa. Her name was Vanessa.
Did being abused by a fellow female cause me to prefer females to males?
Sometimes I don't see how that makes any sense, sometimes it makes perfect sense.
It also makes me doubt what I feel about people, particularly people - girls - I fall in love with. Is it genuine? Sometimes I fear my motives, I'm terrified I'll become the person who hurt me. The terror of the thought of being sexually aggressive keeps me unwilling to even speak. I don't know how to explain that.
I had a flashback for the first time in a long time today. It wasn't a bad one, wasn't even from when I was younger and all that crap happened. It was from my freshman year of high school, when I spoke in front of the entire school and for the first time admitted to being molested. It was a flashback of what happened after that speech - two teachers of mine approached me and told me that they had been sexually abused and assaulted before, and even in their age, had never been able to reveal it to anyone.
Flashbacks fascinate me. They vary for all PTSD sufferers. Mine are dominantly visual. Do you ever move your head so fast that your vision gets dark, blackness flooding in from the outside in? That's what my flashbacks are, mainly. It's like a movie that you can't look away from, it covers everything else I see. If I try to look past the flashback, everything else is blurry. That's not to mention the sounds, the feelings, even the smell. It's all there, in this tiny moment. I can experience hours of perceptions and sensations and memories in five minutes, and it's all there. It used to take me over, or take me back, more accurately. Everything in the present would disappear, and I'd be 6 again locked in the bathroom with this woman.
I don't really have them anymore, my last major one was last year. It helps to be semi-in love, no matter how pathetic that endeavor might be. I'm not even depressed right now. I'm so happy. My only anxiety is that when this job is gone, this person will be gone. But maybe that's a good thing, because I'm afraid I'm the woman that hurt me and if I am that woman, I'll hurt someone.