LMV- part 6

November 14, 2008

   

Originally uploaded by ande.

 

 

I’m scared and all alone in my room. I tried to comfort myself by reminding myself that my mom loves me. I wondered how she would be able to trust me again. And I wondered who she was talking to on the phone. I concluded that it was my grandmother and felt horribly embarrassed… I did not know how much my room would protect me but I had to count my blessing that I’d made it this far. I knew this would be a long day but I thought the worst was behind me because my mom would eventually calm down. That was until I heard the front door open and I heard a growling, snarling voice yell,
WHERE IS HE?!!!
WHERE IS SHE?!!!


… It was my father’s voice. I have never even considered my dad finding out. I hoped beyond all hope that I would not die twice. I’d never heard my dad mad. When he was upset his voice would soften, he’d lower his gaze and slow his speech. In the past he was upset with me because I did not make my best effort in school. With a whispered tone he’d express his disappointment, never knowing with each word was stabbing my heart. I would say that for most of my life I was close to my mom, but I will always be a daddy’s girl. My dad was a loving, gentle and forgiving man. When he stormed into the house he slammed the door behind him and shook heart. Not only would my dad not love me anymore but he was going to kill me. I knew that my only option was to take whatever punishment my parents gave me with as much grace and gratitude as could express.

The concept of time disappeared as I waited to be summand. Instead I heard footsteps coming towards my room. My dad entered my room and sat beside the bed. I was floored. The monstrous inflection came from the man that sat beside me and I was no longer scared. I saw the love in his eyes and heard the comforting tone of patience in his voice. He took my hand and asked me the details of what happened. He asked if I’d had sex of my own free will, how many times I’d had sex, with how many boys and if I used protection. I answered him honestly: yes, four, two and no. He asked me if I was ovulating; I asked him how I can tell. He explained to me about the ovulation cycle and about the pain in the ribs as a sign. (Never learned that in school) I told him that I did not think I was. I don’t remember exactly how the conversation ended but I knew that he loved me, that he wanted the best for me and that I could talk to him about anything. As he opened the door to leave my room I saw my mom in the hallway. I could hear some of their whispers as my dad briefed my mom on our conversation. I did hear her ask,” How many times” and “With how many guys” and then, I could not hear the context but I heard the word “slut”. I was heartbroken. Did my mom think I was a slut? If she thinks I am then guess I am. I knew that that would have to change, but I did not know how.

I realized then I did not know how to say no, and did not know exactly why I should. My mom had a made it a point to tell me that sex was an important part of marriage and that you should make sure you are sexually compatible with you partner before you commit the rest of your life to them. I knew that fourteen was too young to have sex but I did not know a good age to start. I did not know how long you should be in a relationship before you start engaging and I did know how intimate you should get before you put the passion breaks on. I did not know how to tell if the person you’re with really loves you. I don’t want to be a slut and I don’t want a loveless marriage; I wanted a rule book. I knew that it did not exist and that I was going to have to determine the rules for myself.

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