Being A Victim of Unseen Sexual Abuse
something many of us face and do not know
I am asexual. This has been discovered at last. My interest in sexual activity is gone along with the realization. Understandings of sexuality within me have been unveiled a lie to begin with.
I’ve been raped. People lie about intentions they have for relationships and then use people sexually—sometimes they don’t even know they’re lying. They compartmentalize what they truly want and speak of projected superficial veneers that would make them feel appropriate in allowing addiction to rule their life.
People pleasing was always a fault of mine. While it’s a good thing to help others—doing so in sacrifice of yourself is a fatal flaw. It has killed me over and over through life to allow people the benefit of the doubt and work directly from my subconscious to please them.
Many of my peers are sexual addicts in denial.
They will gaslight women by using the term ‘limerence’ into denying the simple truth of love, believing it as some falsehood of delusion, unseeing that as the projection of defensiveness it is, because they don’t know what love is themself.
I’m as complacent in my abuse as my abusers. They are no more responsible than I am; indirectly but completely responsible.
Just because you don’t know what you’re doing doesn’t make it okay. Just because someone did it to themself as well does not invalidate liability between community members.
When I began transition into owning my womanhood in a physical way—and long before, when lying about who I was—I’d try to get someone to love me by pleasing them. I’d do it anyway I could and it made me feel really great when I knew I’d delivered something effective. I was a manipulator like every addict—like us all.
I’d be proud for my displays of prowess once transitioning and exploring sexually with others—always forgoing my own desire to please—feeling the plan was divine for me to let go of my own will. In fact, of truth, releasing my will was what I had to do for taking part at all, because at my root nature I am an asexual person who craves love by means of touch and kiss and care without sexual submission involved at all. Reflection shows me I feel this as innately demeaning to the love I deserve for who I am in my heart and mind.
The communities which accept a transgender woman such as myself are the deepest in denial. They are the blindest mice, thinking themselves all-seeing eyes. They are addicts and rapists and manipulators and feel themself most virtuous in the way they destroy each other and laugh—finding accomplice only with those others who share space in hating themselves with equal ignorance.
Perhaps with time left unraped as a trans youth in an adult body, I would have matured my feminine self into a sexual being—I did not have that luck.
No one has been my friend as I’ve hoped for the most in my many releasing endeavors to others, who have promised things in lie then torn them away after taking the sex their subconscious desires were truly in want of. They gaslight and shame and twist the truth—try to make me feel wrong as we part to occlude their own corruption. Their conscious mind cannot accept the reason for their cruelty towards me as the sexual addiction it is.
I’m forever a child now because of how I was sexually abused in my feminine youth. I’m not going to pretend to be interested in anything I’m not. That’s going to help. You all should try doing the same.
