As a child my body was always seen as something to be ashamed of. I remember comments from my parents that “little girls don’t walk around the house in only underwear without pants, ” at about 4 years old. But my dad and brother’s could walk around in their boxers.

When I started elementary school, I attempted to hang upside down on the monkey bars like the other boys, but was quickly pulled aside by one of the teachers and scolded as it was “unladylike.”

When I wanted to spit on the ground like a “Texan” as my older brother did, a senior woman came up to me and said, “young ladies should behave better.” When I wanted to fart or belch, or scratch my inner thigh or sit with my legs open it was always “NO NO NO! You KNOW better than to act like a boy. You are a young lady and you can’t do this or that like the boys can.”

I began to feel self conscious. As if I was a robot that was to do whatever anyone else told me regardless of my personal feelings.

My religion was used against me as well to deter me from accepting my body. I was told that m*********** and watching p*** would surely secure my spot in Hell and premarital s** would never open the gates of Heaven for me. This ideology has stuck with me to this day. When I watch p*** and m********* I can only manage to touch and rub myself with clothes on, so I suppose I am still ashamed of my body. Because I end up running to burn my skin with hot water and soap to get the “ickyness” off of me.

My boyfriends have been so impressed that I can be wild because I agree to please them in B***, my willingness to agree to have s** with them in public (if no one is around-though theres the possibility of being caught.) But I only do it, to make them happy and to give myself a temporary thrill. Often when I lay in bed by a lover after intimacy and he falls asleep, I can’t help but to curl up on the opposite side of the bed feeling disgusting and like garbage because I just had s** even though I was not married. But i do it because for a moment my body is actually approved and wanted by someone else. Someone shows me that my body is worthy of affection and love (eve in in the physical sense).

I suppose it comes from not being loved as a child, no one saying they loved me or getting hugs or shouts of appraisal. It was always just being yelled at and harassed if I did anything remotely out of line of my role as a young naive human female.

Now I’ve grown up and started a family. But even still the idea of thinking about s**, having s**, watching s**, still makes me want to turn on the scalding hot water and cleanse the filth of it all off my skin.