Embarrasment and Confusion: Part 2

A while ago I wrote a blog post that revealed a rather humiliating moment in my young life. Well, now I have another, and in is one, the humiliation isn’t even the worst part.

When I was probably six or seven years old, a male family member who was about three years older than me wanted to kiss me. (I shall call him Dave.) No big deal right? Lots of kids had that one time in their lives when they were curious about kissing, and decided a family member like a cousin or a sibling who’s around the same age would be fine to explore that with. Well, I didn’t feel that way. I was always baffled when I heard other girls on the playground asking “Who was the first boy who ever kissed you, and brothers and cousins don’t count!” Because this experience counted in my books. I tried coming up with excuses not to kiss him, one of which being that someone might see us. So he invited me into a closet for privacy, and in that moment I panicked. I made the excuse that I couldn’t kiss him because I couldn’t see him in the dark closet, and then I left. I retreated to the opposite end of the house and avoided him for a while. 

Later on, when I was about eight years old, strange feelings started to surface. I still can’t remember how this occured, but I have a vague memory of laying ontop of Dave and kissing him. I remember feeling dominant and powerul. What a strange thing to occur in the heart of an eight year old girl. Later on a friend of Dave’s came to visit, so he went downstair to hang out. I remember going downstairs and staring at Dave. I had seduction in my eyes. Oh yes, you read that right, an eight year old girl was trying to be sexually seductive. Suddenly Dave’s friend glanced over at me while I was intensely staring Dave down, and realizing that he glanced my way I snapped out of it. Where power, dominance and seduction had been growing, shame suddenly took over. Deep, unbridled shame. I have never felt such shame before or since. I went upstairs and wallowed my shame, and sank into the horror of my lustful heart.

I think that what terrified me the most about this, was that I was eight. My body was not fully developed. It was not fully capavle of sexual arousal yet. The lust I felt had next to nothing to do with my body. It was purely in my heart. How devestating that was to discover.

Thankfuly many years later when my husband and I were getting pre-marrital counseling we chose a lovely Christian counselor who saw the need to touch on this subject. I remember her quoting Matthew 19:14, from the King James version I think. “Suffer not the little children.” I cried. In fact I’m tearing up right now. It took me a long time to accept that I did not have to carry that shame. This lovely counselor helped me to see that through Jesus own words. 

Anywho, that is all I shall write for now. God bless you and keep you. 


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