you're eleven, maybe twelve.
you're friends with a boy with a mop of hair and intelligent eyes. you want to hold his hand, text late into the night, hang out in the park with him. you see him at church every sunday, its the highlight of your week. you have a crush. of course you do, you're twelve.
one night after church you're playing tag with him and both of your brothers. you're tired from running, end up laying on the grass next to him. your parents walk out of the church. no other adult cares. but that is the moment your mother works out in her mind that you slept with him. but you're twelve. you just wanted to hold his hand and liked just being his friend.
From then on you are treated by said mother figure as if you are a harlot. You're so confused. You don't understand where this all came from. She acts as if you are sleeping with anyone and everyone possible. you're just trying to make it through school so you can leave this hell hole. all that gets drilled into you day to day by her is the "men are evil" "you need to pull your life together" "dont have sex dont drink" you're 15, you go to school, you come home, you play online games, hang out with your internet friends, sometimes hang out with one or two friends from school. She decides you are a hard partyer and doing drugs because she stole your phone on news years eve when your friend texted you, drunk as all hell and needing someone a shoulder to cry on. you're just trying to make it through school and be there for the few friends you have. you're confused as hell.
you feel the need to hide any relationships you do have. you don't divulge details to anyone, even your closest friends. you dont feel like you can talk to anyone about relationship things, because all that is drilled into your brain is an odd displaced shame for interacting with another person intimately. you aren't doing anything wrong. but all that is in your brain is the need to hide it. you dont even tell the family you do like until weeks after a breakup. you keep the conversations about partners strictly to work accomplishments. you dont dare say to anyone when you think someone is attractive or you're interested in them. you no longer are able to write down anything sensitive, even if it is a work of fiction. because you are afraid of someone finding it and using it against you. again. just like your diaries when you were 12.
you're 22. your older sister enlightens you to the original action that led to this nasty abusive disaster of an upbringing for the last 5 years you stayed at home. the yelling and the screaming that made you leave at 16. "ask your little sister about what happens on the wedding night. she has loads of experience." you really don't. but all this. all because you flopped in the grass next to a boy after church and wanted to hold his hand.