Why victims of childhood sexual abuse tilt one way or another.
Snapshot
Qualifying my slutty or prudeness in society was necessary at an early age. Labeling was a playground rite. In grade school, we knew that unfortunate last names would be the target for “teasing.” As school progressed, teasing turned into shortcutting to the punchline: Labeling. Usually regarding an inappropriate body part.
By middle school, labels had taken a firmly sexually charged tone until, by high school, the only label that mattered was, have they or haven’t they gone all the way? Promiscuous or Prude? Although our school-age words were “Churchy? or Slut?” My own unconscious label allowed me to survive the past but set the tone for my future.
Everyone has their own lens that they filter life through. This was the first one I remember using. I bought into my label to accept my reality. Others labeled me as a “TEASE.” I called myself “Broken.” Eventually, compensating with promiscuity was my escape.
What’s it like for me now, because of my label? I feel insatiable. Insatiably curious. Insatiably driven. In all areas of my life, I choose abundance over settling for as-is. I’m compelled to be more, better, have a bigger scope. But because, as a child, I had to condition myself to ignore traditional boundaries of sexual safety…
