UNCLEANED HANDS

I had UNCLEAN HANDS ever since I was a small child but mine wasn't from playing in the dirt or making mud pies. It was because others around me had UNCLEAN HANDS too.

My toddler years were stolen from me. At 2 or 3 years of age I remember card parties thrown often in my family. One in particular was the card game my grandmother allowed one of her sisters to have in her apartment. There was always the smell of cigarettes or cigar smoke from uncles and aunts who came over. They were always talking loud, and cursing with the aroma of strong whiskey coming from the small glasses the men drank that appeared to look like tea. Soon after the party was over I remember one of my male cousins who came with one of the adults was much taller than me, almost as tall as the adults he liked me. My memory must have been blocked because I don't know who that person was, or his face. I remember the adults telling my male cousin to go put the chairs across the hall where one of my grandmother's sisters lived in Chicago. I think my cousin was an older kid because they didn't let him stay at home.

My cousin asked me to come with him to put up the chairs. I went with him gladly because I was trusting as most children are, especially with someone they are familiar with. He took the chairs next door and I followed him. When we went in the front door I saw the light from the kitchen overpowering the darkness of the living room. My cousin sat the chairs down as he was told but all of a sudden he turned the kitchen light off and told me not to be afraid as he took me by my tiny hand, letting me know I was safe. My cousin sat on the couch in the now dark apartment with only the glimmer of the moonlight and street lights piercing through the windows. He sat me on his lap with what appeared to be a long hard object underneath my butt. I didn't know what it was but he kept rocking me back and forth in a very slow motion then fast while tickling me at the same time. My cousin seemed to be having fun and so did. When all of a sudden he put his hand down my panties and started playing with a part of my anatomy that I was not familiar with. I thought that was what I was supposed to do but I didn't know anything, I mean how could I? Ever since then, I became a toddler trying to reach the feeling that my cousin had given me without knowing any better. I began to experiment with Teddy bears, my fingers, and at every chance I got. I was spanked when my mother or grandmother caught me but no one ever told me why I was being beaten or tried to get me the help as to why a child practically a baby had unacceptable sexual behaviours. Throughout my entire life no matter where I went, rather it was down south or Chicago I was subjected to older boys or grown men who took advantage of me as a child. Soon after I became obsessed with an addiction that others call a sexual masturbating deviant. My once favorite uncles not only knew my dirty secret but even asked to be apart of it and swore me to secrecy.

It was embarrassing when other family members found out or heard the moaning and groaning in the bathroom. I was talked about and put down for something others get paid for in pornography movies. Only after I started going to church and seeing a psychiatrist I started to heal over the years from what was taken from me; my innocence. Sometimes people aren't born that way, they are made like Dr. Frankenstein having his way with the monsters he created. I used to cry myself to sleep because I didn't know why, Why me?

I have always been told not to say what happened to me. All of the secrecy caused me pain, which led me to suicide, drugs, alcohol abuse, and sexual promiscuity.

My hands that I use now, are to raise to God, to praise Him and thank Him. People in the church who could identify what my problem was, helped me instead of ridiculing me along with years of psychiatrists, therapy and the many creative things that I have accomplished over the years. My once UNCLEAN HANDS are no more.