I feel ashamed of what happened to me.
This shame permeates every facet of my life. My eyes are unable to even meet anothers when I talk about it, the feeling is so intense.
I feel ashamed because my own father didn’t want me. He rejected my mothers pregnancy, never ever seeing me in real life. Unwilling to claim his own first born, I was left to the care of my mother when I was born in 1958.
Ashamed that I knew so much about sex during my childhood, of thinking badly of others, of wanting to cry and not being able to cry.
I felt ashamed that I couldn’t protect myself. I didn’t want anything like what happened to me to happen to my younger siblings, so I would submit. Sometimes I offered myself to him in a pretended willingness because he would tell me that if I didn’t act like I liked what he did, then he would go get one of them. Even though I tried to protect them I felt guilty.
Ashamed of being poor, being stupid, being young, being a girl, of not knowing how to protect or help myself. Ashamed of how I feel, and think, and am. And even now, feeling ashamed of not even being able to “get over it” all these years later.