Porn.

November 28, 2009

My father always tried his best to provide for my mother and myself. Coming from a family plagued with poverty and indifference, he had few options of gaining a better life. One of which was the military.

I can’t tell you the finer details of living in a military family since, in this situation, we weren’t the stereotype. I moved not even a hand full of times due to my father’s military commitment. When I was about 5 years old, I vaguely remember my parents coming to me to tell me that we were moving to another state. I don’t think I understood what was going on at the time but years later I found out that he was dishonorably discharged from the military.

The lead pastor at the church we attended at the time had somehow convinced my mother that it would be a good career move for my father if we moved to where they were setting up a new congregation. I have other speculations as to why this pastor wanted us to move “with the church”.

While we may not have been in military housing for long, I do have very distinct memories of the short time we spent there. And as much as I would like to deny this topic as a prevalent theme throughout my life, I can’t help but acknowledge the tidbits that I can visualize so vividly.

We were living in an apartment complex where the majority of the kids that I knew or lived nearby were of a different ethnicity then I was (the one benefit of living in an urban area, I didn’t know what color prejudice was).

This particular complex was quite large for a 5 year old. I had a few friends from certain areas that I was allowed to hang out with and there were a few kids that I saw once or twice but for the most part I stayed in the grassy area where my parents could see me.

Now, I’m not quite sure how I ended up in the narrow entry way on the second floor where there was no way out but to make a complete circle but I do remember my first experience with porn.

I was a very trusting child, very polite – shy even. I always wanted to please people, even people I didn’t know.

I can’t recall all the details of what happened but I do remember two Mexican boys, around my age, pulling me towards their front door but not allowing me to come in. They ran inside with such fierce excitement that I wasn’t sure if I should stay or not. I decided to wait and not 5 seconds later I could hear them running down their hall to the front door. I was a little afraid because they didn’t speak English too well and I didn’t know Spanish. In their hands they held torn pages from a magazine with a naked woman on it. It was a spread from Playboy. I wasn’t really sure why they had brought that out. Did they want me to do this? To get naked? I was too confused and unsure to try to ask them why they brought it out. Luckily, an older man came stumbling out the front door and yelled at the boys right before he threw them inside the house.

I never understood why they brought it out for me to see. All I can remember is thinking about whether that was what I was supposed to look like.

 

 

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