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I’m not broken but worse. I’m dead.

Hi. I am a woman (those words are hard to type and to see). I am approaching middle age and have never, ever desired or enjoyed sex. I feel hopeless and sometimes I wish I could die.
Many years ago, when I was 7, a boy who lived in my neighborhood raped me and also made me do sick, humiliating things. This mostly occurred in a bathroom in the basement of his parent’s house. This went on until I was 8, when he and his family left the neighborhood. I tried to tell my mom several times but I lacked the vocabulary and she missed what I was trying to tell her. Eventually, I remember thinking that if I just buried the horror deep into my mind, it would eventually disappear. It was also around this age that kids at school started taunting me, telling me my body was disgusting, that I smelled like shit and I was ugly. I left that school for another where I was re-traumatized in a similar way. By age 14, I’d already been driven out of 3 schools. To say this was all incredibly traumatic would be a vast, vast understatement.
I went through middle school, high school and college watching all my peers having fun while discovering their sexual selves and exploring this realm of life that was no new and so wonderful. I saw them date, heard stories about awesomely mind-blowing sex, orgasms that made their worlds shake and, for some reason this was the most painful – birth control pills so they could have all the sex they wanted without worrying about babies. Babies were for later, when they would still be enjoying sex with the men they loved. I would sit, sadly and silently, hearing in astonishment about how great sex was.
Around the age of 20, I decided that I was going to conquer this thing. I began seeking therapy for all this at the age of about 21. I began discussing it to people before that, when I was around 18.
I was young and had my whole life in front of me. I was determined to fall in love one day and join the human race in this whole sex thing. It would come to me and because I’d have waited so long and suffered so much loneliness, this unchartered territory of love would be even better for me than for others who had already had their first loves as teenagers.
I did not do this passively. I did not wait for some man to come and alleviate every ounce of my pain. I took a proactive approach and decided to lay my own groundwork with individual and group therapy so when my dream guy arrived, I wouldn’t be a rescue mission for him. Upon taking this approach, I looked to the future and was ecstatic for what was in store for me. This was going to happen No Matter What.
Fast forward about 17 years. I feel dead inside. I’ve been to so much therapy, read so many books, taken supplements, tried physical therapeutic approaches, tried meditation, visits to medical clinics – and I am dead. Every sexual encounter I’ve had in my adult life has been hideous and disgusting to me. I avoid sex. I don’t want it in my life. At this point I’m so accustomed to this feeling of deadness that I’ve given up trying to do anything about it and I’m afraid I’ll grow old alone. I don’t regret seeking the help I did, but after all of this – time, energy, money and so many tears – I have given up hope for ever being able to enjoy sexual intimacy. I feel I will carry that boy’s abuse with me to the grave. Hell, I’m already there in many ways.
This has been my experience and I don’t want to make anyone here feel discouraged, but for 2 decades nothing that I’ve tried has yielded results. For many years I thought my sexual self was broken, but now I realized she’s been dead all this time and cannot and will not return. All my hope has been drained and all I feel is empty and dead.

1 comment

  • Alexis


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