Capturing the magic of everyday life.

The Darkness continued Puberty

The Teen Years, the Puberty.

I was an earlier bloomer, 6th grader with a C cup and hips. Caused a bit of a stir. I was naive and didn't understand, the attention I was getting from older guys, men. My mom being young and having young friends would bring me to the supposedly family parties. Where they would all get drunk. I would drink a little, catch a buzz. One man would constantly get my attention, seek me out, have talks with me. Then he would move to making out with me. Over a course of months. I always felt safe, never thought anything was wrong. This was someone my mom knew, someone that her friends knew, how wrong I was. When I was 13 at one of the said parties, I was taken home by the man. I had been thrown in the pool dressed so my mom said I needed to dry off, he offered to take me home later. He brought me to his apartment, said he was going to give me something dry to wear.... said he wanted to help me change. I said no, he said yes, I was woefully weaker than him. I was pinned down, I was choked, I was raped. I have never, and will never tell my mom, I was ashamed then, I just want to let it stay in the past now. I had repressed it for years. Came to light when I was 21, ironically the same age of the man. I have come to understand that it explained many things in my later teens. Giving away my 'virginity' in the front seat of a car, that my bestest friend had warned me not to leave with. Knowing nothing would come of it. How I clung onto any sense of positive male attention. Why I never knew that many of my guy friends in high school liked me, wanted me. Would have given their right arms to date me.

I met my father at 15, again an ironic age, since that was my mom age when she had me. 11 years later I still don't know if it was better to know or not to know him. Except that it gave me many self-image issues. To find that my physical appearance was so like him and his family, when they wanted nothing to do with me for so long. When they still show no real interest in me. I grew to hate my redhead, my greenish hazel eyes, my pale and freckled skin. Hated when I would be called Irish. Took me years to get over that. Took me years to understand that I was and am beautiful.

These were also the years, when I had to endure hearing things such as I was a mistake. That I ruined my mom's life. That she should have gotten rid of me. Aborted me. Gave me up. The years when I would be grounded every other week for no real reason. The years my mom tried to preempt any chance of me repeating her mistakes. The years that I felt unloved, unwanted. The years when I would seriously consider killing myself. The years I sat in quiet pity of myself and would constantly talk myself out of things. When I almost gave up everything.

There was good things to come about. These were the years when I found Paganism. When I discovered my purpose. When I dived deep within and discovered my Past Life. The ultimate one. When I found out that I was Morgan (Morgaine) LeFey. When I reassessed the oddness of some of my childhood 'imaginary' friends. When I found no I wasn't pretending or playing when I could affect things by thinking. When I knew things that my mom and family said I was eavesdropping when I swore I wasn't. That I had heard them in my head.

This was a very hard entry to write. But very centering.

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