Posted: August 2, 2013 in America, Bipolar, Children, Life, Love, Men, Mexico, Race, Religion, sex, Society, women
Tags: , , , ,

Even before I address my keyboard, I can feel some anxiety rising up. It means to usurp my resolve. It won’t.

I rarely post anything about my long-term molestation. I won’t bother with the acts or psychological scars.

It happens so much in society that everyone has become desensitized. And it isn’t relevant to my true message.

After several year of incarceration in dirty old man jail, I was shipped off to my grandparents in Torreon, Mexico.

I was 14 years-old and yearning for anything that wasn’t jaded, tainted or even questioned. My grandmother made this difficult.

My grandfather and a male cousin made my quest realistic. Both were (and are) good moral men. But there was a problem.

I wanted, needed and practically demanded constant attention. I spent hours alone with my grandfather and cousin talking about anything.

I was happy, safe and absorbing all the love I was receiving. Thirty years later, it moves me so much. Those hugs saved the good me.

And then there was my grandmother and her morality scale. Chastising me (not the men) for spending too much alone time with them.

She even suggested that I romantically coveted my cousin! I was appalled beyond belief! And I really blasted her with both barrels.

My grandfather and cousin would never have engaged in immoral acts with anyone, much less me. I moved to my aunt’s home soon thereafter.

My relationship with men (sexual or not) was altered forever by my trauma and subsequent partial restoration. At least I learned something.

My grandmother’s first love was her father on a beautiful horse and donning a cape. She told me this many times and I used it against her.

I also see that growing up without a father (he died a young man) made my grandmother reject the idea of a healthy moral familial love.

So what happens when pure familial love is labeled dirty? Perverted, unhealthy, compulsive and manic love outside of the family steps up.

My mother, years later, told me that my grandfather limited his affection to her when she was about 11 years-old. Must have been the cut-off.

My entire life, I have heard an undying question that pisses me off with every fiber of my being. Why are there so many teen pregnancies?

The answer is simple. If daughter doesn’t get daddy’s time and affection there’s an army of horny creeps vying for the job.

  1. bpshielsy says:

    I agree. Appalling


    • coconutspeak says:

      Does that mean you hate the post?


      • bpshielsy says:

        Haha, now now, are you fishing for a more detailed compliment? Very well… It was appalling how you were treated. It shows real strength of character, that you’ve become the person you are x


        • coconutspeak says:

          Sorry my Bipolar Brit Buddy . I’ve been manic for a few days and panic is my favorite corruption! I really thought you hated it. Thanks for the compliment. I appreciate it.


          • bpshielsy says:

            No need to apologise.

            To be honest, I don’t think I’ve come across any posts I’ve hated in this community. Believe me, if there was one i’d hate, it would t be on coconut speak 🙂

            Take care & sorry to hear your mania is spiking


  2. bpshielsy says:



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