This post is going straight from here into an email to Rob, my therapist. We quit the me emailing him everything because I would email him stuff and then we would never talk about it. So, I quit emailing him "major" stuff and then it was decided I could email him stuff as long as we talk about it. I am trying NOT to do that...but then I end up zoning and becoming silent and that is getting me nowhere...so he said as long as we talk about this stuff then I could.

I know this gets read...but somehow it seems a little bit more impersonal than emailing him directly to HIM. I am just feeling very ashamed, very vulnerable and veru shaky about all this and I am trying to keep some distance to protect me.

The question of the day is: why is it my fault that the abuse happened? It's taken me a week to really get those words out to him...but I did it today. Rob said that he can't come up with any scenario that would make it my fault...no matter what I may have done. I pay him...Rob has to be on my side.

I guess I need to go back nine years before the molestation. I guess I can call it that as the creep is now a registered sex offender. My dad died when I was three. I have some honest to goodness memories of my dad. The ones I have are all really good ones which is neat. My dad and I in a raft at Donner Lake, at Santa Cruz, cleaning my hand off with my mom after I smashed it in the door, visiting him in the hospital before they sent him home to die...and a not so good one of the day he died.

From what I understand, my mom became pretty much a recluse and started to drag me down with her. Once she adjusted, tried to kill herself and I started school...she started dating. Okay, that was within a two year period...but I digress.

Without a doubt I can say I have missed having a dad. Forget that my mom says they wouldn't have stayed married (hell...they HAD to get married in the first place) and he would have turned me into a stereotypical Asian kid...I missed having that entity in my life. I have plenty of Uncles on my dad's side...but mom was never one for letting me spend a lot of time with them. I have my grandpa (my mom's step-dad Danny whom I absolutely adore), but growing up I only saw him a couple times a month and he's quiet. I think I felt the first time in elementary school when I wanted to do Indian Princesses. Someone in my class let me go with her and her dad...but it didn't last too long...too awkward. Then there were plays, skating, prom, etc. In college there was homecoming. I knew I wouldn't get on the court (although I guess I didn't miss by many votes), but if I did...I didn't have a dad to fly down to escort me at the Presentation of the court.

So, then there was my mom's assortment of boyfriend's over the years. Let's see...one I remember became Stalker Guy when my mom broke up with him. That was a fun one. Then there was this Hispanic guy whose real name I have clue because my mother couldn't pronounce it and came up with her own version. There was the Wilbert Harrison...he wrote "Kansas City" and originally recorded it...though it has been recorded several times since then. There was Jim..the cool guy from Michigan I liked because he actually realized I existed and would play games with me. He was married. That became interesting when I was old enough to put stuff together. Then there was the guy she almost left me to go to Germany with...had her passport ready and everything. Her comment on that is, "Well, I didn't go did I?"

Toward the end of 7th grade, Del was introduced into my life. An event I would love to be able to change. He was my Uncle Mike's best friend growing up in WA. He and his wife and child lived not too far from us and on a whim we stopped by one night. They reconnected, Renee (his daughter) and I got along great and my Uncle Mike was going to be visting in August.

That brings me to Frank. I loved him. He was a fantastic guy. My mother dated him twice. I mean, they went out more than that...but twice in my childhood. The first time I was in 2nd grade and who knows what happened? The second time was either right before or right after I finished 7th grade when all this happened. On a lark one night, mom decided we should see if he was home. He was. Mom and Frank must have stayed up talking until 2 AM. They dated regularly after that. Sometimes it was just the two of them and sometimes it was the three of us.

They began to talk about getting married and I was actually thrilled. here was someone who actually liked ME and wanted to include me in stuff. So, my grandmother and I go off on our annual trip to Disneyland and when I talked to my mom I told her about the toy car I got Frank from Disneyland. She then tells me she is no longer seeing him and is seeing someone else. That went over like a lead balloon.

So, I come home and am introduced to Jim. I don't like him, my grandparent's aren't fond of him either. However, my mom likes him, likes his friends and he gets along great with Del and his wife. Super. Jim becomes a pretty permanent fixture. For the first time she actually pretty much moves Jim into our house (ewwww.....) and we do "normal" stuff like eat dinner as a "family." I hated being left alone with him...but he never touched me...he pretty much ignored me.

Okay, so now I am getting to the why what happened was all my fault stuff. We spent a lot of time with Del's family that summer. Swimming at his house, BBQs, Going to Great America, etc. Del paid extra attention to me and frankly...I ate it up. Renee didn't mind sharing her dad with me and I'll say it...I LIKED the attention. Someone to help me dive a little better, who liked to watch me swim and try new stuff, who would let me curl up to him on he couch, etc. What I see now is that allowed him to think he could do what he did. No one ever told me what I was doing was wrong and so I let that stuff continue.

My family thought it was so cute because I was fatherless...no one told me someone at 12 should not be doing that stuff...not liking the attention though I will stop short of saying it was something I was purposely seeking it because I don't think so. But, I allowed it...and by allowing it I allowed the other stuff. I feel so ashamed, so disgusting so wrong, so damaged, so dirty and so unworthy of taking every next breath...

Even now, when I see the relationships most of the youth group has with their dads I feel a twinge (okay, more than a twinge) of sadness and jealousy. I see Tricia curl upon her dad's lap when he comes to pick her up, John not ashamed to give his dad a hug in front of everyone...they don't know why I tell them they are lucky...but I keep reminding them to hold on to those moments when they want to strangle their dads!

Part of me goes on these weird tangents that I totally deserved what happened because after all...not like I was created from LOVE...lust probably...but love? Word on the street was my dad was having an affair and that my parents used to have pretty violent fights (i.e. my mom would throw stuff at him...stuff that continued for years...except it became the walls of our house instead of my dad). That I was born so wrong and so damaged and what happened with Del confirmed it.

I try and look at it other ways...but I can't see it. I loved the attention, I volunteered to go outside with him that night and none of this would have happened if I hadn't done those things.