Ok, this is my story. I'm really scared as I type this because I've never told it all before. I have a tendency to intellectualize things, roll them over and over in my head, like a rock in a tumbler, until all the feelings have worn off.
I was in foster care when the church got its claws into me. I was six and my mother had put me in care the very day she found out that her boyfriend was having sex with me (on me, more correctly). He had been molesting me from the time I was three and all the things he warned me would happen if I told did happen.
My mother gave me away. She cried a lot and I thought she'd stopped loving me. I was five.
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