she nervously looked down at them, no longer looking at me. “She didn’t touch me or make me do anything. It was quite the opposite. I wasn’t allowed to touch myself in any way. She wouldn’t allow me to wipe after using the toilet, or clean myself in the bathtub. So when I took baths, she would sit in there and watch me to make sure I wasn’t touching myself. That one particular night, I was really irritated down there. Looking back on it now, I probably had a yeast infection or something caused from not wiping after going pee. But I apparently scratched myself in the tub and she saw. The next thing I knew, she pulled me out by my arm. The momentum of it threw me into the wall. That’s all I remember. She told me the next morning that’s what would happen if I were ever touched. From then on out, I had spots of red in my irises. She said it was caused by touching myself. No other explanation was given. Nothing else was ever said of it again.”
I was taken aback by the words she had expressed, surprised that she had finally decided to confide in me and unsure how to continue with my questions. I didn’t want to scare her. I wanted her to continue releasing the words that she had tried to bury down deep. It was as if she had finally found the key to unlocking them, and once they were set free, there was no stopping them. She looked at me and seemed just as surprised as I was by her declaration.
She hadn’t been lying when she told me it wasn’t what I thought. However, I wasn’t wrong when I had expected to hear some horrid story of child abuse. Only it wasn’t the kind of abuse I was anticipating. In some ways, it was worse.
“Is that when you were moved to foster care?” I finally decided to continue with my questions. I hoped she would continue answering them; we finally seemed to be making headway.
She shook her head and then answered. “No. That wasn’t until I was eleven.”
“And that is why you have the fears that you do? Even after all this time?” I tried to keep my expression blank so she wouldn’t stop. I feared if I showed her how I was feeling, I would scare her away. But I also felt fear. It was just a different color than hers. I had discovered so many shades of fear during my years as a surrogate, but this was the first time I was actually experiencing any of them myself.
“It’s not something that you can easily get over. Don’t get me wrong, I wipe and clean myself now, but it still makes me uncomfortable.”
“How were you able to have sex both times?”
“I paid them.”
Air was stuck in my lungs as I tried to speak. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “How?” I couldn’t believe she was divulging her secrets. On one hand, I was ecstatic; on the other, I was bathed in panic.
She rolled her eyes, dismissing either my question or my disbelief in her confession. “Easy. I found ads on Craigslist and called them.”
“So you paid someone to take your virginity? Do you know how dangerous that is?” I realized I was sounding more like a father than a confidant, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from continuing. “There are vicious people out there that use that as a way to victimize people like you. Why would you do that?”
Tears slipped down her cheeks as she turned away from me. “It’s easy when I don’t know anyone. I don’t have friends, Cade. I don’t socialize with people. I don’t drink, so it wasn’t as if I could’ve picked a guy up at a bar. I don’t go out to meet anyone. And I felt desperate to make these feelings go away.”
She curled into herself, hugging her waist with her arms and cried. I watched as her small shoulders shook with her silent cries. Ivy was going to be harder to treat than I had initially planned. And that was because I related to her more than I wanted to admit.
My arm came up around her shoulder unexpectedly. Even more unexpectedly, she leaned into me. I suddenly felt beads of sweat form on my back beneath my
I was taken aback by the words she had expressed, surprised that she had finally decided to confide in me and unsure how to continue with my questions. I didn’t want to scare her. I wanted her to continue releasing the words that she had tried to bury down deep. It was as if she had finally found the key to unlocking them, and once they were set free, there was no stopping them. She looked at me and seemed just as surprised as I was by her declaration.
She hadn’t been lying when she told me it wasn’t what I thought. However, I wasn’t wrong when I had expected to hear some horrid story of child abuse. Only it wasn’t the kind of abuse I was anticipating. In some ways, it was worse.
“Is that when you were moved to foster care?” I finally decided to continue with my questions. I hoped she would continue answering them; we finally seemed to be making headway.
She shook her head and then answered. “No. That wasn’t until I was eleven.”
“And that is why you have the fears that you do? Even after all this time?” I tried to keep my expression blank so she wouldn’t stop. I feared if I showed her how I was feeling, I would scare her away. But I also felt fear. It was just a different color than hers. I had discovered so many shades of fear during my years as a surrogate, but this was the first time I was actually experiencing any of them myself.
“It’s not something that you can easily get over. Don’t get me wrong, I wipe and clean myself now, but it still makes me uncomfortable.”
“How were you able to have sex both times?”
“I paid them.”
Air was stuck in my lungs as I tried to speak. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “How?” I couldn’t believe she was divulging her secrets. On one hand, I was ecstatic; on the other, I was bathed in panic.
She rolled her eyes, dismissing either my question or my disbelief in her confession. “Easy. I found ads on Craigslist and called them.”
“So you paid someone to take your virginity? Do you know how dangerous that is?” I realized I was sounding more like a father than a confidant, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from continuing. “There are vicious people out there that use that as a way to victimize people like you. Why would you do that?”
Tears slipped down her cheeks as she turned away from me. “It’s easy when I don’t know anyone. I don’t have friends, Cade. I don’t socialize with people. I don’t drink, so it wasn’t as if I could’ve picked a guy up at a bar. I don’t go out to meet anyone. And I felt desperate to make these feelings go away.”
She curled into herself, hugging her waist with her arms and cried. I watched as her small shoulders shook with her silent cries. Ivy was going to be harder to treat than I had initially planned. And that was because I related to her more than I wanted to admit.
My arm came up around her shoulder unexpectedly. Even more unexpectedly, she leaned into me. I suddenly felt beads of sweat form on my back beneath my
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