It is like a curse that has weighed heavily on my soul these many years. It is that bight of shame that has shadowed my existence; eating away at me day by day.
It still remember that day as if it was happening in the now. I was around 14 years old at the time. Like all boys, we would hang around, running and playing in the streets.
One day, I went along with others over to a friend’s house. We went down in the basement. I had the curiosities that come along with puberty during that time. In that basement we found a hidden stack of magazines with pictures – pictures of naked women.
Our bodies lost control, our hearts raced as we flipped through the pages. We looked at each other, but at first we said nothing as we knew what each of us of thinking. Moments later, we heard the voice of our friend’s mother making the announcement for ice cream. So, we all had our ice cream, and all was forgotten.
But, all was not forgotten. Later that day, as I went to bed, the memory of those naked women entered my mind. My body lost control, and that was when it happened. Before I could put up any defense, I realized that I had touched myself in an inappropriate manner.
After I realized what had happened, I began to do the wrong thing, and that was to cover up what took place in that moment. I kept what had happened to me a secret in fear of being shamed. Never a word was spoken all these years.
Now, others are finally coming forward and speaking up about their experiences. They have finally decided to stop being victims and start being owners of their lives. Like them, I can finally move forward with my life. Revealing what happened to me has released my soul from that pit of shame.