019.

TW/CW: touch (both consensual and non-consensual); sexual assualt; explicit sexual language. 

"May’s Full Moon reminds you that your job is to give yourself the childhood you never had." 

My horoscope for my Moon and Rising sign. 
Give yourself the childhood you never had. I may have written about this in previous entries. My therapist told me this was I disclosed to her. To give to my 3-4 year old self what I needed in those moments. 

This entry, I'm going to look at it in the context of physical touch. 

There was a small window of my childhood that I recall enjoying touch. I'd look for my parents arms to climb up in. I'd snuggle up to my Grammie, placing my head on her lap as she scratched my back. I'd let my Sicilian great-grandmothet pinch my cheeks til they turned red, knowing it was her sign of saying 't'amu'. 

All memories of touch I liked. Touch I embraced.Touch I welcomed and adored. 

Then one day, I didn't like it any more. I felt pricks all the way down my spine when I had to hug anyone, even my family. My throat dried if I had to shake hands with someone. And if anyone got to close I felt a flutter in my gut, and not the good kind. 

As I got older, I discovered a new kind of touch. And enjoyed it for some time. Until I was 23 and felt what this new kind of touch felt like when it was a bad touch. And there they came again. The pricks, dryness, the flutters. In fact the first time I gave a blowjob after it happened, I cried and I panicked. 

I'm teetering between enjoying some touch and wanting to numb my skin at times. But it isn't easy. I see the hurt on my mother's face as I tense up when she hugs me. My sister finds it weird and judges me when I move on the couch if someone gets too close. My dad gives me a look whenever I freak out if some touches me without warning. 

But I want to like, welcome, and enjoy touch. To be able to fall into someone's arms. To give myself the childhood I never had. To give my 3-4 year old self what I needed then: good, kind, welcomed touch. The kind my parents gave to me but once it was too late. 

I'm trying. I have this weird thing I do at night to help me fall asleep (along with a toke and a guided meditation). I hold my own hand, fingers laced together. It comforts me. When I was younger, I used to pretend it was the hand of my latest crush (school mate or celebrity). Now as an adult, I know it's my hand. 

So, that's what I give myself. I give my childhood self my own hand. A comforting and protective hand. Because my hands will not betray, hurt, or violate.

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