A letter of gratitude to the Good men.

In spite of the bad that exists within this world ,God allowed me to meet a few good guys throughout my life and am grateful towards each of them.

         To the few men, that actually made a positive impact in my life, at some point, I want to say, thank you.  Due to all I witnessed and had done to me between my childhood and teenage years, I grew to mistrust most, if not all men.

         Yet, in the midst of my demise, and hatred that I gained, a few were able to come within my walls, and show me a different perspective, that would spark a tiny flame of hope within my heart and mind.  I will not name them, but will talk briefly of each one.  

           My dear brother, though not perfect, was my first real hero.  I looked up to him, most of the time, and always thought that no one could ever be as he was.  I followed him everywhere, and would defend him as well.  As he grew, it got to the point, in which he would be bullied for not sticking up for himself and being saved by his baby sister.  So eventually he drew a line and made it clear, that I was to leave him be, even if someone was bullying him.  Today, we have drifted apart, as he pretty much pushed me away, once I realized the truth about our dad, and all that, he chose to deny every other thing, And this breaks my heart, yet deep within, I will never forget the times he stood up against our father, to try and save me from his relentless beatings.

            Around the age of ten or twelve, at the church we were going to, there was this young man. He was slightly older than me and once I was allowed to attend youth group, I would see him more often.  I am not sure what he saw in me, but in the end, he drew close to me.  And a friendship was established. Some were not happy with what they saw, and I believe he even got a warning at some point. He never disrespected me, in any way, but offered his shoulder and ear, and I would cry my heart out to him.  It got to the point that we would sit next to each other, and he would take my hand in his.  I felt comforted by his presence, and safe.  

              Sure I might have wished that he could have been my blue prince, but in the end, I knew that this would never be.  He was short for an american guy, but taller than me of course. He had black, thick hair and his skin was white.  His eyes were dark brown, and his face was one full of love and comfort.  We never kissed in the mouth, but he would be the first to kiss my cheek.  And each time, he would do so, very gently.  

               I loved holding hands with him and did not think much of it.  The first time, I ever went out on my own, was with him. He and a friend, from church called my parents after service one night asking that I be allowed to go to have dinner, and my mom said yes.  We went to an Olive Garden, and the dinner finished around 10:35pm.  Mind you it was a Friday night.  He took me home and by the time we pulled up, I saw my parents waiting at the door. My heart lurched, and he offered to walk me to the door, I should have said, yes, but I said no.  He kissed me in the cheek and well, I got a good beating for having shown up late, with an older guy.

              In the end, he has remained within my heart and I tend to go back and remember the good times I shared with him.  He should be married by now, and maybe even a grandfather, not sure.  If I ever see him again, I would hug him and let him know how thankful I was for the time we got to spend together.

                Another young man, that impacted my life, I met elsewhere, at another church. I was a tad older.  And he was the same age as me, and in the end became a mentor and youth leader. He was not too attractive nor plain, but for some reason, all the girls at church, would always surround him, and beg for his attention. I had not really noticed him at first, cause I would just stand on my own, and eventually, whenever I would see him with all these girls, I would smirk, and perhaps, say negative things about him in my mind.  Eventually, it got to the point where he became my direct leader. And he tried getting me more involved with the others. So what happened was that I ended hanging out with him and his little group of guys.  And sure, most gals were jealous or tried making me feel weird, but I did not care.  He would give me rides home at times, and or we would go to christian concerts together.  We hung out a lot at church, and would even sit next to each other.

             We grew close, but than something happened and we drew apart.  I will never really understand that part but still do appreciate him, for being genuine and sincere.  After him, I simply shut myself off, and stopped trying to befriend anyone else, and well got pregnant and so forth.

 Not up until 2008-2010, that I made other acquaintances of other young men that were either married and or dating someone else, but were part of a bible study group I went to for a year or two.

             Within this group of young men, one noticed that I would always sit in a space between two couches to not look at anyone nor have anyone take the time to look at me, and he talked with the others, and helped draw me out of my cave.  It took them three months to persuade me, and after that, another of the guys, noticed that I would only hug the girls but not the guys, and asked me why.  I innocently told them that I had been taught by my parents to never hug a guy, more so, if he was married and or dating someone else.  Well, they were all shocked and he than made it a challenge that I would not be allowed to leave the house, until I had hugged every one of the guys present.  

                 I must confess that I was so confused and shocked and sorely afraid. I even begged their girlfriends and wives to stop this madness. But they kept on reassuring me that it was ok, as they knew that I was not after their men, and in order to make the friendship official, a hug would mean a lot to the guys.  This might seem comical or stupid to some of you, but yes, indeed, to me, this was pure torture.

                  I was so afraid, of touching these guys, and most were very attractive, and even then, I was so afraid of getting too close.  So they would form a line, and I would have to go up to each one, and hug them. And at first I would barely put one arm around their waist and make sure to not put my face on their chest.  Now, some guys would grab me and push me against their chest, and I could not restrain myself against such strength.  The first three times, they had me do this, I cried my heart out. I felt tainted and dirty and was afraid my dad would find out.  And they prayed over me, and told me that it was ok.  After 6 months of this, I was able to break free, of this chain, that had kept me bonded to an emptiness within my soul.

                  After this, one day, the same guy that had started the hugging therapy, told me one day, how beautiful I looked, and again, I was appalled by such praise, and told him that he should not say that to me, because I was uglier than the ugly duckling.   And yes at that time, I hated myself a lot. So he told his wife, that he would tell me how beautiful I was, not because he was in love with me but because as the friend he was, he knew that I had been blinded by much pain.  And so each time he would say that, I would cringe and feel this rage on the inside of me, and God was at this time, working in my life. So it was a daily battle. Finally the day came in which, I would hear his words and no longer cringe or rage and finally saw the essence of what true beauty was.

                  So I thank him as well, for being such a positive influence along with his wife. And the two guys that were key players in drawing me towards God even more, these two I have not met in person as of yet, but even so, we formed a friendship, beyond no other.

                  I love them both as brothers and friends and both were my mentors, and counselors and confident in many matters.  I did fall in love with one more than the other. Yet, the one I started falling for told me that it was normal as he had come into my life, at my lowest point, and that he would never stop loving me, but that we would never be more than just best friends. And each time I was angry or hurting or doubting, I would call him up and he would never complain about the time of day, and hear me out.  With the other, we would talk early in the morning as he was in Finland.  Yet both would make the time, to hear me out and answer my many questions about God and faith and humanity.

                   These I owe my life in more ways than one, and so my mind set of men, has evolved a lot, in the last few years, still my sensory issue is active but have worked on being less judgmental towards most guys I meet.

                   And so these men, that for you have no name or meaning, to me, are the world to me.  If not for them, I would still have hate and rage and in the end, I believe, even during the times in which I was not sure what to believe in, God made sure I met these guys in order to open my eyes, to the truth, that not all men are going to be like my dad or all scum bags like others are within this world.

                   So to these men, I will remain forever grateful, as they brought a change deep within my heart, mind and soul, and allowed me to draw closer to God. My journey is not finished yet, and still have much to conquer, so for now, I will work on moving onward and seeing what awaits in the near future.

          

Reviews

[Amanda]

You know there are many people out there in the world who are just like you. I'm glad I read your story today. It reminded me of how I used to be growing up. In school I was always that girl who was different. I was very tomboyish, shy, depressed and egotist. Just like you I had a hard time trusting people. There are a lot of things that I can relate to in your story. One for example is I hated being touched. Well I can go on and on but I think you get the picture. Anyways I'm glad that you found people in your life that you trust.

[Maria]

I appreciate the time you took to read this. See I was raped by my dad at the age of 3 and sexually abused between ages 6-17 years of age. So I hated touching and being touched. Not until I was 28 was I finally diagnosed with PTSD and the fact that my parents did teach me that hugging was the same as saying I want to have sex, well, that traumatized me a lot and would get spanked if my parents caught me hugging any guy at all. So once this group of guys worked on getting me to hug them, that broke a dam, within my life, and I finally understood the difference between a touch in which one looks for more and a hug in itself can mean more than one thing too. Still am battling a few things currently but have overcome so much, with Gods help. By no means am I perfect, I still fall from time to time but get on back up and keep on pushing forward.

[Amanda]

I recommend that you read a book called miss America by day by Marilyn Van . I read it and I really liked it. It's amazing how some people can tell what happened to them. I think women like you are the bravest.