Why I dislike XY of any age.

My mother got pregnant with me, her 4th child, in her early 40s. My mother was pregnant with my oldest sister when she married my father and got pregnant with my other sister relatively quickly. Those 2 girls got into high school, so she decided to try for her 2 wanted boys at that time.

She had my brother, 3 years later, she had me.

I have spoken at length about how she informed me often that she was cheated out of a son when she had me.

So.

My brother was the golden child, the much wanted and anticipated son, the boy that my mother worked for, prayed for, deserved. He could absolutely do no wrong in her eyes. He was her little precious prince.

This dick worship created a lot of quiet chaos that spurred this fucking weird ass dynamic wherein she kind of openly hated me for being female, forcing my father to pick up the slack, paying me extra attention and trying to love me even more. He really did try to even out the balance for me.

Maybe he didn’t really want to do all that. Maybe he resented me.

But if he did, he never showed it.

I have a lot of early memories of my brother. My mother bathed us together, for a while, I have no memories of that particular thing. But I have seen the pictures that she took.

One of the first incidents that I can remember clearly occurred when I was around 6 or 7. My brother, who was around 9 or 10, at the time, had asked me to come into his room to play with him. He closed his bedroom door and sat down on the floor, at the foot of his bed.

It seems like he had little toys, like little army men, or something like that, on the floor, and he fiddled with them while I stood in front of him.

I am unable to remember what he said exactly, but he was trying to get me to take my clothes off.

I was refusing. And it is my first memory of feeling that fucking fear that is unknowable to a little girl, she has no words for it.

How can she describe something with words that she doesn’t have?

She feels the fear, but she can’t name it. He is telling her that it’s normal, that he is her brother, he would never hurt her, he just wants to look. And then he says that he will take his clothes off, too.

So, you know, it will be fair.

Doesn’t she want to look at him?

These are the things that he says.

When she says no, he becomes aggressive. When he stands up and tries to remove her clothes, he is grabbing at her, and that is when she begins to protest loudly enough that mom hears and comes in to see what is going on.

My mother put me into my room for a bit. A little later, she comes and gets me from my room, my brother from his room, and she sits us down at the breakfast bar, right next to each other. Standing on the other side of the bar, she gives her little Christian Mommy speach, about how she understands that both of us are curious about each other’s body, but that it’s horribly sinful and displeasing to her GAWD that the 2 of us try to look at each other, that she expects better of us.

She adds that she will punish both of us if she catches us in this mutual, totally equal activity again.

My brother was a predator to me almost from the moment of my birth.

His predatory behavior continued up until I was able to move out of my father’s house at 17.

So please, don’t fucking tell me that little boys are precious little blank tablets capable of being socialized into something resembling human.

Read the news. Google will tell you about all the little boys and exactly what they are capable of enacting against little girls.

When I was a little girl, little boys harassed and bullied me.

When I was a teenage girl, teen boys sexual harassed and bullied me.

At every stage of my fucking life, the same aged boys were nasty, right along with the grown males that begin harassing girls as soon as they see the first sign of puberty.

None were quite as disgusting as the one that lived in my own house, right next to my own bedroom.

My own house was not safe.

So no. I don’t like males of any fucking age. And that is my fucking right.

My experience is not unique, and it is not uncommon. In fact, we all know that it is so common as to be unremarkable and that many, many women who grew up with male siblings had a very similar experience.

And we are all supposed to forgive and forget and continue to think that “it’s just a few males” and “not all males”.

No.

Jayne.