Is anything ever going to change?

http://www.gulf-daily-news.com/NewsDetails.aspx?storyid=378559

Once again I open the GDN to read an unbelievable story about sexual abuse and the leniency the Bahrain Courts have when punishing perpetrators. A 15 year old and his uncle beat, raped, and filmed themselves while doing it because the man was engaged in a relationship with the 15 year olds mother. His words were, she was having a relationship “behind his back”. Since when do mothers need their children’s permission to have relationships? She is divorced and free, right? Ok let us make the poor excuse that this is an Arab country and so the mother needs her son’s permission to have a relationship (this is still Bahrain and not Saudi, right?), why did those two feel that a beating and rape while filming it was the correct course of action to take in order to bring this relationship to an end? The son claims it was his right to “honor beat” the man. Honor beat? Once again, what country is this? Since when did using the word “honor” become an acceptable excuse for beating and raping someone anywhere in the world but specifically Bahrain? I have lived here over 22 years and have never heard that word used as justification in court before. Is a new trend in extremism coming to Bahrain? Do residents here now have to fear that at any moment an attack will ensue based on “honor”? Not only that but your day in court will be little more than another assault against you as the judge will view your beating and rape as merely an inconvenience to you because the defendant had to restore his family honor one way or another?  In all the years I have lived in Bahrain one of the constants that has never changed are the atrociously low sentences  (or slap on the wrists if you will) that child molesters and rapists earn for doing the most despicable thing one can do to another, much less a child. Not only did these men confess to what they did in court, it is obvious that they are dangerous men who use extreme measures to deal with their issues. What excuse will the courts give them when they show up once again having done something similar to some other victim (maybe the mother next time, in defense of honor) because human beings generally show you who they are but we often ignore it and assume the best in them.  If I were someone considering coming to Bahrain for work or travel and I read the local newspapers as a way to gauge what sort of country Bahrain was, imagine my thoughts when reading that expats might not be able to drive for much longer, that car accidents due to extremely poor and aggressive driving are a daily occurrence, that if your nationality is not the “right” one you may be treated as less than either physically, financially, or humanely, that animals are often abused and considered disposable, that beaches are garbage dump sites, that elected officials in this country spend copious amounts of time doing nothing more than coming up with ways to waste both time and money,  and that, worst of all, sexual crime is not a big deal and treated lightly by the Bahrain Court system. The Bahrain government has spent a lot of money and effort in convincing the rest of the world that everything is fine here in order to get tourists and business back on board after events over the past couple of years and yet for anyone that has even the smallest interest in coming to Bahrain, all that effort is wasted with just a few minutes spent reading a local newspaper. All the money in the world and the best P.R. firm cannot undo that kind of damage.  

Lets Talk About S*E*X!!!..and why some of us just cant say NO!!!

In an ideal world everyone would wait until they are married to have s.e.x. All s.e.x would be govt approved and God sanctified and everyone who wasnt married wouldnt even think about s.e.x...much less engage in it.

Yeah....right...this isnt an ideal world by far.

When it comes to unmarried s.e.x Im torn between not wanting my kids to engage in it of course...but knowing full well that they are human, after all, and no ones's perfect. The most I can do is advise them of all the pitfalls and potential for harm...and watch them walk out the door hoping some of what I said sunk in.

I have to admit though that when it comes to s.e.x in and of itself Im not one to judge a person who has led a sexual life before marriage as ruined or promiscuous etc...s.e.x is one of our basic needs along with food and water and to deny it to ourselves when the urge hits is quite difficult as anyone who has possibly been "caught up in the moment" can attest to. Of course it would be better for us not to even approach a situation in which s/e/x could possibly happen...but thats not always something we leave the house thinking about but possibly find ourselves facing before the day is over....for whatever reason. Ive done many things in my life Im not proud of and wish I hadnt done...so Im in no position to point a finger at someone else and call them immoral...weak...whatever.

Some people do find ways to get past the moment without "failing morally" while others dont even try....and some just arent capable of making that choice...the choice to say NO!!! because of how they were raised or the things they have suffered in their lives. Victims are routinely silenced and held accountable for what happens to them...consequently if the situation arises again in which they are about to be made a victim...quite often they can no more open their mouths and say NO this time when they DO have a choice...then when they didnt...understand?

I will give you a "for instance" just so you get where Im coming from.

I was raised by my father to never question his authority. Besides the abuse he rained down on my head on a daily basis...he also had me do some very dangerous things (another post Im sure)...things no young girl (or I dare say young boy) would ever engage in on her own free will...but of which I did without questioning my own safety...merely because my father left me no choice. I literally did NOT have a choice as to whether I would do it or not....as in...

My whole family went camping one summer in the Rocky Mountains. I was about 11 at the time. My father was fishing in a fast moving river and his line got stuck. He was in the habit of using very expensive lures etc in hopes of catching a fish (he was a very bad fisherman) and when his line got stuck he was thoroughly pissed off at the thought of losing it...so he did what any father would do...ordered his 11 year old daughter into the fast moving river to retrieve his line. Not only was the water extremely cold (Summer had just started) but the rocks were slimy and slippery and the water was chest high...but I didnt even hesitate and in I plunged. To NOT go into the water never even crossed my mind because to refuse would have just resulted in father hitting me to some degree...then picking me up and throwing me in the water anyways...so where was my choice? I had none...in I went. Needless to say I was nearly swept away in the fast moving water time and again...and yet my fathers only concern was that I had "better not drop the lure" or dont even think about coming out of the water...sigh!

This is only one of many many incidents in which he endangered my life and in which I had no say whatsoever in my own safety....in fact, the ability to say NO never even occurred to me...not even in my head. I was trained from an early age to just DO...and dont think or hesitate. That "dont question authority" is pretty much how I ended up married to the abusive man I did...simply because I felt I had no ability...no awareness of my own right to say ...NO!...I dont want to marry you. A man was telling me "lets get married"...so get married we did...the end.

So I have complete sympathy for people who say "I couldnt say NO" cause Ive been there...I understand. Sometimes we can sit back and say we would have done it differently...we would have said this or acted like that or whatever...but unless you have been a victim...unless you can stand in his or her shoes and say "I know what you mean...I understand how you feel"...then you cant stand there and point a finger at him or her and say "how could you do that...why didnt you just say NO?".

Some of us just cant say NO...instinctively we KNOW its wrong..or that we can be hurt...or that others will make us feel ashamed...or nobody will ever understand or care or listen or sympathize or forgive us....we know all that...and yet we still cannot say NO...

It takes a very strong person to overcome childhood conditioning...believe me I have walked that path myself. Much of the troubles I have had in my life I have brought upon myself simply because I could not say NO...and people took advantage of that fact...and I let them. It took me 40 years to reach this point where I do have the ability to refuse...to reject...to look someone in the eye and say NO...I wont do that...and its my right to refuse to...and then walk away. Ofcourse this doesnt just pertain to s.e.x...the inability to say NO refers to anything that you dont really want to do but feel you have no choice in...even if it means a co-worker asking you to do a job thats not yours...or a neighbor asking you to watch her pet while she's gone and you feel you cant say no...or your spouse telling you to do something you dont feel comfortable doing but dont believe you can refuse. We all have the right to refuse...to decline...to shake our head in the negative...to say firmly and loudly...NO!!! but not all of us are capable of doing it for various reasons.

For those that havent yet found their voice...their strength...their right to autonomy...my sympathies are with you...and I will support you...and will never judge you or turn my back on you. People have used and abused each other since the dawn of man and we suffer physically, mentally and spiritually because of it...because of that abuse...so why do we compound that misery and suffering by throwing recriminations, accusations and judgment into the face of those that have suffered from abuse?

Why do we finger point and name call when it could very well be one of us some day...forced to be a victim in some way...having that complete and utter feeling of helplessness and complete loss of control wash over us as someone else takes our self respect and self esteem and tramples it in the dust...without so much as an apology or a look back in regret?

As a former victim....Ive been there...I understand. I sympathize and support you...just give me a chance to prove it.

Boys Will be Boys

Opened up the GDN today to this horrible and disgusting story.http://gulf-daily-news.com/Story.asp?Article=244784&Sn=BNEW&IssueID=31349 Im wondering if that defense attorney, Fatima alHawaj, would be willing to subject herself to a gang rape and come out of it with the philosophy..."it was all a bit of harmless fun"? And I wonder if she would have said that if the victim had been a fellow Bahraini and not just a low class Filipino that are usually classed as "sexually available" to the Arabs they work for and among?

I also took note of the fact that the "youths" in question were 19, 20, 21...Im curious as to why MEN of this age are always described as youths in the paper here whenever they commit such heinous crimes? When exactly are boys viewed as men...whats the magic age marker for these people? And are we supposed to feel a certain degree of "aw shucks" for them because of their "youthful" age and apparent inability to control thenselves in their quest for some "harmless fun"?

Final note...with women defending men like this...women lawyers at that...with the phrase "harmless fun" the perpetuation of the belief that "boys will be boys" will never be cast aside and the action they undertook viewed exactly for what it is...a crime against a woman that has no doubt changed her life and will never be forgotten...but I dare say...if she hadnt been able to identify those 3 "boys" they would have tossed the memory of their night of harmless fun behind them and gotten a good nights sleep in the process.

Bahrain should be ashamed of itself the way sexual crimes are handled...and if I were that Filipino I would sue the ass off of one Fatima alHawaj who reduced my rape, humiliation, and lifelong memory of abuse at the hands of some locals and by the govt itself into merely an evening of "harmless fun".

Playing the What If game

There are many events that occur in our childhoods that can change who we are...or who we were meant to be. A good kid with a promising future can suddenly be thrown down a new road just by hanging out one night with a new chum that takes him to a drug buy. Promises of "you cant get hooked the first time" are famous last words...no? Or how about that valedictorian that believes her boyfriend when he maps out their whole future and promises of "happy ever after" ring in her ear...she will go to college and he will support her and life will be wonderful...until she turns up pregnant...and boyfriend runs for the hills. Its those "little things" that trip us up...set us on a new course that was never figured into the Big Plan that is our life. Quite often its meeting a certain someone...a new face in your life that appears to be a good thing but in reality should be accompanied with sinister back ground music and red flags all over the damn place...but most of the time we dont see the danger coming...we ignore the flags...and forever after that we are destined to spend a good portion of our severely altered lives wondering ....what if?

I was just watching a movie called The Butterfly Effect in which a man has figured out a way to go back in time and change events that happened in his childhood in order to change the tragic way things eventually turned out in his and his friends lives. However, he discovers that changing one thing in order to prevent some tragedy from happening etc only sets off a new set of circumstances that allow another sort of tragedy to happen. He tries again and again with varying results...none of them good...each time he or his friends are effected by the new outcome in a psychological or physical way. Eventually his only solution to prevent any sort of tragedy to all concerned was to never meet his friends in the first place..to never be friends with them and thus no event could ever occur that would result in tragedy. So he goes back one last time...and prevents that friendship from blooming....desperate act by a desperate man that loved his friends enough to sacrifice his future friendship with them.

Problem with altering his childhood so that he never met his friends thus preventing tragedy...he also prevented himself from meeting the future love of his life. One of his friends would eventually be his girlfriend whom he would love more than anything and she and the other friend would change his life for the better in many profound ways...as well as eventually leading to tragedy. And so...because he loved her so much...he gave up the opportunity of ever meeting her...of having her in his life...of loving her ...just to protect her and prevent tragedy coming to her. Love is such a kick ass emotion!!!

Of course once the credits started rolling...so did my mind....what if?

I spent the better part of the night playing the What If game...all I can tell you is...no matter how hard you try...when tragedy is written it seems that you cant escape it....except by one way...to never meet the person that causes the tragedy to occur. Well that would be fine and dandy...not ever meeting up with that disgusting monster would have been icing on my cake...I had a life, I had plans that didnt include a future abusive controlling incestuous husband/father...

Only one problem with that scenario...if I didnt meet him...then I wouldnt have the love of 5 beautiful children in my life.

Damn!!! you just cant win this game can you?

So sort me out all ready...would ya?

I was born Nov 18, 1968 to a young abused housewife that escaped her poverty stricken family life to wed a soon to be life long alcoholic at the heartbreakingingly young age of 14. The fact that at 14 she viewed marriage as the "better" alternative life choice to remaining among her own siblings and parents says much about what poverty can lead you to do....to do whatever you can to break free from it. Thus she set her course for the life that followed...and mine as well. Long before I was even a glimmer in my mothers eye (or an egg ready to be fertilized) my path in life had seemingly all ready been started for me. It makes me wonder if I ever had any choice in the matter when you come down to it.

I wonder sometimes just how much of life is what we make of it...and how much is what it makes of us? What are the rules exactly and who decides the penalties for failing to observe them? Many of us choose to believe that a Higher Power is in control and makes all the "thou shall nots" and metes out the punishment for disobedient transgressors. I use to believe that too...but Im sort of coming to the conclusion based on evidence abundantly given that life... "just is". Two little words pretty much sums it up....for me.

Religious folk will tell you that everything "happens for a reason" whether we mere humans understand those reasons or not. That God "works in mysterious ways" and we just have to "believe and have faith" that things will work out for the better...either in this life or the next. When you come right down to it....all they are telling you is that...life..."just is"...we cant really do anything about it so leave it up to the Higher Power to sort it all out....and meanwhile we can busy ourselves with prayer in hopes that we can influence the eventual "sorting out".

When I was a child I believed in prayer...at least I believed my whispered words of desperation flew out into the night like a frantic messenger urgently seeking out its recipient posthaste. I never doubted my prayer reached its intended target...even though evidence seemed to negate that belief. Daddy never stopped his hellish ways...never just up and left...never mysteriously disappeared into the night never to return...and most certainly never considered having a full blown and fatal heartattack...even though his diet was rich in all the fatty foods doctors warn against. Despite my many many anguished whispered prayers of reprieve...or salvation...of an "ordinary life"...what ever that was...despite the fact that none of that ever came close to happening...I still believed my prayers meant something...that a Higher Power was listening and determined to get back to me...eventually....but maybe it was all rather abitrary you know...like mail...sometimes the letter just didnt find its way...even when the address was clearly printed and stamp firmly affixed...sometimes the letter doesnt ever get the chance to arrive and be opened because life "just is" and we cant do anything about it.

I know without a doubt that there are plenty of people on the planet at this very moment that wish they had my life...compared to the hell they are living...my life must seem like a dream THEY aspire for. I have my children ...a car...a job (of sorts)..fairly decent health (could lose weight...I know).....and money most of the time...not a lot...but enough to get by. Thats a hell of a lot more than most people have...but if I knew who these people were that might look at my life and envy me...that wish they had what I have and just "pray" for whatever I dont have...I would have to tell them that for sure I have stuff...I have things...I have knick knacks and doo dads...and plenty of whatchamacallits...but I dont have the one thing that I want the most...that one thing that I cry for...ache for...miss with a deep seated pining that no devoted lover ever came close to feeling for a lost love...I dont have faith...belief...that my prayers had any affect whatsoever...that the moment they left my lips they did not fly off into the night desparate to find the One in charge...so He could sort out my worries and rescue me from evil...but instead fell to the floor at my feet with leaden finality...like a balloon that held so much promise but burst...and now is useless...garbage. The longer I have lived and the more prayers that have seemingly ended up at my feet...the more I believe prayers are for nothing...just to keep the sheep quiet and content believing Someone was in charge and keeping track and all would be made fair someday. Despite my faith...my belief...that prayers were good...prayers were needed...prayers were like a form of magic...it seems that life just continuously kicks all that aside and tells me straight out again and again...prayers are for Disney movies and hospital bedsides...but ....life....LIFE JUST IS!!!

Life "just is"...if you can convince me other wise...Im all ears.

Just wanted you to know Mom...

Ive been having a war of sorts with my mother lately. Even across the span of an ocean she has the uncanny ability to make me want to pull some hair out... merely by sending me a text message of all things. What is it about Mothers that make us wish we didnt have one from time to time...I mean I love my mother more than anything...would never want anything to happen to her even during my more darker moments when she is being particularly difficult...but I have to admit she can make the saint in me definitely turn to a sinner at the worst of times when she decides she is most definitely right...and by comparison I must be wrong...the sooner I accept that fact the sooner the emotional headlock she has me in will be loosened. All I can say is I must be a glutton for punishment and crave a daily dose of Mothers headlock...cause I certainly havent learned by now that just shutting up and agreeing with her would speed things up considerably.

At any rate....I was thinking about her and what she told me the other day...that mothers know alot more about their kids then the kids would like to believe. In other words...our secrets are not always as secret as we would like to believe. Now in some respects I would have to agree with her statement as in my youth she knew things about me that could only be known if she was a mind reader(something I suspect she revels in and is a tad too smug about). There were certain times in my life where I tried in vain to not think of anything at all just to thwart her in her attempts to probe and discover my most precious inner thoughts. I didnt have that many secrets growing up...I was a fairly boring child...but the few I had I wanted to keep.

So I was sitting here thinking of some of the things my mother most definitely does not know about me even though she believes she knows everything there is to know. There is always the chance she would see this list and then my secrets would be blown...be that as it may...I'll go ahead with it anyhow....nothing ventured nothing gained.

10 things my mother doesnt know about me

1. Mom...I know you think Billy is the one that set the hayfield on fire because he was a trouble making kid and did just about everything else....but it was me. Not only did I set it on fire...but I nearly got burned up in it. To my shame I stayed quiet while he got the beating of his life...but then again...he tortured me later over it so I feel I paid for it. Im sorry.

2. Mom...I contrived to stay after school that one day that I "missed" the bus because I wanted to spend time with Mr Dayton...the teacher I had a crush on. Dont worry...it wasnt like that...he was the father I wish I had...and I just wanted to be around him and wish that he was my dad. He was a good mentor...and never ever did anything inappropriate...all though I suspect you think he did. I know that Dad beat you over it...thinking I was out with a boy or something and blamed you for being a terrible mother...even knowing you were beat over it didnt take away the good memories I got and still have over that time I spent with him. Im sorry.

3. Mom...I nearly shot Dad with a shotgun one day while we were out hunting. I figured everyone would assume it was an accident.. I was only 14...who would blame me. My finger was on the trigger and Im sure I would have pulled it if my sister hadnt gotten in the way(unknowingly)...the reason is explained in number 10. I have always regretted that I didnt do it...even now...25 years later. Given another chance Im believe I would have. Im not sorry.

4. Mom...when I was 6 years old and playing in the park with my brother...an older man touched me in a sexual manner. I didnt tell you because I thought I would get a spanking...and that you wouldnt let me play in the park again. I wish I had told you because he went on to molest other kids...I could have stopped him. Im sorry.

5. Mom...I stole some things when I was young. Im not proud of it. You always praised me to other people as being the "good girl" when in fact...I wasnt always that good. Im sorry.

6. Mom...I knew you were having an affair with Bill...I pretended I didnt know because I loved you and didnt want to ruin this small piece of joy in your life. I dont think any less of you...your choices are yours...not mine. Im not sorry.

7. Mom...I am angry at you so much for your inability to leave my father and give us a life without abuse and chaos. I felt you were weak and uncaring of our daily tortured existence and were just selfish in your own misery. I never tell you that because I know you did the best you could....and you were a victim too. Im sorry.

8. Mom...I didnt feel sorry or remorse when Gramma died...even though she was your mother. You know that she never treated me well and never had a kind word or thought for me...even as a small child. I do not recall her ever saying my name even once in my whole life. She was never my Grandmother...I was sad for you that you lost your mother...but from my side...I felt nothing. Im sorry.

9. Mom...I blame alot of the emotional problems in my life on how I was raised...I made the horrible choices I did because I emulated the one person in the world that meant more to me than anything...your mistakes eventualy were my mistakes. I sometimes feel a very real anger and resentment towards you that you taught me how to be a victim all my life. I had to teach myself how to stop thinking and acting like a victim...and now I have to teach that to my daughters. I hope Im not too late...for myself or for them.

10. Mom...you have asked me a million times in my life whether my father was more than just physically abusive to me...Ive always swore to you that he wasnt. I knew you all ready had the heavy burden of bringing him into our lives and forcing his evil onto us. I couldnt add to your burden by revealing this last horrible thing....I have reached a point in my life though that burdens of the past are just too draining to carry...I need to put this burden down before it brings me down by its weight. I swear Mom...if you ask me just one more time...I will tell you the truth this time...are you ready for it?

Anyhow....those are 10 things you dont know about me...not sure if I want you to know them...but then again...the burdens we carry are burdens we choose to carry...only we can decide to put them down. I realize that by putting down these burdens I might be adding to yours...but considering what you have been through and survived Im sure you can handle it. And if you feel you cant...Im here for you...always.

When the line is Crossed...!

Nobody wants to go through life being anti social(ok some people cant help it but that doesnt mean they necessarily choose to be that way) so we strive to be friendly and approachable to a certain extent. Many of us will smile when smiled at....laugh when someone says something funny....joke along when others are joking. Its social human interaction and its what we need to learn to do as children so that we can be considered "normal" socialized adults.

Its rather hard sometimes to know though where to draw the line from just being friendly...to crossing over into sexual harrasment territory....from either side of that line...the one who does it...and the one who is a victim of it.

I started working at my job last year in Jan...I was nervous and scared...just getting out of a very long very abusive marriage. It was my first in many areas of my life...first real job in Bahrain in 20 years...first time in my life being single and making all my own decisions etc(married when I was 18) and first time that I was in the company of other men basically as my office is 99% men and I had just spent 20 years enjoying the company of women almost exclusively. My only real contact with men was to say hello etc to maybe the husband of one of my friends or talking to a doctor etc. Nothing too socialable...nothing at all personal. In other words...I was stunted a great deal in my social interaction abilities with the opposite sex...but how hard could it be...really?

Everything started out well...all the men were very nice...very friendly and helpful in getting me situated and up to speed about my new job and what it entailed. Even though I felt nervous starting and performing a new job adequately...I wasnt all that nervous about being around men almost exclusively. Im a nice person...Im fairly easy to get along with for the most part....how hard could it be?

Within a short time though I realized that one man in particular was a little more friendly than the rest. He took time out to give me directions with work...he talked with me about things other than work...but nothing really personal....and he liked making jokes etc. They were fairly funny so I laughed along. Im known for my sense of humor...and laughing is a great stress reliever...right? Eventually though it became clear that he had other things on his mind...and the office that was once a fun and relaxing place to be...now became a minefield that had to be walked through carefully on a daily basis....and how hard could that be?

The man in question is the second in command at my office...and he holds a place of great respect among the other men who work in and outside of the office. I noticed right away that they treat him with a deference mostly held only for royalty etc. I wont give his nationality but I wil say that he held a unique position that is not commonly held among men from his country...and all the rest of the men who are from his country that worked there look up to him a great deal and respect him without exception. I would assume they see him as the one that made it big while they are all just common labourers...he is their hero is my guess...at least by the way they openly grovel for him and jump when he commands it.

Now I have never been and will never be someone that promotes segregation. I believe men and women are meant to be together in all aspects of life...we share the planet...we share living and we share dying...why cant we share an office space without all that sexual mess getting throw into the mix? Why cant men behave themselves when its clear that the lady in question doesnt want their attention? Why cant married men remember they are married even when the wife in question isnt around to remind him? Why cant men allow you to be a women alongside them...without constantly making it clear that they know you have breasts and an ass and that little place between your thighs(considering women all ready know what their bodies consist of...why do men feel the need to constantly remind us of what God created us with)...and how, as men, they should have a right to talk about it...touch it...and do more than that if given the chance...even if the chance isnt given willingly? In other words...why do men have to constantly be on the hunt for the next sexual conquest...and more importantly....why when men behave like animals around women...why are women blamed for the behavoir men do to them? Why do men see themselves as keepers of morality...when it comes to women...but not to themselves?

I have been made miserable by a man that has no right to do or say the things he has been doing and saying to me. I have considered quitting my job because he has decided my body and my personal space is his right to invade...merely because he is a man. I...believing I would not be believed if I complained about him (I considered the fact that Im no spring chicken and my "hot" days of youth are long behind me...so who would believe me) kept quiet about it to others...all though I let him know time and again that his behavoir was unwanted and not tolerated. I threatened to break his finger if he touched me again...he just laughed and walked away. How do you deal with a man that doesnt see you as having any sort of power over him...or even over yourself? Im guessing things would have gone on much the same way until he made a mistake that got the ball rolling as they say...and he has only himself to blame for this...karma and all that is a good thing Im guessing for some of us. He decided to call my best friend and make slanderous accusations about me to her. For what reasons I have no idea but I have the feeling he fancied her..she had been to my office many times and he made it clear that he liked her...so possibly he was thinking that by showing I was attracted to him...she would "want a piece of that action too"...so to speak....but I dont know really why men do some of the things they do. If your a man...let me know...clear up some of the confusion. So he involves her in this little sordid game...and it was at that moment that I found my backbone...my spine...my balls in other words. How dare he say those disgusting things to her...how dare he hurt her and make her feel that the precious person she saw in me was just a facade and I was just like everyone else...easy and not particular about my choices in life. I saw red...and the rest...as they say...is history. (Many would ask why I didnt cry out before...if your the victim of child abuse...then domestic abuse all your life...there would be no need to ask this question. I have done a lot of growing this past 2 years since becoming single etc...but there is a long road ahead still....I have many self esteem issues to overcome...and men like him seem to home in on these failings and use them to his benefit. Once again...why?)

I marched into his office and he was rather surprised to see me all fired up I believe. I shouted at him that if he ever touched me again I wouldnt break his finger...Id break his f*****g nose...then I would make a formal complaint to the head boss...and then we would see who walked away laughing.

He apologized but I should have known it wasnt over...men like him dont give up so easily...do they? The next night the phone calls started...to her for some reason...not me. More slander against me...I still dont understand why they were calling her..telling her these things. Im not married.I could play around if I wanted...even with a married man if I chose...even if its not a moral thing to do..so who cares what I do...its up to me right? You would think so anyways.

Long story short...he played his hand and he lost. I complained to the head office...he is being dealt with now...I hope its something adequate for the damage he did to me...and to my friendship with my best friend. She didnt believe him or the mysterious phonecaller....but she was hurt a great deal to think that men were using me in this way...were able to easily slander me and make my life hell for no reason other than they could. What I want to know is...why could they. Why do men trash the women that dont want them...why do women trash the women that are subject to the immoral actions of men? Why are the victims of sexual harrassment quite often seen as "deserving of what they get" merely because they are there...in an office..or somewhere where as women..."they have no right to be"(many still believe women should remain in the home and raise kids and get the husbands dinner on the table on time)?

I wont find out what is done to him...about him...until later this week....but I do feel sorry for his wife(yes he has one)...she is the one that no doubt knows all about his immoral behavoirs...and suffers this in her way. For sure Im not the first...and can I believe I will be the last? At least I walk away from him satisfied he will get what he deserved because of what he did to me...but she suffers still.

When Daddy's Home

The girl waited anxiously as she listened for the sound of foosteps from down the hall. Every night while Daddy prepared for work the girl sent silent prayers to God in hopes that this night Daddy would get out the door without finding a reason to delay himself. She tried to stop herself from glancing furitively at the clock every few seconds...if Daddy thought there was something up...there would be heck! to catch. She was such a paranoid she couldnt even bring herself to say "Hell" in her head...for sure Daddy could read her mind with just a glance in her direction...she believed that with all her might. So heck it was...until she was away from Daddy and free to think what she wanted.

As the hour of his departure neared the girl scurried around trying to avoid his wrath by making sure everything was prepared exactly as he liked it...his dinner was hot and laid properly on the table...his lunch was packed neatly in his lunch box...his work boots were cleaned and waiting for his feet to step neatly into them as a last act before heading out the door. The girl quickly scanned the room making sure everything was as it should be...darn! she forgot to put the Bible next to the lunchbox...Lord help her if she ever forgot that particular item. She grabbed it from the top shelf and placed it neatly next to the box...she tried not to look disdainfully down at its scarred black surface...much of her misery was brought upon her by the words written on those pages...Daddy often read them to her just so she would understand why she was being punished. She was almost sure her God and Daddy's god were two different beings...but thats not something she was likely to bring up in conversation with anyone...least of all Daddy.

Suddenly she heard his footsteps coming down the hall...the thump thump of his stockinged feet matched the thumping of her heart beat for beat. She quickly busied herself arranging some pillows on the couch. Daddy did not believe in idle hands...there was always something that needed cleaning...Lord help her if Daddy found that something before she did.

If anyone were to tell her that Daddy really couldnt read her mind...she would just look at them sceptically with a sad shaking of her head and go right on believing that he could. What else would explain what happened that time he had beat her so badly she thought her arm might be broken...as he walked away swinging the belt and breathing heavily she angrily thought of how unjust her punishment had been and in the deepest darkest corner of her mind she had wished him dead(just for a second)...no sooner had the horrible thought skittered through her mind...did Daddy suddenly stop...turn around...and stare at her intently for at least a century or so. She was positive the blood rushing through her veins had turned ice cold...if she had cut herself and felt the blood...for sure it would have been chilled like iced tea. While he stared at her with almost no expression on his face and absolutely no emotion in his eyes ...seemingly trying to probe the corners of her mind ...seeking out that errant thought and bringing it up to the surface like a gas bubble in a pond...she concentrated on keeping her heart going...apparently it was intent on just calling it quits and giving up all pretense on doing what the hearts of 12 year olds are supposed to do...beat strong and steady for at least another 70 years. After an eternity...he turned around and went back to his room. After that she never allowed herself to think anything at all about him if he were in the room...better to be safe than sorry.

Most times she didnt dare think of him even when he was far away at work and she was free to do as she pleased without his piercing dead eyes focused intently on her. She sometimes felt his eyes could most likely see her in the dark...the way some animals could see in the dark. She had read in a book once that some animals could see just as well in the dark as in the light...some even better. She remembered waking suddenly many nights for no apparent reason...but feeling that something wasnt right...she would hold her breath and stare intently into the dark corners of her room...but could never see anything...that didnt mean there wasnt something...or someone...staring back at her. She often dived under the covers just to get that creepy feeling to go away. Quite a few times she had woken up in the night...but for a very good reason...Daddy would be standing by her bed just staring down at her. She always hoped for a fleeting second that she was still asleep...this was all bad dream...but it was never a dream. Deams are for people who have hope for something...what did she have hope for...her 13th bday was about as much as she could look forward too. 13 was the magic number. A teenager...practically a grown up...no longer a little kid...no longer able to kid herself that her situation was normal...ordinary...that Daddy's 'special" love was exactly the same kind of love other little girls got from their Daddy's. Time she grew up and stopped telling herself lies just to make it all easier to bear.

She had made herself a promise on her 12th bday...alone in her room with just a cupcake and a single candle to mark the event...before blowing out the small pitiful flame...she vowed with every fiber of her being that she would run away on her 13th bday...if things hadnt changed. Promises were meant to be kept...one thing she knew and believed in...promises were meant to be kept...especially those you made to yourself. If your couldnt keep a promise to yourself...something nobody else even knew about ...then how could you expect to keep promises made to other people? It was the evening of her 13th bday...the whole day had passed by with her heart nearly in her throat. She tried to keep her mind absolutely blank lest Daddy catch on to her traitorous thoughts...she wasnt taking any chances...she couldnt back down now. She just knew in her heart that if she didnt leave this night...her 13th bday as she had promised herself...she might not make it to her 14th bday....and a promise was a promise.(to be continued)

The Secret Lives of Children

Im standing nervously outside the door...twitching at my fancy jelobya...running my fingers nervously through my perfectly fluffed hair. I dare not touch my painted lips and smear the glossy red color...thats definitely something I dont want to do. I can hear voices on the other side of the door and footsteps coming closer...I take a deep breath and whisper a prayer to God..."let this be the last time, please God, I promise I'll be good"...and then the door is flung open...and my real job begins...again.

She takes me by the hand while I earnestly search for even a glimmer of love or kindness in her face. She has a smile on her lips but they never reach her hard empty eyes...my own tremulous smile falters...and then fades away...I know in my heart that God did not hear my prayer...this wont be the last time. I take another deep breath and resign myself to what lies ahead...I clear my mind and empty it of all other matters...there is no life outside this hotel room. School doesnt exist right now...friends are forgotten...the future doesnt stretch past the next few hours...I try to blank my mind completely...but its impossible...if I could escape by losing my mind into the deepest darkest hole I could find...I would gladly throw myself into the black...without even a whimper of protest escaping my painted lips on the way down....I would go into the black with a peaceful quiet smile....I would....

Angrily(but only I know she is angry as all the while she has that fake smile on her lips) she grasps my arm harder...digging her nails into my skin...and pulls me toward my latest "John". Add him to the long list that extends back to my earliest memories....memories of grasping hands and wet probing tongues...whispers filled with desire(even if I didnt know what "desire" meant I knew what it felt like). My memories are not filled with the sweet childhood dreams of playing with my girlfriends with dolls...or going to the beach with my family...my memories are the stuff porn magazines would be proud of...if I knew what a porn magazine was.

As she leads me to the bed I get the first look at my next customer...my eyes widen briefly as I recognize him from the tv. Everyone knows who he is and so many giggling infatuated girls would no doubt be jealous of me and wish they were in my place instead...I wouldnt wish anyone to be in my place...not even stupid empty headed gigglying girls that worshipped men such as this and called them Pop Stars. If only they knew what this Pops Stars secret desires were...maybe they wouldnt be so willing to buy his music and lust over his pictures...maybe?

While I stand before him not saying a word...the woman presents me as a gift...she exclaims over my innocence(all though we both know that innocence was paid for long ago)...she sells me the same way people sell cars...animals...their souls. Hoping for a good price...but accepting whats offered in the end. When they finally agree on a price she quickly removes my clothes and tells me to lay on the bed....and the night begins....and seemingly never ends. Im like a doll or a robot...she tells me to open my legs and I do it without protest(there is no use in protesting...her heart is hard...her ears are long since blocked to my begging for mercy). For the rest of the night she is like the director of a two person play...ordering movement...changing positions ...occassionally recording it all on my mobile phone. All the while Im desperately searching for that deep dark hole...if only I could find it.

Finally the night is done...the man is spent...the money paid and we silently don our hijabs and abayas and return to our house without speaking a word to each other. She talks to herself though about the money made and the plans she has for it....to buy me land...buy me things....I dont want things...I dont want land...I dont want that stinking soul burning money...if only she knew what I really wanted from her(I scream these thoughts in my head and pray she hears them...she never looks my way).

We arrive home and I rush to my bedroom and quickly undress and throw myself into the shower....I make the water as hot as I can stand it...burning my skin red....washing the feel of sex away...if only I could open my head and wash my brain as well. I stay in the shower until the water runs cold...then reluctantly step out and stand before the mirror. I look at this body from the neck down(I cant look at that girl in the mirror in the eye...she is so disgusting and not worth even a glance)...the body is good...no fat on it...no bruises or scars. The body any 16 year old would envy...all the damage is on the inside...if only people could see it...they wouldnt accept me even to walk beside them in the street...sit beside them in the classroom. If they knew the people I had been with...people who had paid to use my body...Pop Stars and Princes...Bollywood Stars and Princesses....I had been with more famous or well known people then most A List parties...and all those clients walked through the crowds with their heads held high..never once thinking of the night spent with me....but I never forget...I wish I could as easily as they seemed to do. I sometimes wonder how people dont see the real me...the slutty disgusting whore that I am...I sometimes feel like there is a sign on my forehead proclaiming my status to the world...sometimes I feel like I should write it there myself.

Once Im in bed I try to forget the day...I have a test tomorrow...I didnt have time to study...but I think I'll do ok. My bedroom door opens and she comes and sits on my bed. Not saying anything for awhile. I silently plead with her to give me a reason...a reason for the punishment she has been giving me ever since I can remember...I wish I knew what I had done wrong...I would fix myself and make it all right again. Eventually she sighs and gets up to leave...before she closes the door I call out to her...."goodnight Mom".....she pauses but then closes the door...she doesnt reply.

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Since I heard the story yesterday from a friend of mine about a girl same as the one above...a 16 year old Bahraini girl that was sold by her mother to many many famous and well known personalities here in Bahrain and around the gulf...selling her young body(since she was very small) to anyone that would pay the high price...I couldnt get her off my mind. I dreamt of her last night...she has not left my thoughts...I want to cry for her the way her mother never did. This story is absolutely true as my friend saw many of the videos generated during these encounters...she was shocked and disgusted at all the familiar faces here in Bahrain she seen doing dispicable things to this girl...all with her own mother choreographing each encounter. Then these animals go and present themselves to the public as moral human beings...and nobody suspecting what black hearts they really have. She wishes she could spread the videos and let everyone know the truth...but the Bahrain prosecution has them now...and most likely they will never see the light of day...as I said...many of those faces are too well known for this scandal to get out.

I cry for this girl...and for my own two daughters...and for every child that is used and abused to fullfill the disgusting sexual fantasies of the adults they are meant to trust...and I cry for her that her own mother is the one that held her hand and led her to these monsters. May God bless her and ease her pain and keep her from finding that black hole while she heals...and may God keep the hottest part of hell for animals such as these...and turn a deaf ear to their pleading for mercy...like the animals that turn a deaf ear to the cries of little children...again and again and again. Ameen