At 8 Years Old, I Had No Filter

I was 8 years old when I was sent to live with Granma and Grandpa, along with my brother and 3 of my cousins. I think that my mom and Aunt Susan wanted a break, and maybe there was some money involved. They sold it to us as some grand adventure with our grandparents. I think it was a little bit of everything.

The plane ride over was an adventure in itself. Imagine being an 8 year-old boy, the oldest of 5 unchaperoned boys on a 9 hour flight. We had a blast walking around, talking to people, and making a general nuisance of ourselves. I bet the flight attendants were glad when the flight was over.

Coming out of the plane terminal, Grandma and Grandpa were waiting for us. I ran up and gave them both great big hugs. All 5 of us were talking at the same time about the fun we had on the plane. After gathering our luggage, we walked out of the terminal and got in Grandma's brand new Chrysler New Yorker. It was huge and fit everyone comfortably. Our first meal in Texas was donuts from Dunkin Donuts and cold milk. We all thought it was awesome.

Driving out of Dallas, I was struck by the enormity of it all. To a small country boy from Hawaii, the Dallas skyline was ginormous! I stayed awake the entire time talking to Grandma, too excited to fall asleep like the others.

When we were sent to Texas to live with my grandparents, summer had just started. Aunt Terrie and Uncle Dave still lived at home with my grandparents, too, so they both took turns keeping an eye on us. It was cool that Grandma had a swimming pool in her backyard because, coming from Hawaii, where we got to spend so much of our time at the beach, the pool was almost a necessity to keep us occupied. Toward the end of summer, my aunt and uncle both got jobs, so my grandparents had to find someone who could watch us until school started. The person they found, Elaine, was the daughter of a friend. She was seventeen.

I remember the first day Elaine came to watch us. She was beautiful, and she was so nice to us. She was wearing a pair of dove shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top over her swimsuit. I remember wanting to see what her body looked like underneath her clothes and wanting to touch her skin and kiss her.

I know that I shouldn't have had these thoughts at 8 years old, but I did.

On Elaine's second day with us, we decided to play hide and seek. I worked it out so that I could hide with her in my aunt's walk-in closet. It was a lot easier than I suspected, and in the dark, I moved closer to her. I remember her scent was a mix of soap, shampoo, and bubblegum. As I moved closer to her, she stilled, my heart beat hard in my chest with anticipation, and I kissed her. After a moment of hesitation, she kissed me back, and then I felt her tongue in my mouth. We kissed until the closet door started opening, indicating we had been found by one of the other kids. The next time we hid together, I moved to pull her top down along with her bra and began sucking her nipples. She didn't resist. She seemed to enjoy it as much as I did, so I thought it was ok.

This went on for a few weeks until I started to get sick. When they took me to the doctor, it was discovered that I had mononucleosis or the "kissing" disease. I remember being asked as I came out of the doctor's office, "Who have you been kissing?" I didn't answer, but I'm sure I blushed... After a little investigation, the adults figured out what was going on and stopped Elaine from coming over.

It is interesting to note here that the entire time, I was the aggressor. At 8 years old, I had no filter, and even though she was 17, Elaine had no defense against my persistence except for my inexperience. I remember she responded to my advances by pulling my mouth tighter against her chest and other things that I now know were expressions of arousal. However, she never tried to take it further, and I didn't know enough then to do so. Although my family found out about what I had been doing with Elaine and stopped her from babysitting us, there were no real recriminations. The only feedback I received was considered positive, a high-five from my uncle for what I had "accomplished" on my road to manhood at such a young age. The damage this episode did to my understanding of boundaries and sexuality can not be diminished..

Almost every single guy that I have met in prison has a similar story. To most of us, the molestation we experienced wasn't considered molestation at all. Almost every single guy who has had a sexual experience with an older girl or woman when he was a minor remembers the experience fondly, bearing no overtly negative emotional scars and can not understand what the fuss is about.

Frequently, like in my case, they were congratulated for having these experiences by peers or other male role models in their lives, making it even more confusing and difficult to understand how negatively these experiences impacted their judgment concerning sex.

Sometimes, I think about Elaine and what it said about her that she let me initiate these things with her and found pleasure in it. Did I scare her? I don't think so. Was she some kind of perverse girl who got off on messing with someone so much younger than her? I don't think that's it either. Was I someone safe to experiment with? Maybe. Was there something darker in her past that blurred her boundaries and made it difficult for her to respond appropriately when faced with this incredibly inappropriate and awkward situation?

This is most likely.

Even after all I've learned, I don't blame her for anything. I do not believe anything would have happened if I had not initiated it. I still pray for her, that she is okay, that she was not harmed before, by or after her experience with me.