"If I can't love you, what makes you think anyone can?"

Around the late 70s, early 80s, my mom and I lived in this small house off a street called Baltimore in Highland Park. She used to party a lot, and have all kinds of strangers in the house. They would smoke PCP, drink and do all kinds of drugs. As a child I would be among all of that chaos, and it was just normal for me. I remember this one time when I was about 6-years-old, during a party, I had to use the restroom. When I opened the door, there was a girl sitting on the toilet taking a piss. She was maybe 19-years-old. I walked in, and she immediately said, “Oh! Close the door,” She told me to come towards her, and I was embarrassed and looked at her shyly. She started saying, “You're so handsome, you're so cute”, flirting with me. She asked me if I liked her breasts, and I was just kind of shocked as she pulled her top down, exposing them to me, asking me to touch them. My mom walked in on us and immediately started yelling at me, “What the fuck are you doing, you little asshole?” I think this was the first time my mom started degrading me, telling me not to be stupid and naive. She would constantly tell me that girls would only play with your mind and if she couldn’t love me, how could anyone else?

By the early 80’s, when my mom lost custody of me, I started living with my dad. He had a friend who lived across the street from us whose young daughter babysat me while my dad was at work. She was no older than 17, and I was maybe 7 at the time. I enjoyed being over there because they always fed me, and I was able to eat a lot of food. They took care of me and were really nice to me. But at the same time, there was this weird thing going on where my babysitter was doing these things to me. I didn’t know any better and obviously I liked the affection, as kids do. She’d say something like “Hey, make sure you don't tell anybody about this.” And so, she would make me kiss her, and would pull down her top and make me kiss her breasts. I remember she would always spray this perfume on her. Maybe she wanted me to think it smelled good. Matter of fact, to this day, if I taste perfume, it literally brings me back to that time and it disgusts me. Eventually, things escalated, and she would start groping me and trying to masturbate me. She would also put syrup on her ***** and tell me to kiss it. She would continue to “teach” me all these sexual things and this went on for a couple of years until I was about 10-years-old.

When my stepmother came into the picture and I started getting pushed out of the house, I started spending a lot more time at my mom’s apartment down on skid row. I was becoming more exposed to that whole lifestyle. She was prostituting, and by 12-years-old I was becoming familiar with all her friends at the apartment. I started buying small things for them, like candy and sodas. I remember this one girl, Sandra. Sandra was this 20-year-old, thin, blonde-haired, blue-eyed prostitute from Nebraska. I don't know how she ended up downtown. She probably thought that she was gonna be an actress or something and work in Hollywood, but ended up getting strung out on heroin. She was a little childlike and innocent as well, and I had a crush on her. I would always buy her an ice cream sandwich, and so my mom caught me one time and started noticing that I was doing that and again told me not to be stupid. When I asked what she meant by that, she would respond, “You think these girls are going to fall in love with you, don’t be stupid and think about it.” The first time I experienced oral sex was with Sandra. I was maybe 12 at the time and Sandra would tell me, “You see, being nice to girls does pay off.” She was, of course, doing this while my mom wasn’t home, and it continued to happen for a few years. I don’t even know what my mom would have said if she walked in on us, probably, “You better be paying her”, or something along those lines.

There are a few more incidents like this that occurred in my early years, and I think back on these occasions and I am just shocked to think that I wasn’t being protected the way I should have been as a child. I’m so embarrassed. My mom put me in so many dangerous situations and exposed me to way too much as a child. I think maybe I tried to defend her by saying she was trying to teach me to not be too nice to girls and get taken advantage of. But then, at the same time, she would apologize to me often for not being able to love me the way she was supposed to. I don't think it was my fault, I think it was her own fault.

It's fucked up, because I kind of had these mixed emotions. I had all these amazing women in my life; my grandmother, my aunts, my cousins, and so I was struggling with finding an opinion on women and what love was supposed to look and feel like. One minute my mom is telling me I can’t be loved, and exposing me to this one side of women and sex. But then I have all these other family members and women that are in my life, that really do love me and care about me and treat me so well.  It was confusing going through puberty and trying to figure out how to treat women. I think, for the most part, I wasn't as great as I could have been. I thought about girls and I knew that I liked them and wanted to be nice to them, but then I didn't want to be a sucker and be played. So I just never allowed myself to get attached. It led me to be way more promiscuous, risky and wild than most people.

Now, as a 48-year-old man, it’s just me. I don’t have kids, I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend and I think I’m okay with it. But, I do often feel like I’ve missed out. I just knew that l was a fuck up, and I wouldn’t want to raise a kid in the lifestyle I grew up in. I’ve tried to form relationships with women while in here, but I can never let my guard down. When I do get hurt, it's like this child comes out, and I can hear my mom saying; "you see, I told you that you can't be loved."

When I go to visit, it's the only time I ever get to see children, and it's incredible. It makes me so happy to see them running around and being kids. It’s the only time I get to see new life around here. I’m constantly surrounded by men who are waiting to die, so just for a minute it gives me a glimpse of a future, and I just hope that they are being cared for and protected the way they are supposed to be. But in reality, the majority of the children who come through here, will one day be sitting where I'm at today.