Eunuch emotional signs in childhood

thefraj11-12-2005 10:27 AM

Eunuch emotional signs in childhood

I apologise in advance, because I know this is probably a difficult topic for many.

One thing that stands out in early childhood, is how unusually emotional I was. Taking criticism personally, getting emotional over movies, etc. I'm curious to know if others noticed something similar. It's well documented that many male-to-female transsexuals are often very emotional as children, so would it be fair to suppose there may be a similar phenomenon with this condition?

I think about some of the phrases my father would use: "You are just a big softee", "dozy faggot", "you shouldn't take everything to heart". Even though it was never said maliciously (the first two were actually terms of endearment!) I always resented that last one because - this was a very integral part of me. It was like suggesting there was something wrong with me as a person. This reminded me of how much I enjoy that part of myself now. (when I'm not a complete wreck that is!)

So that was what made me wonder - is it possible that parents have subconciously noticed something (as parents often do!), long before the significance of it is realised?

Sorry I should have used the term "voluntary eunuchs", but I hope everyone understood what I was on about!

~Rog

Paolo 11-12-2005 11:41 AM

Re: Eunuch emotional signs in childhood

It might interesting if those "in our predicament" - so to say - would sit down and think back, making a list of the things in childhood that we might consider strange or "not normal" for boyhood behavior. This might prove difficult, however, in that a lot of the readers here probably don't know what to consider "abnormal" for boyhood behavior.

Of course, I realize that not everyone here has a herd of wildebeast (I mean boys) on hand to study to draw comparisons to, but I do. What I come up with might be interesting, as I can honestly say that I didn't do (and usually didn't want to) many of the things that I see my five + spares doing now.

I don't know if Fraj is onto something or not, but I for one am interested in it.

thefraj11-12-200512:45 PM

Re: Eunuch emotional signs in childhood

I know exactly what you're onto Paolo! I couldn't imagine myself doing some of the things I see young boys do these days either (though I only see those playing in the street!). I wonder if I give some examples from my life:

* In primary (U.S.: elementary?) school I asked if I could play netball with the girls instead of football with the boys. It wasn't nice getting muddy and hurt, but most of all I found the extreme competativeness frightening. It's hard to explain, I just hated the way the boys seemed to become ultra-competative, almost violent... and just didn't feel comfortable in that situation.

* When I was about 5 I remember eating a gingerbread man. My dad cried out "ouch!" each time I took a bite - teasing me. By the third bite I couldn't eat it, and got very tearful - I didn't want to hurt anyone. My mum and dad laughed of course, and said he wouldn't do it anymore, but I just couldn't eat anymore. Looking back with fond memories, I know this is why I feel uncomfortable eating anything that resembles something. Chocolate Easterbunnies/Santas are a definite no-no for example. Eastereggs are fine for some reason though.

* I have always bitten my nails - but at the age of 8, my mother threatened to paint my nails with polish that would taste nasty. She then said "and then you'll look like a girl!". I wasn't too bothered, I remember looking at my nails, and thinking "well, so long as it's a nice colour...". I've no idea if she knew what I was thinking, but she quickly added: "And I'll make sure they're different colours - you'll look like a clown - and everyone will laugh at you!". Of course this fear of social chastisment did the trick, and I just said "I'll be good".

* Getting emotional watching movies, like The Snowman, and (thanks to Sac_Mec who recently reminded me) it happened with Red Balloon too (but I suspect plenty more!)

* I've never been able to use urinals.

What all this means, I've no idea (or even if it's connected at all!) Just hoping to illicit some thoughts from others on the subject, though I realise it's probably highly personal.

This is probably a little off topic, but there arn't many boys down my street, but there are two girls who I suspect are sisters. A couple of days ago I noticed they had a tea-party set out, with all the little table and chairs and everything. And the poor little boy was joining in too and seemed to be having fun. I just thought it was adorable. I think the two teddies also present at the table completed the picture. I imagine they would be enjoying themselves too http://www.eunuch.org/Public/Images/ea1/E9.gif

Sac_mec 11-12-2005 01:48 PM

Re: Eunuch emotional signs in childhood

Many many interesting points there Fraj. I tried e-mailing you but you do need to clear some space for new messages. As to your points:

1) As a child I wanted to play with the girls on the playground during breaks at infant school (5-8 yrs) and I never played competitively at all with boys.

I always hated sports and mud and only enjoyed indoor basketball.

2) I always found using pubic urinals very difficult; I would/do spend ages standing waiting for the pee flow to start and it takes ages and ages, all the more so if there is anyone around and that could have sent wrong messages as to why I was standing there with a small penis not leaking.

3) I get very emotional at some films. My memory of cinema films is poor but I have come out of the cinema in a real state, releasing tears and alot of pain;

maybe some films reach emotional triggers that we have tried very hard to suppress.

4) I am saddened to see that so many war games are given by parents to male children. I was a bookworm and was reading Wilkie Collins and Dickens at about 12 years old. I thrived on the public library and hated being in groups

with other boys.

These are just a few thoughts that appear to agree closely with the ideas

you started in this interesting thread Fraj. I have a feeling many of us will share this sort of quiet, gentle, background - even when we were children and I was a real "Mummy's boy" too who loved his Teddy Bears etc.. well beyond the time others discarded them.

Riverwind 11-12-2005 09:47 PM

Re: Eunuch emotional signs in childhood

First let me say the Paolo's new avatar is, well, the real Paolo showing through.

Fraj, Like the rest of this group I think you are on to something, It may be time for Jesus to start another servey.

As a young kid I played with the kids that lived near me, about half were girls.

I never had a teddy bear as a kid, I always wanted one but did not want the rest of what went with it. I was the youngest of three sons. The first son was the great at all kinds of sports. My other brother was gay, and I was told to be more like Al. I had already failed because I would never be any good at sports.

It was not tell this last year that I came to understand this. For the last 12 or so years I have collected many teddy bears, even my grandkids know there mine and not to be played with.

Its funny how as a kid we hear from our parents, instructions on life, that screw up our lives because the message was not clear. I hated sports, most of all baseball, I know, now I am going to be blasted for it, but in High School I found my out, Marching Band for PE credit and then in the spring go out for track, my event was the long jump, this was something that my brother could not do. I guess I still hate that bastard, figers - he is still alive. My other brother I feel his loss everyday.

Roger, why did you start this thread?

River

sag11111-12-2005 10:02 PM

Re: Eunuch emotional signs in childhood

I can remember my dad telling me I would never amount to anything and that has been with me all my life.Now I am not sure this had anything to do with my being a eunuch today but i know the feeling of not being worthy and always less than has always been hard on me.I have found having a Domina in my life is the best for me thies days but even this will never be enough .I will never be able to do enough ........thank you for this post

thefraj11-13-2005 06:05 AM

Re: Eunuch emotional signs in childhood

Originally Posted by Riverwind

Roger, why did you start this thread?

It's quite complicated really. It started a few weeks ago when I remembered my dad calling me a "dozy faggot", and made me start thinking on my childhood of what could make someone call their son that. (even tho it was never done nastily, and actually a term of endearment)

Then it dawned on me in another thread that I really was emotional when I was younger (not to mention weird ... I guess I still am) and probably deserving of the things my dad said (I remember getting tearful after watching the Red Balloon and Snowman) that's when I remembered the other two phrases my dad often used.

I hope it's okay to say that Sac_Mec PM-ed about this thread, and it made me wonder if it might be worth starting a new thread about childhood to see if anyone else had noticed anything 'abnormal' about their behaviour in childhood.

It's fair to say on EA as a whole there is a disproportionately large number of really kind and caring people than could be hoped to meet in the streets. And I wonder why; what makes us different in that way?

~Rog

thefraj11-13-2005 06:45 AM

Re: Eunuch emotional signs in childhood

I must apologise, because I can't pretend to know what goes on in peoples lives. One trait (that I'd waffled on in my own round-a-bout way but somehow completely overlooked) which seems to be emerging, is difficulty with identity and expected gender role. (Both Sac_Mec and I seem to have similar lists, so I won't quote these) I really hope nobody minds me quoting them here:

Originally Posted by Paolo

I can honestly say that I didn't do (and usually didn't want to) many of the things that I see my five + spares doing now.

Originally Posted by riverwind

My other brother was gay, and I was told to be more like Al

Its funny how as a kid we hear from our parents, instructions on life that screw up our lives because the message was not clear

Originally Posted by sag111

I can remember my dad telling me I would never amount to anything and that has been with me all my life. but i know the feeling of not being worthy and always less than has always been hard on me.

I'm very greatful people can share something so personal. I hope in a strange way it will also bring a little comfort to people when it becomes clear they're not alone in these feelings.

Hehe, maybe another survey is a good idea. But I suppose in a way maybe this is the precursor, opening up and talking about this may help identify elements that are worth probing. Maybe finding out which questions need to be asked http://www.eunuch.org/Public/Images/ea1/E9.gif

~Rog

Sac_mec 11-13-2005 11:53 AM

Re: Eunuch emotional signs in childhood

I believe that some elements of personality may well be 'inherited' - for example one side of my family going way back always had loving, caring, tactile natures.

However, the other side were the opposite - very 'proper', very correct and very 'Victorian' in their beliefs especially about personal issues; they never showed any emotion, or gave any.

Of the 3 children, two of us are very caring and gentle and soft and therefore

both vulnerable but also hugely rewarded because having a tender nature is so important. Also both of us are quiet people who dislike agression.

I've heard it said that the first 5 years of your life are extremely important in shaping the adult you become and I believe this to be very true.

tugon11-13-2005 12:09 PM

Re: Eunuch emotional signs in childhood

Thank you thefraj for bringing up this subject. As I have said before I feel more of a connection with my fellow eunuchs than any other group of people. I to have had feelings and experiences that made me feel different from other boys at a young age. One of the things I remember most strongly is how uncomfortable I was to go without a shirt. I still do not understand why. I was a thin kid and no one made fun of me for my build but I would find ways to cover my chest if someone walked in and I did not have at least a t-shirt covering me. I would carry a pillow in front of me if I had to go downstairs to grab a shirt. These feelings carried on and during phys ed I would panic when the coach would say we would play shirts and skins. The only time I enjoyed phys ed was when they played war ball. I would bring a book and when the first ball was thrown I would go get struck so I could read and would not get sweaty enough to have to take a shower.

As a boy most of my play was spent in my room building something or playing with a chemistry set. Later I enjoyed taking things apart and even later I learned to put them back together. So the majority of my time was spent as far away from team activities as possible. A few of my friends could not understand my dislike of sports but when they were finished playing they would come and spend time doing the things I liked. They just knew sports were not for me and never pressed the issues.

I also was very empathetic for others at a young age. I do not know if I was more or less emotional but I always remebered worrying about people from an early age. One story my grandmother told me was a time she took me shopping and I was about four years old. She had bought me several things and I told her I did not want anything else until she bought something for herself. Even then I thought she was doing too much for me. My father used to take me to bars with him before I started school. A woman came in dragging her young children and I felt so bad for those children but I never focused on how bad it was for me. In a lot of ways I never dealt with my own feelings but was very aware of others emotions. I guess I do not know if I was more emotional.

Paolo 11-13-2005 09:31 PM

Re: Eunuch emotional signs in childhood

I suppose the beginning is the best place to start in looking for things relevant to this discussion. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to the thread here, but I’ll confess – I’ve blocked out most of the memories of my time known as “childhood”. It wasn’t pleasant, and I wouldn’t repeat it again for anything. Here are a few things that stand out, though, which I think are related in some way to my fascination and personal desires involving eunuchism. It will be up to the readers to spot our points in common. I can see parallels with Roger already, though.

Parents – I was taken away from my mother when I was about 1 year old. My father left shortly after I was born. The family went to great lengths so that I don’t even have a picture of him. He never made an effort to keep in touch, pay support, or even make contact at any time. When I started school, I realized that I didn’t have a dad like the other kids did. My father was a thing of imagination only that no one wanted to talk about. I saw my mom on the weekends, along with her random and assorted boyfriends. When school was in, I lived with her parents. When it was out, I lived with her. I don’t recall any of the boyfriends – except for 1 – ever taking note that I even existed, though. He enjoyed hitting me; to this day, the name “Mickey” makes my blood run cold. Grandfather worked 2 jobs, and I saw little of him. I don’t recall him ever spending much time with me either. That left my primary caregivers being Grandmother and her various sisters – a gossipy bunch of old women (one a widow and one a spinster) and assorted other ladyfriends from the church. Later on, at about age 12 through 14, came my stepfather. In short, I wasn’t the right “kind” of boy for him and he hated me. He paid plenty of attention to me, though, unlike the rest; however, it was mainly abuse and torture which often included castration threats. I suppose this was a major screw-up in my psyche, as at the onset, he went out of his way to make me like him – and it worked. Probably his greatest accomplishment was abandoning me at age 12 in his semi truck in Detroit at a loading dock, where I was taken care of by a large black foreman and (his same-age-as-me son?) who took me across the street to some run-down diner made from an old railcar. This was my first experience with someone “not white”, and it was better than any of the encounters with the few white males in my life. My only other relative was my mother’s brother, and my uncle – I don’t think – was even aware that I existed either. I was afraid of him, and never went near him at family functions. Nor did he make any attempt to be nice to me. It was his wife that informed me, when I was almost 30, that I’d had the mumps when I was 3 and they never told me. This explains my late, drawn-out, and long trip through puberty and very probably my “testicular crash” in later life.

Friends – Before school, all my playmates were my cousins and later a younger sister, all girls. I was the only boy in the generation, and it soon became obvious that I was different from the others – by being a boy. I can remember crying myself to sleep at night from watching television shows, especially things like “The Brady Bunch” or “The Waltons” in the fact that I so desperately wanted a little brother and a “normal” family like other kids at school. I remember having the impression that no one understood why things on TV made me cry. That changed by my late teens and early 20’s, when things in the glandular system were working, but came back with a vengeance when the hypogonadism set in.

I can also remember being curious as to why boys had “stuff between their legs” and girls didn’t. Remember that I didn’t have any boys around regularly to compare notes with. (This after seeing an illustration in the encyclopedia). Grandmother explained it all, and afterwards I wasn’t at all sure why I had to be so different. This explained the neverending toilet seat issue, though, and I was expected to go and pee outside, weather permitting. I could stand up, girls had to sit. This made me even more different, and I resented it. I never had a bath with another male parental figure, and the only one who ever saw me naked was Grandmother; Mom was never around.

There were 2 other health issues as well, those being problems from a loose, “token” circumcision (probably Plastibell) in infancy and near chronic constipation. Keeping my penis clean and pain free was something that Grandmother always complained about, but I don’t recall any amputation threats from her. It was always, “It would be easier if you didn’t have this thing.” The cure for constipation always came in the form of nasty Fletcher’s Castoria oral liquid for children, followed by soap and water enemas with the bulb. I was deemed incapable of giving myself a bath up until the age of 9 (a valid argument, really!) and a lot of attention was paid to my backside and genitals as there was always “something wrong.” I think it was at this time that the idea of “being a boy” was just too troublesome began to surface, but the idea of becoming of becoming a girl was something that I can say honestly NEVER entered my mind. I didn’t know that could be done, and I never thought about it and never asked. I would ask about castration only once when I was about 11, and ended up with a “shrink” for 6 or 8 weeks. Grandmother was dead by then, replaced by Grandmother #2 who didn’t much care for me and literally ignored my existence.

There were other boys in the neighborhood, but I didn’t meet up with any of them until I was 8 or 9. Up until then, I had an imaginary “friend/brother” that never showed up in front of adults. To this day, only I know about “him”. That was when James moved in around the corner from me, and he had 4 sisters and was 2 years older than me. If it hadn’t been for him, I’m not sure I ever would have experienced anything like fishing, dirt bikes, etc. All of which I loved, but were mostly off-limits because it was “dangerous”; still, that didn’t stop us. He taught me how “to be a boy,” as he called it and was a patient teacher.

During school, I never got on well with other boys. At recess, I played with girls. I was no good at sports, in fact, I didn’t know what baseball even WAS until the first grade. I soon realized that no matter how hard I tried, I was never going to be any good at it. I was more interested in the library, music/choir, art class, and had NO use for PE. (By the way, the PE teacher for 6 years was a lesbian, and I encountered her partner in junior high/high school. Note – they were certainly kinder and more understanding than the maniac boys’ PE teacher in jr. hi/hi though!) By 5th/6th grade, at recess the boys were all playing at sports and the girls had decided that I wasn’t a proper playmate anymore. That left me pretty much alone, realizing that I didn’t fit in with the boys OR the girls. I continued to be a “loner” up through jr. hi, when I changed schools and was reunited in school with my oldest cousin – a girl. I hung out with her and her friends, all girls, and took classes mainly aimed at girls like typing, office practice, etc. I couldn’t imagine things like woodshop or auto mechanics. PE was torture, and I was lucky to pull a “pass” out of it. No matter how hard I tried, there was no “boy activity” that I could become even acceptable at and I soon gave up. I think my relationship with girls at that stage was the fact that they knew that I didn’t want anything from them. One quote from Kim that I recall is, “It’s not like he’s really a boy.” Ouch!

By this time, I had already been researching eunuchs and castration, and had spent time with a “shrink” to try and figure out this expanding hatred of my male genitals, especially my testicles. It was around this time that I started “self harming”, with either rubber bands, shoestrings, and although I had easy access to an elastrator (farm life), I never had the nerve to close it on my balls. Only once did I mention it to another boy, and the idea repulsed him so badly that we never spoke of it again, or to one another for almost a month.

Note – my voice didn’t even TRY to change until I was like 15, and it took years. I didn’t shave until I was 17. I was short, and had long arms and a weight problem that came and went, up and down. I was also the only one with glasses, allergies, asthma and being “poor” through elementary school. All of this made me quite different. I was also the only boy in class to maintain – mostly – all A’s and sometimes A-B honor roll.

Other boys – by jr. hi, there were a few other boys in the neighborhood. The five of us soon became a “pack”, but I was the youngest and smallest, and as I can recall, submissive. I went along and did what I was told. Over the next few years, things shifted as the others grew up and younger boys came along. This made me the oldest, suddenly one summer, it seemed, and the closest one in age was 2 years younger than me. My only other notable experience was in Boy Scouts, with all of the other boys in the neighborhood. This is probably the only thing I have any pleasant memories of, and overall, it went well. It was at about this time that I realized that I had strong attractions to some of the boys, as well as a few of the girls I had known. Looking back, I think the attractions to the boys were much stronger, however. I hadn’t had very much positive male attention in my life, and I wanted it – badly. I never had a sexual encounter with any of the other boys, however, except for the communal showers at camp where nothing involving ME ever happened. I did interrupt something once between 2 younger boys, though, and I was very put off in that even after I explained that it didn’t bother me in the least, I wasn’t invited! I never put forth the offer, though, and nothing beyond naked “towel snapping” or “shower wrestling” ever happened. I don’t really consider these sexual adventures, though. Only on one campout did the weather mandate sharing sleeping bags zipped together, and although nothing happened, I slept better with another boy next to me than I ever had before. I’d always had a problem with nightmares, waking up, insomnia, and seeing things (only at night) that were not there to anyone else. I used to sleepwalk, too.

Adult Friend – If you’re not familiar with this term, it generally carries a negative connotation. An adult friend is just what it sounds like – an adult who is not a parent, guardian, or usually even a relation to a boy. He is a friend, putting himself on the level of other boys despite the fact that he’s an adult. In most people’s minds, I have found, this automatically equates to “child molester”. In my case, it wasn’t like that at all. Had it not been for him, I probably wouldn’t have survived childhood. He was the single-never-married older man in the neighborhood, which means – these days – he would be avoided as labeled as “dangerous”. In my day, though, that automatically meant that every kid in the neighborhood sought him out. I don’t know if it was because I lived next door, but I became the favorite. He was the one person in my life who didn’t look at everything I did as “wrong” and seldom offered any kind of correction. He was the one who built up my love of nature and the outdoors, and usually the only person who could get me to take my shirt off. I hated short sleeves, and couldn’t be without a shirt, although I didn’t like to wear shoes either. I hated long pants as well, and to this day, the sight of a boy in a “hoodie” or long sleeves with shorts always gets my attention because I always got yelled at for dressing like that. But he didn’t care how I dressed, and touching me, whether in play or just affection, was never a problem for him. No one else ever wanted to touch me, I don’t recall. When he died, when I was 30-something, it tore me up worse than the death of my own mother. To this day, I still cry when random memories hit me. I wasn’t his first Young Friend, I later found out, but I was the last one.

Molestation – happened once, attempted once. And NOT by my Adult Friend. My stepfather accomplished it – once – and the fact was that I liked it and he knew it, and it disgusted him. My sixth grade teacher “stalked” me all year long, but I never told anyone. He never succeeded, because at that point, I was scared of him (I was always the one who got spanked at school, and never before 6th grade or by anyone else) or kept after or inside at recess. Everyone, especially the other boys, labeled me as the “teacher’s pet” and I hated it. One boy, Sean, pointed out that “you’re the only one he ever touches.” God, I hated that kid; I suppose now I was jealous of him. The teacher did accomplish a private “sex ed” lesson in the boys’ restroom once, where I was scared senseless over the size of his penis. This was standing at the urinals, and I’ve had “flow” problems with them ever since! Of course, the one molestation incident damaged my already-delicate relationship with my stepfather far beyond repair. It never happened again. About a year later, he literally went on a killing spree. I was the only one who survived. Ironically, I was the main target, too.

Accusations – once I was the oldest boy on the block, so to say, I developed an “older brother” attitude towards the younger boys. I still had my Adult Friend next door, and we remained very close up into my late teens. It was also at this time that I began to move up the ranks in Boy Scouts, and was becoming a commonly mentioned name in the papers, for school, Scouts, etc. I “adopted” one boy as a little brother, so to speak, and we spent almost every free moment together. I never did anything “sexual” to him, but his 2 older sisters didn’t really like me, but tolerated me. I think it was because I kept him out of their hair! To this day, I think the day we took the transmission out of his dirt bike and took it apart to try and fix it is why I developed an aversion to shop class, etc. His dad was quiet, but prone to violence, and we were all scared of him. The most he ever said to me was, “What a mess, can you fix it?” upon seeing the disassembled transmission. Shortly after this, I was asked to end my relationship with Bobby when it got out that we had been swimming in underwear, and later naked, in the creek behind the house. I had my first car by then, and since everyone worked and no one was home, I took him in town one day to buy his summer league baseball stuff. I’d been his “default unofficial babysitter” for a long time already. His family went crazy over the car ride, for some reason. One day that summer, our relationship just ended. He defended me when his one sister brought up the fact that she saw me “touch him”, and what could have been a disaster was avoided. We were simply wrestling, by the way, but she didn’t see it that way.

A note on the assorted sisters of my friends – all of them were older, bigger, and meaner than us boys. Busting a boy in the balls was great fun, and “cutting it off” was often mentioned. We lived in fear of those girls.

Accusations in later life – It wasn’t until college that I started seeing a girl regularly for the first time. She was my best friend’s sister. He was gay, she was a single mother of a little boy. It didn’t take long for the rumors to destroy that relationship, and it’s a long story. Needless to say, I lost friend, mother and boy in one swoop. That was the official end of my heterosexual dating and/or pursuits. There was also one other incident involving my sister and one of my nephews, which HE let slip when he was about 6. That led to a 2-year separation from them, even though nothing happened and the boy was only parroting something she'd said when she was drunk. Still, the thought was obviously there in her mind and the betrayal of trust it brought still makes me cry when I think about it.

Summary – I was the only boy in the family, and who had a tenuous relationship with other boys. I had almost no male role modeling or male friends, and I always felt “different”. My “parents” were uncaring and in a constant state of change due to divorce, boyfriend overthrow, etc. I had an Adult Friend. I was more emotional than the few other boys I knew, and often called down in that I could never do anything “right”. I never could do anything that other boys did, and didn’t want to. I knew that I was different from a very early age, and was often called a “crybaby”. I even made the mistake of mentioning once that I wanted to be castrated when I was 11 or 12, before puberty. Recall the “shrink” adventure I mentioned. THAT was certainly no help, and I think it fuelled the fixation. I viewed the fact that I was male as “not fair.” Even time spent with other boys didn’t help in this area, as I was generally the “tag along” who wasn’t as good at “boy things” as everyone else. It was commonly said – by girls, boys, especially my stepfather – that I was gay. I recall being labeled as such when I was 12 or 13, shortly after my castration fixations began. Oddly, I was never called out on this, beaten up, or suffered anything other than verbal abuse all through school. It was a running joke that if I was, then someone needed to help me find a boyfriend. My few attempts at having a girlfriend were met only by rejection, so I gave that up in 9th grade and was “just a friend”. I maintained only a handful of any friends at all, and when puberty finally hit full swing (with some help) I became almost xenophobic. I dated ONCE in high school, never went to functions or the prom, and later dated a much older woman I worked with – all with disastrous results. I never sought out a male companion, mainly out of the self-hatred and fear of being gay that was ingrained into me from a young age.

I now have a total of five boys (usually more, counting spares) in my life, none of them biological sons. I realize now, in watching them grow up, that their lives have been completely different than mine. So far, they all seem well-adjusted. But they do all the things that I can only remember watching other boys do. They have girlfriends. They play all sports, Scouts, marching band, they have brothers, and a LOT of male friends. They all have a stable home, and “too many” parents. In fact, most of the problems with budgeting their time involves the fact that there are too many men who want to spend time with them, in addition to what THEY want to do. That, and I confess that I spoil them rotten; they want for nothing material, and NOTHING emotional as far as I am concerned. I look at their lives so far, and I often find myself thinking, “Why couldn’t MY boyhood have turned out half this nice?”

This is a copy/paste repost of a thread lost in the recent Board crash.

It may be a little trick to tell who posted what.

I'll clean it up more as I get time.

P

Paolo thank you for reviving this thread. Thefraj started another good thread. It was your post that I thought was very powerful and I am glad it is back on the archive.

Thanks. You can thank Jesus for having a copy of it.

I'm also very pleased indeed that the first, original thread wasn't lost. Thank you, Jesus. I agree with tugon about being pleased that Paolo's powerful entry is reposted. My original comments in this the first of the fraj's threads on childhood and "Eunuch Emotional Signs" made points that were true and valid but I didn't feel at that time that I wanted to reveal just how much childhood mental abuse I faced from my father. In The Fraj's second recent thread I opened my heart a little more because I realise that one of the best ways to fight "hidden pain" is to bring it out into the open. I can sure see why some films sometimes break that emotional barrier and make me cry. The other day, on Ash Wednesday I heard Allegri's Misereri Mei live on the radio from Cambridge. This piece of music can make me very very emotional; it makes me cry. I used to take the treble soloist's part in it and I reached the top C with ease. I'll never be able to achieve that, of course now, but the music has so much emotional power; it is why it was composed for Lent, I guess.

As a child I disliked all "boyish" school activities and sports. Fortunately, it was never held against me by anyone - my voice didn't break till I was 15 - and that gave me a status, even at school, which protected me from any bullying, I guess. When I first started Senior School (11/12) I soon found a new friend whom I used to hug when walking along outdoor corridors at school. On only one ocassion was I challenged by a senior boy and I dismissed that. I do remember being fascinated by a full length nude poster of David Cassidy which somehow managed to remain hung up in the entrance to the

School Library; that had come from a girl's pop magazine and was intended for the appreciation of young girls and incidentally for certain young boys like me. After puberty, I knew what my left hand was for but I had so many years of sexual angst and fear from having a dysfunctional home life that the onset of impotence in my late 30's and becoming a Chemical Eunuch finally restored some peace and equilibrium to me. Maybe some would say that by excluding sex I have avoided my demons. Choices in life aren't always easy but you know when you've found peace.

I think eunuch/penectomy fantasy may stem from childhood feelings of inadequacy. I received many threats that "it" would be "cut off" if I told anyone about what went on between my 1st grade teacher and me. See, my female teacher would beat me (beyond spanking) and fondle my genitals. I guess you could call it the "reach-around." I only recently remembered, and I am 39.

I had little interest in actually dating until much later, having my first real kiss at 16, fooling around at 17, and losing my virginity at 19. Even while having sex with a man, I could not admit that I might be gay or bi. I wasn't able to reckon with that until I was 27, having my 1st bi-couple experience.

I only came out of the closet, mostly, in my 30's. I too am very sensitive to others moods and judgement. I cry easily, wear my heart on my sleeve, and continue to have a stuffed animal collection. My adult collection is small though. I used to get picked on for being a fag or wimp or nerd. I still think of myself as a nerd, because I feel socially awkward and have few friends.

I've even had girlfriend/wives threaten castration/penectomy. It is surprisingly common to say so, it would seem. My fantasies came back after waking up during vasectomy. I feared afterwards that I lost everything, like that man in Malaysia whose surgeon cut it off in a fit of rage. Turns out that all is OK, except for lingering pain.

Thanks for letting me share here. My modification fantasies are just that, fantasies. But those fantasies are powerful, and likely my 1st sexual fantasy. I still play them out today, and still have vivid dreams.

- Buddy