Well last night was a quiet night, as was Monday, although I went to the store Monday, and made a pot of succotash. I just love succotash, and have to have a pot of it every now and then. And since it’s good for you, why not? I did it to go with saffron rice made with caramelized onions this week for lunch. It turned out really good!

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I need to set the record straight on Michael E. He is not all take. He really helped me out with something I was having a really hard time with at one point, whether he knows it or not. I come from a background of sexual abuse. Although I felt as if I had moved past everything, I really hadn’t. At the time, the prevailing opinion was that child abuse victims grow up to be abusers themselves. Some do – about 30%. A higher percentage than the general populace, but by no means the majority, and by no means an inevitability, as it is many times presented. So I grew up thinking that at some point I would have to “fight off” urges to abuse a child. Since I never wanted to perpetuate what was done to me, I was horrified by the possibility that I had a horrible monster lurking within. I was terrified to be around children. I felt that with my background, all it would take would be an accusation, or even a suspicion, and I would be under the jail. Being gay didn’t help either. Since I was single though, and gay, not a lot of my friends had children, and I wasn’t around them very often. So I had just kind of walled them out of my life.

Then I met back up with Michael E, during one of our “on” periods when we were to be close again. At that time he was in a long-term relationship with a man who had two adorable little girls, Sandy and Brittany. They were very sweet girls. Sandy had Down’s syndrome, and for some reason, seemed to take to me. One night when we were at church, Sandy announced that she had to go to the bathroom, and she wanted me to take her. In the way of children, she was most insistent that I go, and not her dad. To stop a scene, I took her to the rest room, which was in the basement of the church, and very isolated. She was old enough that she didn’t need actual help with the deed (thank God), but too young to go by herself. I’m sure that if you could have seen my face, it would have been most comical to anyone but me. Sandy, seeming in retrospect to know that everything was fine, was of course totally un-phased. I steadfastly faced the other way while she got herself back together, made sure she washed her hands, and we went back upstairs. Then I realized. I had not had any desire to “do anything” to Sandy. There had been no struggle. I wasn’t a monster. I can’t describe what a relief it was.

Shortly after that, I did tell Michael E what my problem had been, and why I had acted the way I had. He never turned an eyelash; and he trusted me around the kids. I can’t tell you how grateful I was for that, and how much it meant to me. Brittany, Sandy, and I became fast friends. I put together a little Christmas party for the five of us that year, and made sure Sandy and Brittany had their own stemware to drink from, etc, just as the adults did. Brittany, the little girly girl even then, helped me set up for the party, and was every inch the little hostess. She also spent the night with me one weekend, and we had a great time watching "Pocahontas", eating pudding, staying up too late, and just generally spoiling her rotten.

But of course the best part was being free.

My sister too, was really good about it after my nephew came. She was always the first one to let me hold the baby, etc, even though he was a little boy. His dad didn’t like me being around him, because I’m gay (that’s another story), but Lisa never batted an eye. I have always been grateful for that.

Gradually, I worked through it, and hardly ever think about it now, except in gratitude. Michael E and my sister gave that gift to me. They trusted me when I wasn’t sure I could trust myself. I will never forget that.