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Because I was 5.
Because I was in kindergarten.
Because I was 6.
Because I was in first grade.
Because I was 7.
Because I was in second grade.
Because I was 8.
Because I was in third grade.
Because he was my older brother.
Because he moved out when he got kicked out of high school at 15 and it stopped.
Because I didn’t want to get in trouble.
Because I didn’t want to get anyone else in trouble.
Because it seemed my parents were doing their best with him, and he is the worst person I’ve ever known.
Because I wasn’t physically hurt, bruised or broken.
Because I wanted to protect my parents.
Because I wanted to protect my older sister.
Because I was embarrassed.
Because who would believe a young girl over a teenage boy?
Because I didn’t want to cause a scene.
Because I was too shy to talk most of the time anyway.
Because I was afraid of what might happen.
Because I couldn’t fathom going to the doctor for it, to be invaded again, by someone else I didn’t trust.
Because what would happen anyway?
Because I am strong, and could handle it myself.
Because I couldn’t understand the implications beyond just myself getting hurt by him.
Because I didn’t know he’d hurt others after me.
Because I thought my voice didn’t matter.
Because I didn’t understand how it would impact me later on.
Because I didn’t know it’d be my deepest darkest reason for not dancing
Because I didn’t know it’d be my deepest darkest reason for not drinking.
Because I didn’t know it’d be my deepest darkest reason for wanting to take such profound and sometimes annoyingly detailed care of myself and loved ones.
Because I didn’t know it’d be my deepest darkest reason for not doing anything out of control, even a little bit.
Because I didn’t understand how it would impact my relationships with others.
Because I didn’t understand how it would cause deep-rooted trust issues within my gut.
Because I thought I was doing the right thing.
Because I didn’t know it’d rob me of years of fun like everyone else was having.
Because I didn’t know it’d make me consider asexuality.
Because I didn’t know how.
Because I couldn’t fathom causing my mother to cry.
Because I didn’t want to upset anyone.
Because I was in third grade.
Because I was 8.
Because I was in second grade.
Because I was 7.
Because I was in first grade.
Because I was 6.
Because I was in kindergarten.
Because I was 5.
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