My Most Vulnerable Moments by Ricky

Vulnerability affects every person at several points in their lives. The moment a person is conceived, they are vulnerable to the actions and reactions of the mother’s body and her choices (to abort or not, what food to ingest, drink alcohol or not, take illegal drugs or not, level of activity; the quality of the environment the mother lives in, and etc.). As vulnerable a person is while in utero, the growing fetus is protected by the mother’s body. It is after a successful birth that the extended period of greatest vulnerability begins as a baby is totally helpless and dependent upon others to sustain its life; and so it was for me as well.

All children grow and as they do, vulnerability changes in both degree of risk and impact of the consequences. People learn as they grow and a child must process and internalize a massive amount of information as their senses provide the input. Most children are very successful in this endeavor but some get sidetracked along the way. I got derailed somewhat because I did not learn the consequences of “disobedience” quickly enough and received many corrective applications of father’s hand or belt to my bottom. Therefore, I was constantly afraid of him because I never connected the discipline to my actions. Naturally, I was also mentally vulnerable as I learned that my mother was a “snitch” by telling all of my misdeeds to him so he could apply the corrective can of “whup ass” to my butt. In other words, I could not trust her and I feared my father. I tried to please both of them but never quite understood that I must follow their instruction and not my own desires. [What two through five-year old child ever does?]

While living on my grandparent's farm, I was not as mentally vulnerable as when living with my parents, but my vulnerability to physical harm skyrocketed but not from my grandparents. There were many ways to become seriously injured or even to die on the farm. Falling off the tractor while riding with my grandfather and being run over, or falling into the maws of the bailer, discus, harrow, or plow are but a few ways. Other ways included being kicked by a cow, falling out of the hayloft, or having hay bales fall on me.

Mental vulnerability on the farm consisted mostly of feeling abandoned by my parents and not receiving the kind of outward signs of love from my grandparents like those my own parents would give (hugs, kisses, and other such signs of affection). Those feelings followed me back to California when I finally was able to rejoin my “new” family (mother had remarried and I now had an older step-brother and twin half-brother and sister). I became the proverbial “middle child” and spent nearly nine years without much of a social life due to babysitting requirements. Thus, I acquired personality “issues” that have followed and negatively influenced me throughout the rest of my life to date.

My sexual activities made me extremely vulnerable. When I finally quit lying to myself and admitted to myself (what others already “new”) that I am gay, I became the most vulnerable. I managed to retain the psychological maturity and mentality of when I was twelve years old even though I grew up physically. Due to my suppressed sexual orientation, when I “came out” to myself and other men, my age, I wanted to experience gay sex in quantity. Thus, I am currently vulnerable to the advances of men I would not normally want to have as sex partners and with whom I have not established some type of personal or social or friendship relationship. I’m also especially vulnerable (as a 12 year old) to “fall in love with” someone who is simply using me to gratify himself and ultimately wounding me emotionally. (All gay men are vulnerable to this, so I am no different than anyone else on this issue.)

I know I am at risk but I try to be careful. That’s one of the minor reasons I come to The Center to deal with my issues. Therefore, my most vulnerable period in my life is currently right now.

© 24 November 2010

About the Author

I was born in June of 1948 in Los Angeles, living first in Lawndale and then in Redondo Beach. Just prior to turning 8 years old in 1956, I began living with my grandparents on their farm in Isanti County, Minnesota for two years during which time my parents divorced.

When united with my mother and stepfather two years later in 1958, I lived first at Emerald Bay and then at South Lake Tahoe, California, graduating from South Tahoe High School in 1966. After three tours of duty with the Air Force, I moved to Denver, Colorado where I lived with my wife and four children until her passing away from complications of breast cancer four days after the 9-11 terrorist attack.

I came out as a gay man in the summer of 2010. I find writing these memories to be therapeutic.

My story blog is TheTahoeBoy.Blogspot.com.