The Nudy Magazine In The Bathroom.
It was in my parents’ bathroom, so as a kid, I ignored it.
We had many magazines in the home.
I just thought that my parents liked to read while on the toilet.
Soon, when I was old enough to learn how to clean the bathroom.
It was one of my chores.
I went to clean mom and dad’s bathroom and picked up a magazine to clean under it.
I flipped it open and saw photos of naked women. You guessed it!
Playboy.
(Sidenote, when I was 31, Playboy hired me as a model)
In shock, I immediately closed it, thinking, “Why are my parents reading a magazine with naked women in it?”
Being so innocent, I knew nothing about the birds and the bees. I mean absolutely zero.
After a while, my stepdad started acting strange. In hindsight, he had been for a long time.
I thought that was just what Dads did.
Slowly it became clear that it was wrong.
Next, I started to develop.
One day step pulled my shirt in front of my stepbrothers and pinched my nipples.
He was laughing saying, “right now they are bumblebee bites, but pretty soon they will be wasp bites.
I begged and screamed for him to stop.
My younger stepbrothers just watched in fear.
I suddenly knew somehow, that my stepdad was reading those magazines.
He had beat us, kids, also. He was an ex-professional football player. He had serious issues.
At 16, I ran away from home. I just couldn’t take it for one more second.
I knew eventually I may snap. I had been working so I had a hidden wad of cash and an atlas.
When I ran away, some black dude raped me. I didn’t care one bit. It was done and over fast
My white and wealthy step-dad was beating and molesting me constantly.
The police caught me, I went home.

When I turned 18 two years later, I moved out.
I moved into my apartment 9 days after I turned 18, was moving day.
The photo on the left is of me and my mom in front of my first apartment.
I had just turned 18. My mom passed when I was 21.
I never used the word hate. I simply could not spit out the words.
Two months after my mom died of cancer, my stepdad remarried.
He married a redhead, I was also a redhead, His new wife had 10 kids.
I was scared for all of them.
At the wedding, my stepdad’s family confided in me that they thought my stepdad had been in love with me.

He did give me a diamond ring for my 18th birthday.
While I couldn’t say hate, I would say while he was alive, I didn’t want to share oxygen with him in this atmosphere.
Sadly, he had molested other kids.
Those victims did contact me for support.
Then he dies.
The world is safer.
After he died, I did want to get a gun and go to his grave, then shoot in the ground and say,
“FUCK YOU TOO!”
But I couldn’t. I HAD TRIED TO KILL MYSELF BY DRINKING ANTIFREEZE.
I failed. Why am I still alive?I
Maybe to tell this story.
Love you all. Thanks for reading.
