I have been a stripper for a long time. Before memories of the incest resurfaced, I really enjoyed teasing men for a living. I would get drunk on power and I would make them repeat to me: "You're beautiful". I didn't know why it felt good, until I started remembering all of those times my father and my uncle told me I was ugly and good for nothing, but please men.
The incest hurt twice: once when it happened, the second time when I finally remembered it. I won't count the numerous times I unknowingly hurt myself, as a reenactment of hurts from the past.
I've decided my life can't be just about the incest. I am more than that. I am a human being with small but steady accomplishments. My life is an infinite playground, much like the universe.
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