Tiffany: “Oh that don’t work.”Friend: “How do you know it don’t work?”Tiffany: “ ’Cause I did that shit when I was thirteen
years old.”Friend: “What do you mean, you did that when you
was thirteen? I thought you didn’t lose your virginity
until you was like sixteen, seventeen?”Tiffany: “I didn’t, but this was diĉerent. ͳis old man
that was in my foster home, he would suck on my
titties every day before I’d go to school, and it didn’t
do nothing. They didn’t grow or nothing. They still the
same size.”Friend: “Bitch, you was molested?”Tiffany: “Wait, what?”I had no idea I was molested. In my mind, “molested”
meant somebody hurt you in some kind of way. Like, they
took something from you that you didn’t want to give. And
what that old man did never hurt. It didn’t necessarily feel
good, either, it was just whatever. And he never tried
nothing else with me, not even once. It was just like—in my
mind—he was helping me out.
Look, obviously I can see now that this was messed up
and absolutely was molestation. But at the time, I had no