Chapter 1: Secrets of My Childhood

Navigating the complexities of a queer identity in rural Pennsylvania, I quickly learned the art of keeping secrets. The environment I was raised in was steeped in intolerance and ignorance, often leading to hostility towards individuals like me. I stayed quiet, trying to remain unnoticed and safe, while secretly yearning for a life where I could express my true self without fear. However, my internal struggles were compounded by an additional conflict happening right under my roof.

Rather than a single moment of revelation, my understanding of my parents' lifestyle unfolded gradually, pieced together through subtle hints I picked up over the years. As a child, I lacked a clear grasp of relationships and intimacy; terms like monogamy were foreign to me. In our Catholic household, sex was a taboo subject, and I was taught to guard my body fiercely against potential harm.

This conflicted sharply with the reality of my home life.

We often found ourselves shipped off to various caregivers during "adult-only parties." If we tried to reach out to our parents, our pleas would go unanswered until the following day. Sickness was met with over-the-counter medications instead of care. And upon our return, the state of our home was always a stark contrast to the environment we were used to, with signs of late-night revelry and neglect evident in the chaos.

Hushed conversations and odd references to "gasoline shots" and nudity were common, but my young mind simply accepted this as the norm. I learned to giggle it off until the next occasion when we were sent away.

My mother had no qualms about nudity, often walking around the house without clothes. As I entered puberty, I became hyper-aware of my body, facing scorn for not dressing appropriately around her friends, who often made me uncomfortable. This sparked confusion and anger within me; how could my mother embrace her nudity while I felt compelled to hide?

I began to develop an aversion to my own body and sexuality, opting for baggy clothing and avoiding situations where I might be exposed.

As I entered middle school, I began to piece together the reality of my parents' double life. Children are astute observers, constantly absorbing information and trying to make sense of their surroundings. I began to notice strange interactions and inappropriate behavior from my parents' friends, realizing that what I experienced at home was anything but typical.

Ultimately, it became clear: my parents were swingers. The so-called "friends" we hosted for barbecues and river outings were actually their sexual partners. The same individuals who spewed hateful rhetoric were also involved with my parents.

This revelation ignited a fury within me that I had never known. The hypocrisy was infuriating, and my brother and I often confronted our parents, only to be dismissed and told we were imagining things.

We sought solace in secret discussions, grappling with the reality of non-monogamy, a concept we had no framework to understand. Our only knowledge of it came from sensationalized documentaries about polygamist cults. We were left confused and frightened, exposed to ideas and situations far beyond our comprehension.

Eventually, our basement playroom transformed into a bar, filled with alcohol and adorned with risqué artwork. Childhood memories gave way to crude imagery, further alienating me from my peers and making sleepovers a rarity.

By high school, the repercussions of my parents' lifestyle seeped into my daily life. Jokes about our parents' dating lives circulated, and I felt a growing resentment toward my mother, especially after my father's untimely passing. She quickly moved in one of her partners, someone we had previously expressed concerns about.

When she finally confessed the truth, it felt more like a self-defense mechanism than an admission of guilt. She justified her actions by claiming they were in love, as if that somehow excused the breach of trust.

Looking back, I recognize that my anger stemmed from confusion and a deep-seated feeling that my boundaries had been disregarded. I struggled with the idea of love coexisting with infidelity, a concept that still challenges my understanding of relationships.

These feelings of resentment linger. I still grapple with the over-sexualized environment my parents fostered, which contradicted the values they preached. The legacy of their lifestyle has left scars, shaping my perception of intimacy and trust.

I was raised in a home where sex was both a punchline and a forbidden topic. I received a purity ring as a gift, yet discussions about safe sex were scant. By the time I reached college, I was seeking birth control in secret, too ashamed to bring partners home for fear of judgment.

As I approach my thirties, I mourn the childhood that could have been. Reflecting on my upbringing fills me with sadness, as I consider the impact of my parents' choices on my formative years. I often wonder how different my life might have been with open, honest discussions about sexuality rather than fear and confusion.

This video features Mikhaila Peterson discussing the complexities of relationships and societal norms, shedding light on various perspectives that resonate with the themes of growing up in non-traditional households.

In this video, a candid exploration of the dynamics within a marriage highlights the challenges and realities of intimacy, paralleling the experiences outlined in the narrative.