Okay, how about this:
My cousin molested me. I was maybe 4, maybe as old as 7. I don't frankly know. He was only 3 years older. The actions he required were not those of a child. While I didn’t realize it at the time, I acted out in ways classic to children who are being abused. (I’ll spare you the details.) As an adult, I no longer blame him, and I am no longer angry. But I used to be, because it was abuse, no matter how old he was. I now believe that he knew to ask and do the things he did due to his own mother’s abuse of him, but that does not change what happened to me.
I didn't talk about it. With anyone. But I knew it was wrong, and eventually was brave enough to tell him I wasn't going to do it anymore, and if he didn't leave me alone, I'd tell. By this time, I believe I was 8 years old, making him only 11. I knew what it was, what sex was, what it was all about. Had I been inclined, I could have passed on the abuse and would have understood what I was doing.
And don't for a minute believe I was his only victim. I was not. It starts somewhere, somehow. So yes, I believe children are capable of a lot of things.
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My heart knows me better than I know myself, so I'm gonna let it do all the talkin'.
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