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| Perhaps because of my childhood sexual
experiences, I became quite sexually precocious in my early teens. Although
I experimented a great deal sexually, I never took advantage of anyone.
Sensitized early to abusive, coercive behavior, I was always careful the
situation, the girl, and the sex were safe. By age 16, I was quite mature
for my age and began dating women in their middle to late 20´s. I
escorted these women to several of the Palm Springs night clubs frequented
by Hollywood celebrities and Palm Springs socialites. Soon, I became a regular,
invited to private parties held at the clubs after hours. These parties
were frequently little more than orgies, and while I became friends with
a lot of the homosexual and bi-sexual entertainers who attended them, I
knew I was most definitely heterosexual.
My early sexual experiences with males were negative experiences for me. Not because they had been homosexual experiences, for children often explore within their own genders, but because I had been manipulated, used, and my protests ignored. Such experiences constitute sexual abuse. The shame, anger, guilt, and sense of betrayal, I harbored from those experiences stayed with me for many years and affected me in many ways. Some of those ways were quite convoluted.
A curious and adventurous boy, I was nicknamed "Bad Billy" by a family member. One day, I took a rattlesnake (live, but contained in a one gallon glass jar) on the school bus for my biology teacher, Mr. Batley, who´d asked for "interesting specimens" for class. I proudly showed it to Mr. Batley, who was also the school bus driver, by shoving the jar close to his face. Screaming, he slammed on the brakes, which threw me off balance and caused me to drop the jar, which shattered as it hit the floor. Instantly, girls were standing on the seats and screaming. Boys were shouting and whooping down the aisles. I was chasing after one scared rattlesnake slithering under the seats. After I finally caught it (you grab a rattler quickly behind the head to catch it), Mr. Batley threw me off the bus and left me standing there, holding my rattler. I had to walk to school. I left the rattler behind. He was happy to stay.
After that, everyone began calling me "Bad Billy".
The funny thing was, I secretly believed the moniker was given me because
I´d been sexually molested. Even though I hadn´t told anyone,
I felt everyone somehow knew anyway and the name was their way of letting
me know they knew. Not an uncommon feeling in sexual abuse survivors.
"Bad Billy" began to feel, deep inside, he really was bad.
I chose not to practice psychology. The licensing methods
of the governing board were restrictive and controlling. They wanted to
tell me how I could and could not work with people and wanted me to fill
out endless paper work for the privilege of controlling me. (In my opinion,
the medical field ought to have taken a look at THAT situation and stopped
it right there. We´d be a lot better off today, both patients and
doctors.) Besides, I´d already discovered that clinical hypnosis
was the most powerful tool available for guiding clients into healing
states. So I opened a practice as a clinical hypnotherapist. As word spread
of the powerful change and healing being demonstrated through my work,
I began being asked to teach other professionals, including medical doctors
and psychologists, my "technique".
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All material © by Pamela Chilton 2001