At the age of four, I knew what a penis looked like.
At the age of ten, I was convinced my uncle wanted me for sex.
At the age of twelve, my brother molested me. It was already passed my bedtime then.
At thirteen, I believed I was a toy. Soon after, I got my period.
Fourteen, I longed for nothing more than to not see my fifteenth birthday.
Fifteen, I became obsessed with...