Let us start at the beginning

My name is John R. Calloway, but I prefer Diana Jay Crider. I was born October 1, 1975 to Linda and Richard Calloway.

I have memories of my time in day care before kindergarten. Memories of Kathryn’s daycare as an awkward youngster who always wanted to be the girl in all our role playing games. Always wanted to play with the dolls. The people in the daycare were super sweet and allowed me to be the child I was. Kindergarten, brought with it the mocking, the bullying and the name calling. Sissy was a big one at that time. My teacher at the time saw my mind, letting me learn at my own pace, which usually was far ahead of the others and once I was done she would let me take a nap to the end of the day and I would have to go back to the daycare. My mother hated that she let me nap.

Now, here is were it gets interesting. Well for you the audience, not me so much. First grade was absolutely miserable for me, my teacher at the time constantly singled me out everyday. It was so bad that one day I brought some snack cakes for the class and while she was teaching the boy behind me kept talking and I joined in the banter. However, I was the one caught. She punished me by not letting me have the very treat I brought in for the class.

This was also the time in which the school thought there was something wrong with me. I had taken a test to get in to the fast track program, at that time referred to as Head Start. Apparently my scores set of f some flags and I was sent to a psychologist. It was discovered then that I had a severe aversion to drugs and alcohol. First grade also brought with it my time as a latch key child. Almost everyday of my elementary and middle school days I would make it home to an empty house where my imagination was free to roam. I would conduct experiments with all the household products I could get my hands on. We had these red tip bushes by our house at one point, I mixed up all kinds of things from the kitchen and bathroom and poured it on one of them. The bush grew to over 15 feet tall. My parents referred to it as a fluke.

First grade was also when I discovered my fathers porn stash. I learned all about sex and its glory when I was six years old. Well PBS also played a role in that. I loved educational television back then; and I still do.

Second grade was a pivotal moment in my life for it was during that time when my best friends brother, raped me. My best friend and I were experimenting and playing around with one another during this time-to this day I believe we really had a deep love for one another. I remember the night like it was yesterday. My friend was sleeping in his bed and I was in the other twin bed next to the wall. I was sound asleep when I awoke to his brother putting his hand over my mouth and then hearing his voice ” relax it will only hurt for a minute” then it happened.

Third grade up until sixth grade becomes very fuzzy for me to remember. But I can remember that is was full of name calling, bullying, pushing, and being separated from the heard as a freak. to get me to assimilate in the heard better my parents got me involved in cub scouts. Me surrounded by boys, that was smart. My father also tried to get me into sports, again a fail. Cub scouts was fun; a lot of the other boys like one in particular, liked to experiment as well as I did.

Middle school brought with it puberty and my desire for a friend/companion. Sixth grade is where I choose to play the flute in band and where I finally got to pursue what I was in sync with. Another nail in the coffin of constant bullying. Everything I choose to do only served to separate me more and more from everyone else. I dated many girls during middle school only because I did not know any other way than being heterosexual. It was during my time in elementary school that I began going to a Baptist church, where I was informed that the feelings I had of being a girl in truth and liking boys was an abomination and a sentence of damnation.

I did everything I could to blend in. But that was, looking back, foolish. Because my true colors have always shown through the façade. You can not hide who you truly are; it always finds a way to the surface. By middle school I worked my way into the boy scouts earning badge after badge. Going on many camping trips. I continued to grow strong in the church. However, that was about to change. My friend at the time, the preachers son, and I were having a relationship. We spent so much time together. But when is father, the preacher, was caught in affair with the church secretary, he had to move away.

It was during this time that my experimentations with other boys grew. Word got out in Boy Scouts that I gave good blow jobs. But when the boys had their feel, they would run to their parents saying I made them do these things. But that was far from the truth. Every time was consensual. But because I was the freak it was acceptable to believe their children over the truth.  Through all this pain and upheaval I maintained my grades and excelled in school.

Then came High School. A horror show of deceit and betrayal. I honestly do not remember my freshman year. That time I had no friends and I do not even have a yearbook from that time. Part of me believes that I do not remember my freshman year, because that was when at the age of fifteen, it was that spring, that I decided to tell my parents about what happened to me. I remember it being brushed off as nothing and treated as if did not even happen. But the rest of my time in school was, for the most part nice. I had a best friend whom I met at the beginning of my sophomore year and a girlfriend. My best friend and I shortly after meeting experimented and it was transcendent. There was something there that I could not explain. For three years we developed this bond. We could know what the other was thinking and finish one another sentences. Some stuff came up our senior year and he moved in with I and my family to finish the year out. It was like a dream come true. We were together, literally, 24 hours a day seven days a week . We would go on double dates with our girlfriends then come home and have the wildest sex. He was the person  I lost my virginity to. My girlfriend at the time and someone I could have seen myself marrying knew about my sexual preferences. But she did not know about he and I.

For now This is a good start. Twenty years of memories and pain still  to share. I just have to get this all out of me, just in case what ever is medically wrong with me, kills me.


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