I was misled. I was manipulated under false pretenses. Promises were made and broken. I was devalued, dishonored, humiliated, physically and emotionally abused.
Good words, but they don't come close to describing the intensity of the trauma. I was a happy five year old. Snacking off the leftovers from the buffet. He offered to show me something in the study. She followed. He asked what my favorite item was on the desk. I told him Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. I showed him how they rode around on their horses and "tilted" at windmills. There should be a windmill on the desk, and it should be leaning. A five year old's interpretation of Cervantes.
She stands with her back against the wall, next to the French doors. As I complete my explanation of Don Quixote, it occurs to me that he was going to show me something. I turn to him and remind of his promise. "You said you were going to show me something." (If I hadn't reminded him, it wouldn't have happened.) He grabs me by the upper arms and puts me on the floor. I don't know what is happening. I take in a breath to scream, but he slaps his left hand over my mouth. She turns her back on me and looks out the French doors.
He pulls at my panties with his right hand. I feel the cold metal of the his belt buckle and the metal teeth of his zipper. There is pain. I am terrified.
I don't want to think about this any more. I can't breathe. I know it happened over 40 years ago, but the fear is tangible and fully present. I must escape from the memory at least for a while, before I can finish.
This is beautifully written. I am sorry you had to go through this. I was molested and know how life changing that was for me.
ReplyDeleteBless us all.