in the beginning, i was your average girl. happy, healthy, even somewhat holy. i didn’t know what i was missing out on in life, per se, but i knew i wasn’t involved in much of what most people my age did. i didn’t smoke (cigarettes or marijuana), i didn’t drink (wasn’t legal, but what did my peers seem to care, let alone most of the world?), i didn’t make out with random guys, and i didn’t have sex. while i constantly was getting involved in all sorts of fun things, they were always unique, never a very common sort of activity for my peers. i mean, who goes roaming around a nearby college campus with her boyfriend and mom, in order to check out an art exhibit together, and has an amazing time? yes, it’s great, but it isn’t exactly normal.
so, i was average white bread, but i wasn’t exactly normal. perhaps i was like the cuff of the loaf, instead of a regular slice. something like that.
in the beginning, i was happy, but i didn’t know what normal was, and i wanted to know why everyone else seemed to love it so much.
in short, i was curious. and, as quite nearly was the case for me, curiosity killed the cat.
i got involved in dance lessons when i was about 11 or 12 years old. my dad had been taking partner dance lessons, and his teachers wanted to start a class for kids. so, i was one of their first kids. i didn’t really like the husband of the couple too much from the start, as he was somewhat degrading toward me and my skills of comprehension (i.e. he didn’t believe me when i said that i had understood something, and somewhat snottily told me to prove it. when i did, he didn’t really acknowledge that i had done anything good or that he had been unjust toward me – he just moved on in the lesson.), but i thought he was handsome, and so apparently let it slide.
ten-ish years later, this same man, whom i had accepted because he was in a position of “teacher” and “adult” when i met him, in addition to the fact that i had initially found him to be handsome, became to me what felt like the worst thing in my life. married and with kids, he decided, for whatever reason, that a girl over 20 years his junior was a perfect option for his newest mistress. i, having been so curious about what all these normal people did for fun and why they found it so amazing (plus experiencing a serious case of fomo (fear of missing out)), allowed myself to ignore my morals (in terms of my actions, anyway), simply due to my own curiosity and my utter trust and reliance on this man who had been ‘somewhat like family’ to me since i was a little girl, and who had introduced me to one of my favorite things in life: partner dancing.
no, i wasn’t technically underage. yes, it was sexual abuse. no, i wasn’t fully aware of what was going on. yes, i wanted to know all about the sex and drinking life that seemed to be so crucial in the lives of my peers. yes, i knew it had no integrity and went against my morals. yes, i trusted him. yes, i knew it was stupid beyond reason. no, that didn’t stop me from wanting to be wanted, or from accepting the only person who offered anything similar to being wanted.
these are my tales from that eye-opening, dreadful part of my life.