Leap year always causes me to think about the abuse and my healing

I don't dwell on it, I am healed from the damage, and, he doesn't hold power over me anymore, yet, every four years, on this date, he does come to my mind.   The man who sexually abused me had a birthday on February 29th.

Many know that my childhood was one that experienced extreme poverty, lot's of moves, what I term "dad's of the week", and, many other chaotic times and scenarios along the way.    We had nothing short of a crazy childhood.  My siblings and I can tell stories that would cause you to weep tears of sorrow for any child who went through what we went through.

I met him one day when I was walking down the street in Parkland, Washington.   He was a highly intelligent man looking back at it all.  This was about 1980-81, a time when talking to strangers wasn't talked about much, or, because of my chaotic family life, we just didn't hear it.  Our home was one where people came and went frequently.   Family members, friends, and really, strangers were in and out of our family system regularly.

He asked me if I needed a ride and engaged me in conversation.   Right away he asked me if I wanted to earn some money doing yard work.  Me, being one who wanted to earn some money and was willing to work said yes. I didn't see him as someone I needed to call home and check in with before I went to his house. He drove a nice car, wasn't scary looking in anyway, and his approach was very smooth.

Right away I learned about him being recently retired from the Army and now working at a post office and selling real estate. Would I be interested in helping him clean up properties in addition to doing yard work at his house? He latched on to me saying I loved cars and almost right out of the gate let me drive his car even though I wasn't old enough to have a license.   He said if I wanted to earn even more money I could detail his car for him. He was very good with his sell on how he was a good and upstanding person in the community. He was even a deacon in his church. To all outsiders he was a pillar of strength in his circle of friends and family. I bought it all, hook, line, and sinker. To me, he was hope. Hope for a better way.

All of it was so new to me.....having an adult male who had it all and was willing to help me achieve the same. I don't share this much outside of this context, but, he is partly why I joined the Army myself. I started doing work around his house. First yard work and cleaning his car. He had a nice house too....very nice. Everything I was seeing was so promising and at a time in my life when I needed a strong male role model the most. To this point in my life male role models for me where either in and out of my life and not consistent, or, they were shitty to my mom and left us after they had abused my mom or abused my siblings.  My real father, my siblings real father, both were garbage in every sense of the word to my mom and to us. Again, my home life was terrible to say the least. The moves alone were mind boggling.....in Pierce County alone, during my childhood I could give you quite the tour of the many places we lived.

Back to him. My memory is pretty quick to remember the first times he touched me. It was weird, made me feel uncomfortable, and, for those that have been abused will know, in a really weird way made me feel wanted. It's like he knew all of this too. He explained it as we were just two people who cared about each other. I can't tell you how many times I told him I didn't want to do it and he was masterful in bringing me back around to it happening again and again. I have read a lot about abuser and their tactics and his were textbook 100% of the way. It turned into pay for play. He was skillful in how he transitioned to this.  He would still pay me to do yard work, clean his car, or work on houses, but, the money for sexual favors was much more than the pay for the other work. Funny how he worked that out.

This became a massive mind game. Massive. He was someone who would guide me in other areas of my life, showing concern and saying he wanted the best for me.  He taught me about money, encouraged me to stay in school, said I should try the military.  All the while refusing to stop his sexual advances even when I told him I didn't want to do it. It wasn't until I went to treatment drugs and alcohol that I told anyone about this. It was in my mid-twenties when I first told a soul of my secret.  I struggled for years with whether or not I was gay.  I struggled with not having told my first wife of this ongoing chaotic relationship that had started when I was a kid.  I struggled with how others would look at me if I told them.  Would they believe me?  Would they laugh at me?  Would they even care?

The good thing is I was able to get help for this craziness and see him for who he was. A predator. During the time I was involved with his nonsense there were other boys. I would show up at his house and see another boy there. He would always lie and play it off.....I had a knowing then, and for sure know now, there were many others.  Through counseling specifically for men of childhood sexual abuse I was able to see that even though he kept in contact with me while I was in the military it was only to keep his secret hidden.  It wasn't that he actually gave a shit about me, he was just scared to get caught.

Due to our states statute of limitations I was not able to have him criminally charged, but, I was able to hold him accountable civilly.  Some say that may not bring peace, but I have to tell you, to have him sign away some of his precious money that I know he loved was satisfying. I gave part of that money to my mom. My mom who suffered her own sexual abuse.  I spent that money on family and friends.....the ones who have always been there for me even after hearing my secret.  To have him be forced to face his demons and have documented what he did was satisfying.

I am over him, I have moved on, and I am good with it all. I write about this to give others who have experienced the same the courage to step out and speak loudly.   My abuser was your typical and textbook abuser who was masterful in grooming me and others. I write my story for parents to ensure they know who their boys are spending time with.  I believe, even with all we know in the year 2020, the focused is not enough on this area. I also believe we still have a tendency to doubt men when they share their stories. That has to stop.

I have educated myself, received counseling for the damage, and am a positive male role model for my son, grandsons, and boys in my community.  I will do all I can to help boys have a strong and positive male role model in their lives. There are many amazing men out there. We need to highlight them and get them involved in our communities.

Comments

  1. Every now and again, I wonder if he is still alive. I’m glad you have gotten the help you need to move past this and grow. I’m also happy to read that in some way he has paid for what he has done to you

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular Posts