As I sit here, trying to comprehend the overflowing insecurities, I feel compelled to write it out.
Write it out for the ones who are fighting to accept themselves and for the ones who intentionally or unintentionally damage someone else. What I am about to share is something that I have discussed only with my immediate family and the men who have been in my life. Over the years, I have realized that the reason why I often flinch in matters of intimacy and the reason why I used to unconsciously grab a pillow while talking to someone of the opposite sex and the reason why I have never loved my body, lies in my childhood. Although some of it does extend over to my adolescent years.
So, I have opened up about it; how I was abused when I was in 5th standard. It was a gathering in a hotel lobby and all the kids including me had ran upstairs to play a game of hide and seek. For the most part, I found it funny how a grown up person was chasing us and playing hide and seek with us. It wasn’t until his creepiness feared the crap out of us that we started to run away from him.
The hotchpotch of hide and seek and running race ended with me being pinned down by the drunkard with his hands groping my breasts so tightly that my tears muffled my pleas for help.
I went down crying to my dad and pointed to the upper floor. After the initial physical pain and trauma subsided, I didn’t cry over it. My parents knew that it was the first time something like that happened to me. Now, I have always been vocal about feminism, women oppression and abuse. But, never have I even given a hint to my family, let alone a public platform, that it was the first time when something like this hurt so much.
Even though they believed that, that hadn’t been the first time. For the longest time before that, I used to sit on his lap while he put his hand under my clothes and as I felt uncomfortable, he would make a joke of it. This is about 3rd standard. I mention ‘him’ without giving out his name or his relationship with me. He is someone whom my entire family loves. So, giving this out on a public platform would be equivalent to inviting the hell’s wrath upon me.
For a long time, he would hold me tightly as he moved his hand underneath and comment how soft it is. He would have another ‘accomplice’ with him too. A couple of years after this, he would still grope me when he got a chance. The sad part is I have no grudge against him.
My boyfriend always asks why I don’t hate him. What answer can I give?
Over the years I met him a few times and he does seem like a completely changed person. I sincerely hope he doesn’t replicate his past activities ever. But, what I am yet to fathom is how he could forget it all. Is he allowed to forget it as a silly adolescent activity when I shudder midway while being intimate? Is he allowed to forget it when I have felt dirty giving a hug to anyone, for years?
Is he allowed to forget it when he made me incapable to sit with a group of guys without feeling threatened?
I forgive him, I sincerely do. And heaven knows I want to forget it all too. All I want is a sincere apology. I deserve it. If you read it and I hope you do, all I need is a sorry from you, the one you mean. I truly hope though that you never father a daughter. You don’t deserve having a little girl looking up to you with eyes full of love and trust.