It All Starts So Innocently

There are so many different ways an abuser can groom a child. I can't speak to all of them, but I can share with you how my abuser groomed me.

Building trust is key and having their niece, who was the same age as me come to stay for the summer was the beginning of building that trust. It was a perfect opening for having me come over to their house. We got along great and I remember being somewhat in awe of her. She seemed so much more mature and worldly to me and I wanted to be just like her.

The neighbor's mobile home was pretty cool. At one end, there was a full bar. I remember we would sit at the bar and feel so grown up. There were books on how to make cocktails and the bar was stocked with a huge variety of alcohol, liqueurs, and mixes. One day I was asked if I would like to be the bartender and make drinks for the adults. I thought that was the coolest thing ever. He walked me through on how to make margaritas and then encouraged me to taste it, "just to see what it was like". I had tried wine and other things at home with my parents before, so this didn't seem wrong, but over time, the tastes eventually turned into an entire drink, sometimes more.

I was encouraged to invite others over to the house. Many of my friends, female and male, started coming over and this was the place to be. We could drink, smoke cigarettes, play loud music and just have a great time. It never occurred to me that the drinking was really wrong. Maybe it was the times, or I was just too naïve. The funny thing is, I was more concerned about my parents finding out I was smoking, rather than the drinking.

Alcohol is a very powerful tool. It completely breaks down our inhibitions and can make us extremely susceptible. I liked feeling like a grown up. I was praised for how well I made drinks and how well I handled my alcohol. For a little girl just entering junior high, feeling awkward about her appearance, drinking gave me the confidence I lacked at that time. This predator knew that and used that against me.

With alcohol in my system, this opened me up for the next stages of his grooming. It's crazy how one thing leads to the next.

Comments

Let the grooming begin

This past month has been quite the eye opener. Since my last post I have seen my new therapist twice. I like him. I think he was a little shocked when I gave him the short version of my crazy life, but it was also very helpful. I'm doing two group therapy sessions each week. One is for PTSD skills and the other is for Depression. Not gonna lie, I hate online classes of any kind. It's just weird because no one has their cameras on. Feels very impersonal. My therapist recommended that I concentrate my efforts on what is being taught and not so much on the environment. Good advice! Well enough of that, where did I leave off? Oh yeah, the neighbors moved away. They literally moved the entire mobile home out of the space and that was it, they were gone. It wasn't that long after that a new mobile home was moved into the space and a married couple moved in. They didn't have any children, but they were very friendly. The summer after they moved in, their niece came to visit.

Day 2 Is anybody out there?

By the way, did I mention I hate waiting? Didn’t hear back from anyone today. Seriously having an argument with myself about whether or not I should contact them tomorrow. I guess I’ll give them one more day, then I am contacting them. Honestly, I bet they’re really busy. I should have patience but anyone who knows me knows that’s not one of my strong suits. Have you figured out what’s going on yet? I keep debating on whether or not I should give you more details. I think what it comes down to is that I’m still procrastinating. For some reason I think it’ll be easier once I’ve gotten the phone call. OK, I’m going to give it one more day and no matter what, I’ll start sharing my story. Damn, this isn’t going to be easy.

You gotta start somewhere

So I did a thing today. It’s been a long time coming, but I know I’ll never mend if I keep going on as I have. God, it was so hard dialing the phone number. I literally made myself physically ill; my stomach was in knots, I kept having to use the restroom, and I had no appetite. But that wasn’t even the worst of it. The old feelings of anxiety we’re trying so hard to rise to the surface. I hate fucking anxiety! As soon as the person answered, I knew there was no going back; I had to move forward. Of course, after almost 15 minutes waiting on hold, I find out that I needed to send an email. I have to admit, I did consider ditching the whole idea, but I put my big girl panties on and I wrote the damn thing. Man, I really hated seeing it staring back at me in black and white, but I hit “send”. I got a response pretty quick. It was pretty cool that they recognized how hard it must have been for me to write the email and they assured me that they would forward my request to the right p

Slightly Frayed, In Need of Repair

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