Things have been a bit emotionally difficult since Friday. Ironically, I woke up in a relatively good mood this morning. But now I’m feeling that darkness again. So, naturally, I decided to write.
My past has been bothering me since yesterday. On last Tuesday’s appointment with G I told her that I didn’t have many memories from before I was 9 years old. She found it odd and asked me whether I was ever abused in some form. I said no, because as far as I know, I was never abused.
But then yesterday I made a conscious effort to remember memories from before that age, and I was able to pinpoint a lot of memories since the age of 3. So, really, I do have a lot of memories, it’s just that I have to make a superhuman effort to remember them. But they’re there.
However, since I was on the “remembering memories” state of mind, I couldn’t help but start remembering things from later on in my life. Specifically, from when I was 16 and 17. And, specifically, having to do with my Ex. I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned it on here before, but my Ex was my high school teacher.
I started remembering certain sexual acts that happened at the school. For some reason, it wasn’t until yesterday I realized just how wrong that was. I can think back to at least four instances, although there were probably more. Don’t get me wrong, it was all consensual. I was, unfortunately, more than willing to do whatever he told me to do.
But there were specifically two moments that I feel ashamed of and purely disgusted by. The reason being that they made me feel absolutely objectified and taken advantage of. There’s many more moments like those, but I’ll only mention these two.
(I don’t know if this deserves a trigger warning, but I’ll put it here anyway just in case)
One of them happened when I was still at school. We were kissing and suddenly he unzipped his pants, took my hand, and put it “there”. I remember feeling like a deer in headlights, not knowing what to do. The second event took place much later, when I had already graduated high school. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say I was completely naked and he, completely clothed.
Over and over I ask myself: Did the simple fact that he was my teacher automatically make it abuse? I’ve never really come up with an answer, because at the time I remember feeling like the luckiest and most “in love” girl in the world. So, I feel like I’m being unfair to people who actually did experience abuse. I remember discussing this with M at some point, and saying that it didn’t feel like it was abuse. But I’m not so sure of that anymore.
I mean, I know I have a lot of years ahead of me to become a little wiser. But it’s only now that I realize that at the age everything started, 16 years-old, you don’t know squat about life. I felt like I was so “mature” at that age…but in reality, I was not.
So I keep thinking, how could a “grown man” who was in his thirtees when it started (and married!) decide to respond to the advances of a 16 year-old STUDENT, instead of nipping it at the bud?
And it makes me so angry, because he knew this all along. You know what his last words to me were?
“Now I know you can be trusted.”
Yes. That’s what he said. Trusted with what? Covering his ass? For not reporting him to authorities when I had the chance and proof? For the fact that he had his fair share of cake and ate it too? (Even after being with me he is still very much married, with a daughter).
It’s been about two and a half years since it all ended, but I’m still dealing with the effects of that “relationship”. I have zero confidence when it comes to men my age. I have no idea how to begin or have a “normal” relationship. Whenever I have to deal with a male, older professor I feel vulnerable and small. And it even happens with male patients. I always feel like men are looking at me in a sexual, objectified way.
I feel so triggered now. And sad.