My first relationship
that crossed the line into adult territory
was an abusive one.
I was young,
so very very young.
My heart breaks for that young teenaged girl.
And the way that her first intimate relationship
fu<ked up a piece inside of her
that she has forever tried to heal from.
My stomach is in knots as I write these thoughts
and my eyes fill with tears.
It's hard to
speak this truth.
Even though so many people at that time could see it,
I couldn't, not really.
And it wasn't really talked about,
and least not to my face.
I mean, I knew the rule of
"no other guys being allowed to speak to me"
in high school...
was wrong.
But being the quiet good girl that I was raised to be,
I did what I was told.
And I was horrifically embarrassed
when this rule was "broken"
which led to physical violence
or threats of physical violence
toward
some nice guy
(even a teacher assigned lab partner)
because he
actually spoke to me.
It didn't feel good
being a timid
voiceless
little
bird
in a cage.
In the 90's bubble of a world that I was living in
there was no ME Too or Self Empowerment movements.
And if there were movements such as that,
they were lost on me,
I was essentially a child.
I didn't know that I deserved better.
I didn't know that this treatment towards a girl,
was inappropriate.
That is wasn't "love".
But I knew it felt wrong.
But I don't know why I tolerated it?
I don't know why I stayed in it?
It's Still something that I'm working on
after all of these years.
But I try to cut myself some slack,
After living a life filled with shame.
I was young and naive.
I didn't know any different.
I had never been in a relationship before.
You may ask, what does this have to do with Father's Day?
A lot.
You'll see.
This is just the prelude of a story
and I will take you to the epilogue...
but just not in one day.
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