Memories

Maybe it has been brought on by the fact that I am spending a lot of time lately thinking about the past, but so many memories, long buried have begun to surface.

Strangely, they are a random mix of good and bad, but the link between them is that they all occurred around the time that Alex was abusing me.  My mainstay, dancing, features a lot in these memories as do my parents.

I remember my Mom as she was back then – so strong, so sure of herself, so confident.  I so wish I could be like her.  And I wish that I could turn the clock back twenty years so that I could tell her.  She was the way that I aspire to be.  The day someone says to me that I am just like my Mother, I will know that I have really achieved something amazing. 

I remember that whenever someone was in trouble, my Mom could be counted on to help out.  Whether it was a work issue or a personal issue, she was there.  And she always seemed to be such a stable influence on whatever was happening.  I know that my brother and I were fortunate in that we always had her there to help us, if only I had appreciated it back then and confided in her. 

But back to my memories.  I also have some much darker ones that are haunting me of late.  HIM!  I think about what he did to me and the incident on the mat in his bedroom.  Just laying there waiting whilst he collected toilet paper to clean me up. 

One thing that has come back really clearly is my terror of falling pregnant.  I was far too young to realise that pregnancy was not a possibility as I had not yet reached that stage in my life. 

This fear had many aspects to it.  I did not know if what he was doing to me could result in my getting pregnant.  If I did fall pregnant, how would I explain it to my family and friends?  I know he did not use a condom – they were not exactly readily available back then.  Of course, I am certain he didn’t as I have the clear memory of him bringing toilet paper to me to clean myself. 

It was this fear that led me to start asking questions about the differences between men and women and the process of procreation.  Until that time, I had so wanted to be loved and craved approval, even from Alex.  Did he realise this and capitalise on it?

This is probably why this memory is so strong and the one that haunts me the most.  It is linked to the first time that I started to question what Alex was doing.  The time I realised that it was not right, nor was it normal.  But it was too late for me to do anything about it.  Or so I believed.  If I came forward at that point and told my parents what had been going on, I knew for a fact that I would be in so much trouble and my life would be over.