As far back as I can remember, I worked...at first, at about age 12, I babysat. Quite a bit, too. We lived in what was sort of a summer 'resort town', and if we put an ad in the little newspaper, we could usually get jobs with 'out of towners', or 'fudgies', as we called them...watching their kids, while they were vacationing. (actually, before that, our family worked at a friend's cherry orchard, just to help out, but I'd really like to forget about that) I kept my earnings in a jar and counted it often. After that, when I was 15 & 16, I worked at a local ice cream shop in the summer, earning $1.00 an hour. But, it was 1974, and $1.00 was perfectly okay. It helped out with school clothes, gas station candy, and whatever the new hit record was.
In the spring of 1975, I thought maybe I'd broaden my horizons, and try to get a job that paid a little more. It was going into the summer before I was a senior in high school, and although I was content enough to use one of the family cars to get to and from my job, and to drive it to school on a lot of days, I felt like I was responsible enough, and ready to have one of my own, if I could work all year round. The ice cream shop would close in the fall, and I'd have to find a different job then anyway, if I wanted to buy a car.
So the next stop over was a hardware store. They had a little of everything, like many places did back then.
One side was clothing, baby items, shoes, yarn, things like that. Since that was before there was a Walmart or Kmart in almost every town, many places carried almost anything people needed, whether it was basketball shoes or school supplies.
The other side of the store had hardware, toys and glassware, meaning they had a little of everything there, including something you could buy as a wedding gift or for a birthday party. And of course, sink and tub faucets, toilet seats, nuts and bolts...they made keys, too, and did small engine repair.
So, I stopped in there one day in the late spring, hoping maybe they'd be hiring for the summer, and I talked to the owner, who had by then, owned the store for many years. He and his wife and family lived upstairs, and I knew his wife also worked in the store, as I'd been in that store a thousand times...at least. I knew his kids, too, the oldest daughter was about 3 years younger than me. Nice family.
But, he said to let him think about it a little and that I should check back in a week or so. That was fine with me. I was glad he was at least thinking about it.
I went back in about a week, and the owner met me outside, and leaned into the passenger window of my dad's car that I was driving and said that he thought it would work out good, and that I could start on the following Saturday. Since school wasn't out for the summer yet, I was surprised that I could start before summer, but I was glad about it. And, $1.75 an hour. Cool.
But, what I didn't know is how that job would change me. I'm starting to get a little nervous, so I'll be back later to continue.
Friday, February 28, 2014
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Get To The Point Already...
As I think about the experiences I am going to share, I wonder if I should just leave it alone. I mean, I have not talked about it (much...my sister did know a little bit of it, but as far as I know, she took it to her grave. Sisters are like that.) for all these years, so why now? It just feels right to me now. That's why.
For many years, while I was busy raising a family, I pushed it far away, out of mind, and really didn't think it would bother me for a lifetime. I was wrong. But now that I'm much older, it really 'chaps my ass' that someone much older than me, who was more of an authority figure, could hurt me and take so much away from me at an age where I couldn't really do much to protect myself. And I hate that I was all alone in it. It sickens me that I could have been that vulnerable. But I'm not afraid of people finding out now. Well, that's not entirely true. I don't want to hurt people, so I am not using names. (much as I'd love to) but I'm not in a position to be hurt by it any more, either. I already was, and now I'm just realizing that I've allowed this person to take away my joy. I've allowed him to basically be present in so many aspects of my life, that I am mad at myself.
I'm putting an end to it now.
I will say that, as I eventually continue, I'm not going to get graphic, and I'm not going to apologize for that. I know what happened, and just getting it out into the open is enough.
People say that everybody has things hidden away that they're not proud of. That is probably safe to say. I don't know if everybody obsesses like I did, or if they just get over it or what. I know plenty of people who have done things that they wish they hadn't, but it doesn't make me think less of them, at all. I guess if anything, it makes me admire them for having been able to deal with it (if they have) and for having allowed themselves to move on. Granted, I don't know anyone who's committed murder, or anything like that, you know, something for which they should pay a high price, but as for problems in life, whether they caused them themselves, or if they'd been wronged, I don't judge my friends on that kind of thing, and I have never held anything against them.
I know that millions of people have encountered a situation in their lives just like I did. Even worse than I did. Maybe even people who lived in the same town as me, and for all I know, maybe by the same man. I can't speak for them, or how other people move on from this, because I really don't know. What I do know is that we can't let these things hold us captive. I lived that way practically my whole life, and if I knew then what I know now, this asshole would have gone to jail, and I might have been able to allow myself to make some better judgement calls throughout my life.
So, I don't know why I have beat myself up for all these years. I think it goes back, at least in part, to the kind of environment that I was lucky enough to grow up in. Small town and all...where image means everything.
I don't really know where to start...and no, I'm not procrastinating...I just feel like once I start, there will be some jumping ahead and jumping back. I will try to tie it in, if I have to do that, but as I remember time frames, and it reminds me of something relevant, then I will need to recall it at that point.
For many years, while I was busy raising a family, I pushed it far away, out of mind, and really didn't think it would bother me for a lifetime. I was wrong. But now that I'm much older, it really 'chaps my ass' that someone much older than me, who was more of an authority figure, could hurt me and take so much away from me at an age where I couldn't really do much to protect myself. And I hate that I was all alone in it. It sickens me that I could have been that vulnerable. But I'm not afraid of people finding out now. Well, that's not entirely true. I don't want to hurt people, so I am not using names. (much as I'd love to) but I'm not in a position to be hurt by it any more, either. I already was, and now I'm just realizing that I've allowed this person to take away my joy. I've allowed him to basically be present in so many aspects of my life, that I am mad at myself.
I'm putting an end to it now.
I will say that, as I eventually continue, I'm not going to get graphic, and I'm not going to apologize for that. I know what happened, and just getting it out into the open is enough.
People say that everybody has things hidden away that they're not proud of. That is probably safe to say. I don't know if everybody obsesses like I did, or if they just get over it or what. I know plenty of people who have done things that they wish they hadn't, but it doesn't make me think less of them, at all. I guess if anything, it makes me admire them for having been able to deal with it (if they have) and for having allowed themselves to move on. Granted, I don't know anyone who's committed murder, or anything like that, you know, something for which they should pay a high price, but as for problems in life, whether they caused them themselves, or if they'd been wronged, I don't judge my friends on that kind of thing, and I have never held anything against them.
I know that millions of people have encountered a situation in their lives just like I did. Even worse than I did. Maybe even people who lived in the same town as me, and for all I know, maybe by the same man. I can't speak for them, or how other people move on from this, because I really don't know. What I do know is that we can't let these things hold us captive. I lived that way practically my whole life, and if I knew then what I know now, this asshole would have gone to jail, and I might have been able to allow myself to make some better judgement calls throughout my life.
So, I don't know why I have beat myself up for all these years. I think it goes back, at least in part, to the kind of environment that I was lucky enough to grow up in. Small town and all...where image means everything.
I don't really know where to start...and no, I'm not procrastinating...I just feel like once I start, there will be some jumping ahead and jumping back. I will try to tie it in, if I have to do that, but as I remember time frames, and it reminds me of something relevant, then I will need to recall it at that point.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
A Little Background
Picture a beautiful small all-American town. More of a village, really. Imagine light breezes blowing off of the gorgeous little lake that sort of surrounded the town. Everybody knew just about everybody. But did they?
Everyone always felt pretty safe. I don't think there's really ever been any crime in that whole area, even now. Back then, maybe a little dope, but nobody ever hurt anybody else. Most people, especially in the 70s, kept that kind of thing to themselves. You knew who did, and who didn't. So, who you hung around with pretty much told your story. No one cared, but it just sort of told where you stood on the 'dope' issue. But, again...it didn't matter if you did or if you didn't, and nobody pressured anyone else, either way. Everybody liked everybody, no matter who they were or where they came from. It was the 70s.
I remember my sister going to spend the night at a friend's house in town. (we didn't actually live IN town) When she'd come home, she'd tell me how she and her friend sneaked out of the house and took one of the cars from the used car lot that her girlfriend's dad owned. Just for a joyride. I guess they must have been 16, but now that I think about it, not necessarily. THAT was probably the biggest kind of trouble anybody would get into, but they never got caught, so they didn't get into any trouble.
Every kid's parents knew everybody else's kid, and it was okay for them to tell a kid to go home, if he thought he or she should go home. Kids respected other kids' parents, and if someone even gave a 'look' (but nobody hardly did) to someone's child, that child would pay attention. We could pretty much trust all of our friends' parents to give us direction, if we needed it. All of our moms and dads knew our friend's moms and dads. Many of THEM went to school together.
And, if a kid was out raising some kind of hell, or got into any trouble, rest assured his parents would know about it before he ever got home. And that included us.
It was a great place to grow up. It was safe. We were somewhat sheltered from bad things. But, we were also a little trusting and naive. We just really didn't know there were people out there who could hurt us. Most of us didn't even get more than 2 television stations, and neither of them were very clear. But, at that time, it didn't matter. There were no electronics to take the attention off of growing up 'right'. People grew up looking others in he eye and could have a conversation, whether they were 2 years old or 80.
Everybody, for the most part, liked everybody. I don't think there was a whole lot of backstabbing or jealously, or anything like that. There were sort of 'clicks' of kids at school, but it didn't mean they ever picked on anybody else. Nobody got bullied. There were jocks, cheerleaders, nerds, 'princesses', and even a few creepy people, but everybody was, for the most part, pretty accepting of everybody else. Everybody always spoke to everybody, at the very least, even if they were clearly not part of their crowd. Although I never really felt like I fit in anywhere, I never felt like because I kept my nose squeaky clean (mostly due to my dad being a little more strict than most of my friend's dads) that I was looked down upon by the 'partiers'. Nobody was.
Like I mentioned, I never really 'fit in' anyplace, either. I never went to parties, never just hung out with anybody, and I'm not sure if it's because people knew my dad was kind of strict, or if they just didn't want to include me. But, I never really belonged anywhere, so maybe that has something to do with why I got caught in the trap that I did...which I WILL get to...I'm getting there.
Most kids back then used their dad's car to get around to events or whatever they might need it for, at least until they've had one or two winters under their belt. Learning to drive in a northern climate is crucial, I think. And, I only put my dad's car in the ditch once or twice during that whole time. But, most kids would work enough to eventually buy their own wheels, at least by the time they were a senior in high school, me included.
Growing up in small town America was pretty normal. Mom and Dad both worked, kids went to school and all of us did okay. We took family vacations, we did things together on Sundays, and we always supported the other siblings' events at school whether it was sports related or drama, or whatever it was. The whole family would always go and take an interest, and we all had that kind of support.
That being said, and I am not finding fault with anyone for this, it's just the way it was...I never felt like I could 'talk' to my parents back then. Not about anything of importance. They were caught up in raising all the kids, not just one, and nobody ever talked about personal things, or problems.
We were not a family who ever said the words, 'Love ya'...like everybody does now. (I'm still not comfortable in saying it to people just to say it. I have my friends and family members who I dearly love, but beyond that, I don't like to say things I don't really mean. And, I have noticed that people who barely know each other sometimes say it to each other...I don't like it) But we all just knew. Dad was pretty strict, and none of his kids ever got too far out of line. He was always one step ahead of each of us...or at least he thought he was. I guess if we did anything so outlandish that we'd get caught...well, as far as I know, none of us ever did. I was grounded a lot, though, because 'I looked guilty'...(oh, yeah, way to 'parent') I LOOKED guilty?!? What the...sorry, but that's just what I look like. It's just the way my face goes. (my husband tells me that, even after all these years, when I walk into a room, he cannot read me by the look on my face. Maybe there's a reason for that)
Anyway, this is significant for a later post.
Everyone always felt pretty safe. I don't think there's really ever been any crime in that whole area, even now. Back then, maybe a little dope, but nobody ever hurt anybody else. Most people, especially in the 70s, kept that kind of thing to themselves. You knew who did, and who didn't. So, who you hung around with pretty much told your story. No one cared, but it just sort of told where you stood on the 'dope' issue. But, again...it didn't matter if you did or if you didn't, and nobody pressured anyone else, either way. Everybody liked everybody, no matter who they were or where they came from. It was the 70s.
I remember my sister going to spend the night at a friend's house in town. (we didn't actually live IN town) When she'd come home, she'd tell me how she and her friend sneaked out of the house and took one of the cars from the used car lot that her girlfriend's dad owned. Just for a joyride. I guess they must have been 16, but now that I think about it, not necessarily. THAT was probably the biggest kind of trouble anybody would get into, but they never got caught, so they didn't get into any trouble.
Every kid's parents knew everybody else's kid, and it was okay for them to tell a kid to go home, if he thought he or she should go home. Kids respected other kids' parents, and if someone even gave a 'look' (but nobody hardly did) to someone's child, that child would pay attention. We could pretty much trust all of our friends' parents to give us direction, if we needed it. All of our moms and dads knew our friend's moms and dads. Many of THEM went to school together.
And, if a kid was out raising some kind of hell, or got into any trouble, rest assured his parents would know about it before he ever got home. And that included us.
It was a great place to grow up. It was safe. We were somewhat sheltered from bad things. But, we were also a little trusting and naive. We just really didn't know there were people out there who could hurt us. Most of us didn't even get more than 2 television stations, and neither of them were very clear. But, at that time, it didn't matter. There were no electronics to take the attention off of growing up 'right'. People grew up looking others in he eye and could have a conversation, whether they were 2 years old or 80.
Everybody, for the most part, liked everybody. I don't think there was a whole lot of backstabbing or jealously, or anything like that. There were sort of 'clicks' of kids at school, but it didn't mean they ever picked on anybody else. Nobody got bullied. There were jocks, cheerleaders, nerds, 'princesses', and even a few creepy people, but everybody was, for the most part, pretty accepting of everybody else. Everybody always spoke to everybody, at the very least, even if they were clearly not part of their crowd. Although I never really felt like I fit in anywhere, I never felt like because I kept my nose squeaky clean (mostly due to my dad being a little more strict than most of my friend's dads) that I was looked down upon by the 'partiers'. Nobody was.
Like I mentioned, I never really 'fit in' anyplace, either. I never went to parties, never just hung out with anybody, and I'm not sure if it's because people knew my dad was kind of strict, or if they just didn't want to include me. But, I never really belonged anywhere, so maybe that has something to do with why I got caught in the trap that I did...which I WILL get to...I'm getting there.
Most kids back then used their dad's car to get around to events or whatever they might need it for, at least until they've had one or two winters under their belt. Learning to drive in a northern climate is crucial, I think. And, I only put my dad's car in the ditch once or twice during that whole time. But, most kids would work enough to eventually buy their own wheels, at least by the time they were a senior in high school, me included.
Growing up in small town America was pretty normal. Mom and Dad both worked, kids went to school and all of us did okay. We took family vacations, we did things together on Sundays, and we always supported the other siblings' events at school whether it was sports related or drama, or whatever it was. The whole family would always go and take an interest, and we all had that kind of support.
That being said, and I am not finding fault with anyone for this, it's just the way it was...I never felt like I could 'talk' to my parents back then. Not about anything of importance. They were caught up in raising all the kids, not just one, and nobody ever talked about personal things, or problems.
We were not a family who ever said the words, 'Love ya'...like everybody does now. (I'm still not comfortable in saying it to people just to say it. I have my friends and family members who I dearly love, but beyond that, I don't like to say things I don't really mean. And, I have noticed that people who barely know each other sometimes say it to each other...I don't like it) But we all just knew. Dad was pretty strict, and none of his kids ever got too far out of line. He was always one step ahead of each of us...or at least he thought he was. I guess if we did anything so outlandish that we'd get caught...well, as far as I know, none of us ever did. I was grounded a lot, though, because 'I looked guilty'...(oh, yeah, way to 'parent') I LOOKED guilty?!? What the...sorry, but that's just what I look like. It's just the way my face goes. (my husband tells me that, even after all these years, when I walk into a room, he cannot read me by the look on my face. Maybe there's a reason for that)
Anyway, this is significant for a later post.
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Introducing Myself
I am nothing special. Really. I'm not even educated...much. But sometimes we just have to realize that the deep dark secret that we've been keeping has also been holding us hostage. And I am smart enough to know that.
So, in my healing and letting go of my secret, I fully intend to make myself a better me. And it's taken over 40 years to get up the courage to look my demons in the face. That's a long time. But, having been knocked down to the ground a few times during the last 40 some years, in just trying to tell someone close to me my story, I decided that maybe it isn't the people close to me that I need to tell. Just someone. And I'm going to do that. Because it's time.
It's time to come to terms with some bad decisions. I'm not playing the 'victim card'. It's far too late for that, although that's exactly what I was. At one time. But, in my mature years, I have learned a lot. I now know that there were outside influences in so many of my life choices. From self-esteem issues to employment, to marriages, and everything in between. From nightmares to loneliness...it makes so much sense now. I could have had a much different life, if I had only known better. If only I had known then what I know now.
"Chamomile Calm"...what is THAT all about? (I don't even DRINK tea!) But, what it means to me is this...there are times when we have to find the 'calm after the storm'. We live in fear that our secrets will be realized by others and that those people will use our past to hurt us. Once that storm is over, it can leave devastation that can last a lifetime. Finding the 'Chamomile Calm' is like drinking a relaxing glass of wine on a particularly bad day. It's like taking a long bubble bath, and it's like closing our eyes on the back porch and breathing in the spring. Finding a little peace. You know...just finding the soft spot to fall.
So, although this is a work in progress, if anyone, for whatever reason, reads this and is interested in my little journey, please be patient. 40 plus years is a long time to keep a dark secret, and it might take some time to find the words. But once I do, I might be a wind bag...so hold on...
And, if my friends stumble on this, I beg that you show no judgment, for it's the fear of being judged that kept me quiet and injured for so long.
My name is Chloe, this is my story...and I am going to find my 'Chamomile Calm'.
So, in my healing and letting go of my secret, I fully intend to make myself a better me. And it's taken over 40 years to get up the courage to look my demons in the face. That's a long time. But, having been knocked down to the ground a few times during the last 40 some years, in just trying to tell someone close to me my story, I decided that maybe it isn't the people close to me that I need to tell. Just someone. And I'm going to do that. Because it's time.
It's time to come to terms with some bad decisions. I'm not playing the 'victim card'. It's far too late for that, although that's exactly what I was. At one time. But, in my mature years, I have learned a lot. I now know that there were outside influences in so many of my life choices. From self-esteem issues to employment, to marriages, and everything in between. From nightmares to loneliness...it makes so much sense now. I could have had a much different life, if I had only known better. If only I had known then what I know now.
"Chamomile Calm"...what is THAT all about? (I don't even DRINK tea!) But, what it means to me is this...there are times when we have to find the 'calm after the storm'. We live in fear that our secrets will be realized by others and that those people will use our past to hurt us. Once that storm is over, it can leave devastation that can last a lifetime. Finding the 'Chamomile Calm' is like drinking a relaxing glass of wine on a particularly bad day. It's like taking a long bubble bath, and it's like closing our eyes on the back porch and breathing in the spring. Finding a little peace. You know...just finding the soft spot to fall.
So, although this is a work in progress, if anyone, for whatever reason, reads this and is interested in my little journey, please be patient. 40 plus years is a long time to keep a dark secret, and it might take some time to find the words. But once I do, I might be a wind bag...so hold on...
And, if my friends stumble on this, I beg that you show no judgment, for it's the fear of being judged that kept me quiet and injured for so long.
My name is Chloe, this is my story...and I am going to find my 'Chamomile Calm'.
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