His Perfect Little Victim
I became his perfect little victim. Too scared to fight back, too fearful to say anything, because with telling might come rejection, disbelief, shame. And retaliation from him.
I think I learned from an early age what it is to feel fear.
Fear of my mother. Fear of losing her love. Fear of expressing my emotions, because what came back to me was not love, it was disapproval.
Fear of my peers. Fear of being bullied. Fear of a boy in my class who shouldnít have had the control over me that he did. Fear of a man who I thought I could trust, who showed me how trust can be so unsafe.
Fear of not fitting in. Fear of staying, fear of going. Fear of rejection, and even fear of love. With love comes touch, and touch can be abusive.
By the time I reached my Navy schooling, fear was a part of who I was. I think that in part it shaped how I reacted to things in my life.
There was also the feeling dirty, the worthlessness, the pain. But inside me somewhere, there was always that fear. Sometimes I get to thinking that I allowed him to victimize me, but I know that isnít true. I know I fought back. But in the very beginning, my actions may have given him what he thought was permission, because in the beginning I reacted to him with fear.
In the least I think I came off as vulnerable. I didnít challenge him. In some ways I couldnít. He definitely used his rank to ensure that. But maybe there was that one time, that one chance, to challenge him in some way. Iíve gone back to see if I could find that one sliver of a chance when I could have said or done something.
I donít think there was one.
Dr H and I talked about his staring at me. I havenít told her much of my story, the parts where he is involved, but I have talked to her about his stares, and how they scared me, how they freaked me out.
Dr H remarked about him setting me up. By staring at me like he did, he was trying to spook me so much that when he raped me Iíd be unable to fight him, paralyzed by the fear that his stares filled me with.
I remember that by the time he first raped me, heíd been staring at me for so long that just being anywhere near him pretty nearly paralyzed me with fear.
She asked me why his staring still bothers me after all this time, why it still holds such power over me. I donít fully understand why. Itís just something thatís always been in my nightmares and flashbacks. Him staring at me.
She said that his stares canít control me anymore, and I understand that. Itís just hard when Iím coming out of a nightmare or a flashback to see it any other way. I think in some ways I still see myself as his victim, especially right after I've had either one. I know his stares canít have any effect on me anymore in my life now. I guess itís something I have to work on, getting over the memories of those stares and how they made me feel.
And I know I still have to work on not seeing myself as his perfect little victim. Because I don't think there is a "perfect" when it comes to being a victim.
And I'm not his victim anymore.