Me..... a secret torturesome.

Let us, as usual start with a story so that we can very conveniently understand the nuances of it. I was nine and I had a tutor who coached me for various stage programs. Let us just skip the peripherals and say that he molested me one day.  For seven years, I carried the secret with me. By that time however, I had become a ghost of what I had been. I had transferred schools and the deep confusion and fear regarding this incident kept me away from the stage and from the popular events. I despised attention. It took me a marvelous teacher at my college to find the stage again somewhat and renew my confidence. You could say that I did it because I didn’t want to disappoint him.

Now, let us go into the emotional side of the victim here aka me. I was tormented, for I wasn’t sure what had happened. I was too young to comprehend. But when I did understand, I felt ashamed. I felt as if it’s my fault. There is no question as to why I thought so. I just did. Then came a stage when I knew it wasn’t my fault and on a day when I was 16, I told my mother. She went in search of him, but since he was a guest teacher, there were scanty records of him. And 8 years past since I told her, she is very protective of me as she thinks it’s her fault it happened to me. How can we be expected to distrust everybody in this world? My mother left me alone with him only once and that when my younger brother was there. My teacher sent him to buy something. So, opportunity was created from the blue. Then of course, as I began to understand I wasn’t alone and around 25% of children in this world and 50% in this nation  undergo Child Sexual Abuse (CSA) in some form or the other, there developed a sense of acceptance. Yes, it happened to me. But, life has to go on. I cannot deny that my blood doesn’t boil at the very thought of another child undergoing the same trauma or that sometimes I wish I could search him out and shoot him. I wish I could bring justice to millions of those kids who trust their elders while lustful eyes and hands wander over their tiny bodies, contaminating their innocent souls, filling their hearts with fear.

I wouldn’t say that my life hasn’t been changed because of it. It has. And I wouldn’t say that it is not demented. It is. But, it is life. It constantly challenges you to overcome obstacles. Very objectively speaking, I am glad it happened to me for one reason- it made me a better person over the years. It made me think about myself. Well yes, there are negative points. I don’t trust men easily, though my closest of friends are mostly men. I am extremely conscious of how a stranger looks at me. An innocent touch is doubted, even from relatives. I have an ambivalent attitude towards my genitilia. I do not allow any man to take control of me. My brother hates that. He cannot comprehend how I can perceive him as anything other than an extension of me. So he does things to challenge this boundary. I think over the years I have become more comfortable with myself and as a result more comfortable with him crossing those boundaries. It reassures him that he is still mine.

I have often wondered what makes a person so perverse as to get attracted to such innocence. What pleasure do they get? But, it is not for me to wonder. I cannot imagine getting inside such a person’s head without any training. Simone de Beauvoir wrote in The Second Sex that for a man sexuality is objectified. I will be grateful if one day somebody explains to me how this sexuality is objectified from the tip of his penis to a region that possibly cannot accommodate it. It has no logic in it. But, of course as always, human mind is not about logic alone.

Yet, I think, is anger the way out? If I search him out and confront him, does it make everything alright? Yes, I want to search him out one day. I want to stand in front of him and say that he hasn’t destroyed me. But, I need to achieve my dreams for that. Maybe its post conventional stage of morality, but I don’t believe in revenge. If indeed I were to feel angry towards anyone and destroy that person, does it make me any better than him/her? I believe in avenging. I believe I should have the courage of conviction to stand up straight and say, yes, that’s my past, that happened to me, but look at me now. I avenge myself when I let my light shine and change the world around me. There are a lot of things wrong with this world. Lot of things. Does that mean I run away from it? How can I run away from a world that tomorrow is my children’s? Do I teach them to stay and fight or blame everything on the world and run for comfort? Do I let my emotions get the better of me, seek him out, yell at him or do I get to where I want to be, where I can help people who have gone through what I have been through or worse? Or help make policies and generate awareness about CSA or rape or anything else? Isn’t that the ultimate REVENGE? Isn’t there a bigger picture than me in this? I believe so. I believe I have to do my part in that picture. For better or worse, I am wedded to this need;to this idea of societal evolution.

Child abuse casts a shadow the length of a lifetime. So said Herbert Ward. Let us cast some light over it, shall we?