This one is going to take me a while. Not only is it, what I consider, my most damaging trauma, but you’ll need context and lots of information to understand who, what, why, and how.
When I was 9 years old, we moved from one state to another. We were constantly moving. I wasn’t happy with it, but I knew it was going to happen. Our new neighborhood was a white picket suburbia without the front yard fences. Imagine the most copy/paste houses you can with only the layout being adjusted slightly. That was our Pinecrest Crossing. It was the type of place that you’d leave your garage door open during the day, even if you had expensive tools. Where you let your 4th graders walk to the bus stop alone after you’d already gone to work.
No one would suspect, lurking in the winding, quiet streets of Pinecrest Crossing, predators were lurking, looking for prey at the neighborhood block parties.
No one would suspect, lurking in the winding, quiet streets of Pinecrest Crossing, predators were lurking, looking for prey at the neighborhood block parties. The men who helped their wives decorate for Halloween, the ones who always smiled when they answered the door for their kids’ friends, they were on the lookout for a child who was naïve enough to trust them. Unfortunately, I was one of those kids. I was a doe-eyed, untaught, neglected, and underappreciated child who was willing to accept attention from a dad down the block because he told me I was a smart, funny, kind, and beautiful young lady.
I was taught that the adults who lived in the neighborhood were safe people. I’d even had a hummingbird war with our adult male neighbor. He was so kind, his wife had the most adorable Havanese puppers, and their similar aged daughter, Wren, was friends with Emily. The dad of my French friend caddy-corner to us was super funny. He always supported his kids and beautiful wife; he was like another father figure. Who was I to know that another dad down the road wouldn’t be so kind and funny. I was set up for failure.
I was taught that the adults who lived in the neighborhood were safe people… Who was I to know that another dad down the road wouldn’t be so kind and funny. I was set up for failure.
I had a crush on Spinner, who was 11 when I met him, since the first day of school. He was in 6th grade, he was super cool, and he rode my bus. I went widely unnoticed until about halfway through fourth grade. A new girl, Mindy, joined by bus route and I started going to her house frequently. I would sometimes get off at her bus stop so I could hang out at her place, or I’d ride my scooter to her house.
That’s when he noticed me, now that we shared a bus stop, I was visible. Now don’t get me wrong, I was an awkward weirdo in fourth grade. I’m not trying to paint a picture of a perfect plastic little doll here. I just ended up noticed a lot due to my unique name. Getting attention from a cute boy was a sensation I hadn’t felt before, keep in mind, he was in sixth grade, 11 years old, and I- I was emotionally stunted from the lack of teachings I got about real-world situations. Side note: Mommy Dearest didn’t think to put me on birth control until I was 18 because she “didn’t think I would need it.” Yeah, let that sink in.
Time for a quick break before I get into the thick of it.
Alright, that was a good long break. I think I’m good to keep going. So, as I was saying. I was getting off the same bus stop as Mindy. This stop just so happened to be Spinner’s stop, too. How did I know this? Because I was a completely hypervigilant nosey Nancy and I noticed, that’s how. Oh, and one day, he said hi to me. Crazy, right? Someone fucking noticed me. I was in shock. I never had attention like that. Now, the other girls in my class? Sure. They did, but not me. It became a bit of a thing, I’d get off at her stop, he would say hi, eventually asking me what my name was, and then I’d go hang out with Mindy.
How dare things hype up and not follow through.
The fourth-grade school year ended. He would be going on to middle school, riding a new bus, and my connection with that bus stop, Mindy, was moving out of town that summer. It was the worst! How dare things hype up and not follow through. I got over it and started the summer like any summer, except it was my first full summer in Pinecrest Crossing. I could do just about whatever. I was about to be 10 and my parents trusted the hell out of me and the neighborhood. I started to wander around that part of the roads on my bike and scooter and eventually I spotted him.
Don’t worry, I played it cool and eventually just turned the other way and ran for the hills as fast as I could. Not before I was spotted though. Thus, a new routine was born. I’d started to get more confident and go say hi because he said hi. It was just a crush and there was no harm in it. I had seen his parents, and it wasn’t a big deal, I knew who they were, they knew who I was. It was Pinecrest. Who gave a shit. Anyways. All this to say as the summer and subsequent school year waned on, my bravery got bigger and I eventually started to go spend a couple minutes talking to him in his driveway, that turned into spending a few minutes in his house and spending a few minutes more. Eventually I was telling my parents I was hanging out at Mindy’s after school again. They didn’t know she moved.
Lying to my parents continued to get easier…
It was the first time I lied to my parents. Unfortunately, the experience was easy.
At the end of the summer before 6th grade, I had gotten to where I could figure out how to best split my time between actual friends that they knew the parents of and “Mindy’s” house. Lying to my parents continued to get easier and seeing Spinner was even more exciting as I got older. I was 11 now, going on 12.
In sixth grade, I had already accidentally spent a few evenings at Spinner’s house when Spinner was at his friend’s house. Who did I hang out with? Roach. Spinner’s dad. Why? Because his dad was cool. He was like a neighbor down a few blocks and well, he let me watch TV shows that were just out of my age range but not too far that I’d be scarred for life.
Who did I hang out with? Roach. Spinner’s dad. Why? Because his dad was cool.
Roach talked to me about my friendship with Spinner. He told me different things, like what was appropriate for kids our age, what was appropriate for a boy Spinner’s age and what was appropriate for a girl my age, and why those were vastly different. Eventually, I felt more comfortable with Roach than I did with any other adult I had ever met before, make that anyone else of any age. He was approachable, he was kind, and he talked to me like an equal. He would tell me I was wise and kind, that I was a sweet kid with a good head on my shoulders.
Okay, welp, another break. Hold up.
[H]e knew exactly how to speak to me to get me enthralled because I had opened up about my home life since he listened.
Having an adult talk to a child like they’re another adult can really fuck with a kid’s head, at least in this way. It’s important to treat your kids with human decency and not act like they’re insubordinate babies, but it’s also important to keep shit age appropriate. Being treated like an infant by my parents throughout my life had set me up for wanting to binge talk to an adult who treated me like an adult, and I fell for it hard. He sauced it on hard too, he knew exactly how to speak to me to get me enthralled because I had opened up about my home life since he listened. No one else bothered to listen up until that point. You have to be careful with your kids. You never know who’s going to step into the role you fail to provide for them.
Traumatized Viridimere 