He Let Me Go
That has been a narrative since I was molested. It’s never made sense, but I found explanations and I wrote it off as he was done with me, or I wasn’t worth the struggle. With my understanding of who I am and the circumstances, it’s the only way it could have ended. He let me go.
Now, decades later I am writing down the story and there is something I’ve been keeping from myself. I escaped, I shoved him, I pushed him, and the moment I was free, I was out the door. He didn’t step aside and allow me to leave the room.
I have to wonder why I never saw that? Why when there are demonstrations that I am not a pathetic weakling do I dismiss them?
I escaped John Govan. Me a 14 year old kid against a 34 year old man. He was twice my weight, taller and had the advantage of being the aggressor. I was in shock and confused. And against those odds, I kicked in and took care of me. I wish I could have seen myself as the fierce kid I must have been.