The following is from week long posts I did on Facebook last week to bring awareness to the #MeToo secrets women carry. The stories and experiences are uniquely mine, but I am in no way unique. I was told I should put them in my blog. So I did.
I was on my strawberry huffy. Oh how I loved that bike. I would ride everywhere in my neighborhood. Once, I was going to visit two of my good friends.
I was 9. #metoo
We were excited to go to the Halloween dance. He was going to take us and my dad and step-mom were cool with that because 1) they knew him as he had dated my eldest sister, and 2) he was our next door neighbor.
He knocked on the door to see if we were ready to go. My sisters weren’t ready, but I was. So, I went outside to hang until they were ready.
I asked him if he liked my 50’s outfit and if I looked like the 50’s…like “Happy Days.” Out of nowhere, he grabbed me, pushed me against the hard brick wall, pressed himself roughly against me, held my hands behind my back with one hand, and held my face with the other then began kissing me. He forced me to open my mouth and “french kissed” me so roughly I thought my tongue was going to come out of my mouth. I could taste the alcohol in his mouth.
He finally let me go. I ran in the house shocked, betrayed, and disgusted. My sisters yelled for me to come on as they were now ready to go. I didn’t say a word about what happened.
He kept looking at me in the rear view mirror the whole drive over to the party. My sisters got out together and ran to the door to see if the facility hosting the party was open. I stayed in the car.
He asked me if I liked the kiss.
I was 12. #metoo