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Being nice and polite is not always right – a painful childhood memory

This is something I have never written about before, and only a few people know about this. When I was around 7 years old I loved taking my teddy bear (actually a panda) out for a walk in my red toy-stroller. My parents allowed me to walk around the block alone, which only took 5-10 minutes. One cold but sunny day when I was out doing this, all alone, a foreign man approached me. I guess he was around 45-50 years old, dark hair and tall. It all happened so quickly. He gestured toward me that he wanted me to come to him, and I wanted to be polite so I obeyed. When I was close to him everything about him changed, he quickly placed his hands on either side of my face and forced my face close to his and kissed me. I still remember his tongue pressing into my mouth and the strong minty flavour of his mouth. I panicked, I was trapped and I didn’t know what to do. No one was around, no one saw us. His car was just a few meters away and he grabbed my hand saing “come” and gently tried to pull me to his car. Somehow I managed to get my hand back, shook my head no and began walking very quickly in the direction of my home. He called after me, as I turned my head to look at him, he gave me a blow kiss in the air and he still gestured that he wanted me to come back to him. I soon began running and tears were streaming down my face. I told my mother what happened the minute I got home and she rushed out to our car and went to find this man. She never did. She went to the police but they never found him either.

In this situation I tried to be nice and polite. I stopped when he approached me and wanted to talk to me. I didn’t scream, kick or bite – I was too chocked and afraid to do anything.

🌹🌹🌹 🌹🌹🌹

The event that happened tonight with the old man who has begun stalking me and who approached me in an uncomfortable way two days ago triggered this memory to return.

Not once did I write about this in my book or on my blog. I think I have only told this to two or three people, and it was probably 10 years ago.

There are millions of memories in my past, just like this one, that I never speak of. I tell people about some of the other things that have happened to me, like that my father was an alcoholic, that I was sexually abused at the age of 6 by three older boys, that I was bullied in school, had reading/writing difficulties, had anorexia, was raped by two boys when I was 17, ran away from home, lived in an abusive relationship for almost two years, my mother died when I was 18, my father died a few years after that and much more.

I kept all these things a secret within me the first 20-something years of my life. Never told anyone what was happening to me. Now that I have begun sharing my story a little (I am 34 years old now) I realize there are so many more pieces in this puzzle, so many more events that I have kept hidden for so long.

It actually feels refreshing to get it out in the open and finally letting it go. I will no longer carry these heavy secrets within my heart, I will let them go and finally be free. ❤ Stay tuned for more memories that I will let go of – which I may choose to share, or not. In either case I will no longer keep them hidden within me, I will open my heart and set them free.

I will no longer sacrify my own wellbeing in order to be kind, polite and well-behaved. I refuse to fit in, I refuse to be ashamed, I refuse to feel guilty, I refuse to blame. Instead I embrace myself, trust myself, value myself, honor myself, support myself and love myself in the process of letting these memories go.

Thank you dear rascal for triggering this memory in me, thank you for inspiring me to once and for all stop being so bloody nice and start valuing and trusting my instinct. 🌹

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Your past does not have to affect your future

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