Friday, December 21, 2012

Clearing Up Some Falsehoods

For almost thirty years, I have held two painful lies within.  Tonight, as I lay awake in bed trying to sort out how my parents could have thought me capable of those two things when I was around 10-11 years old, I realized they probably knew no better at the time than to assume the worst.  I have recently told my dad the truth about one of these items and my mom the truth about the other, but for some reason, I am still bothered and troubled.  Perhaps because the perceived "victims" never learned the truth.  Perhaps because I still believe I was the "bad" child. despite what I have recently been told by a former teacher (that I was not bad at all as a 3rd grader-I was polite, well behaved and caring-I found it hard to believe.)

The first, and more heinous, of the two falsehoods is:  When I was 11, I was accused of molesting a 5 year old neighbor girl.  For those of you who don't already know this, by the time I was 11, I knew I was homosexual, and had no interest whatsoever in the opposite gender, save friends and family relationships. I was interrogated by my father for what must have been hours on the topic, and finally, after a VERY long (in my young mind) time, I decided I was too tired to keep saying that I had not done what they thought I did, and said that there had been a glancing touch out of curiosity.  This never actually happened.  I wasn't curious at all, but I also wasn't ready to come out of the closet.  The only people who did believe me at the time were my therapist, Shelley; my grandma Joann; uncle Vincent and my aunt June.  I spent years with people believing I had done this, and only in the past 24 months told my Dad it had never, in fact, happened.  When he asked me why I had finally said it had, I told him the truth.  "I knew if I just said it had happened, you would stop asking me about it and leave me alone," was my reply.  My Dad apologized, and I can tell he both believed me and meant the apology, but I am still troubled by what it meant that people thought me capable of such a thing at such a young age.

The second item was I was accused of stealing approximately $100 from my (then) toddler brother's piggy bank.  From my best recollection, this happened in early 1987, as my sister Courtney was already born, but I don't believe my brother Andrew was (I tend to measure time based on which sibling was already born in this period of my life.) I never confessed to this, because it never happened.  Even later, when my parents found out our nanny had been stealing, it never occurred to them to re-visit the topic with me.  I spent a summer mowing lawns and working off a debt that was not mine to repay, and it has bothered me ever since.  I repaid the amount of $100 (decided by my parents as appropriate.)  What I never understood is what did my VERY aware of our actions parents think I had done with the missing $100?  I had been grounded for 9 weeks due to bad grades, and never went anywhere alone at that age, so the opportunity to have spent this money was simply non-existent. I recently told my mom about this, and in tears, she and I spoke at length and she and I figured it must have been the nanny after all.

I don't know why it still bothers me that these two things were thought about me for so long.  It has been 25 years since I saw that girl, though one of her half brothers is still in touch with me via facebook, and I have clearly made and spent much more than that $100 since then.  Still, it bothers me to think there are still people out there who believe this to be true.  I am sure my parents told people and sought advice, as any normal concerned parent would have.  But I am equally sure that there is no way to erase those accusations, or the perceptions about me they may have created, including the ones within myself.  I would love any feedback you guys may have or suggestions on how to let this go once and for all.  It is a tape I would love to "eject" from my brain permanently, but sometimes it still keeps me awake at night.  I hate it when someone doesn't like me for whatever reason, and have only recently stopped seeing it as a flaw in my personality if I don't get along with someone.  Some people just don't mesh well.  Do I think my parents meant to hurt me?  Not for a moment.  They love me, and are 2 of my biggest fans.

I just want so badly to never have another sleepless night over this.  So tonight, I am writing to you, my friends and readers, asking you to share with me in the comments what works for you.


As Always,
Love, Light and thanks in advance.


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