Anonymous February

A Child’s Game

 I was 5 years old, and I remember climbing over the fence from my neighbor’s yard to quickly get back into my backyard with my dog, where I felt safe.  At the time, I wasn’t sure WHY I had the sudden sense of urgency to go home while my parents were gone, but I knew that I did NOT want to be next door.  My parents couldn’t understand WHY I kept hopping the fence, and were always apologetic to my neighbors and my sitter, who was a 15 year old girl.  They reprimanded me for not listening and being a “brat”; I was a tom-boy growing up, and I’m SURE they thought I was just doing “tom-boy” things, like climbing fences and getting dirty.  It wasn’t until later that I realized I was escaping a situation that made me uncomfortable. 

The first incident I remember was when my babysitter and I were playing in the backyard where there was an old, wooden tool shed.  It was dark and damp, and the space was only big enough to fit two people.  My sitter brought me into the shed and closed the door.  I was afraid of the dark and GHASTLY afraid of spiders; this was NOT a place where I felt safe.  I remember wanting to get out and go back outside, but my sitter comforted me and said that it would be okay.  I looked around at the small room, and still felt uneasy.  When I turned toward my sitter, she had her shirt lifted up.  She held my hand and told me to come close to her, saying we would play “mommy and baby”, where I would be the baby, and she the mommy.  She said, “When babies are afraid, they nurse on their mothers for comfort.”  Well, I was only 5 years old but I wasn’t born yesterday!  I quickly pulled my hand from hers, backed out of the cold, dark tool shed, and hopped the fence to safety.  I’m positive that situation was the beginning of what would be known to my parents as my “juvenile fence hopping stage”.  

I didn’t tell anyone about what happened because I wasn’t sure if it was wrong.  My sitter was 15, and we played together often.  I honestly thought that maybe she was just playing a game, and I didn’t want to get in trouble for “telling”.  But the discomfort that game caused in my gut assured me that I did NOT want to play.

Although nothing happened physically that day, it was still the beginning of what turned out to be a life of fighting for my right as a child to stay innocent and also the trigger behind my curiosity about sex at an early age.