Judgment for Patty

Patty was one of my dad's regular visitors.  One day coming home from school, on my way into my room, I glanced into my father’s open bedroom door.  She was there, standing in the mirror, naked.  I paused and stared at her breasts.  I remember thinking they were beautiful.  And almost immediately I felt a fear that I might be discovered, averted my eyes and continued walking.  She was there from time to time.  He must have met her in town that day.  At least he would be occupied. I remember wondering:  "Does God disprove of me for lusting after her.  I know my dad would.  I can never admit this.  What if he saw me?  What if he questions me?"

Before doing my homework, I spent the next few minutes practicing my surprised face which I would use later in the face of any accusation.  He would often question me about my potential attraction to the women he fucked.  I see now he was insecure.  Then, I only feared his anger and planned my words and facial expressions to keep him calm.  Homework.

Later that night, the yelling began, followed shortly thereafter by the cries of pain and fear.  I could here the impact of his blows. I used to judge the women for not working harder to keep him happy.  Could they not see how I handled him?  Did they not care if they were beaten? Or was I wrong? Was the situation actually much more helpless and hopeless than I realized?  Could I face such sober reflection?  No.  That’s why I turned my thoughts to their mistakes. Whatever was happening was not my fault.  I went to bed and tried to sleep.

In my adult life, I have carried his fears into my romantic relationships.  I suppose I fill the same “beating-time” role, sitting in my room, feeling frantic, trying not to look at those feelings.  Look how we all do that: blame and judge, skipping introspection, denying personal experience with the same kinds of failures. Relationship problems are mostly discussed in terms of whether we have found the "right person" as opposed to being seen as prompts for self-reflection and personal growth. I'm not blaming anybody. Self-reflection and growth are hard.

Should I have done something differently? I prayed. Jesus didn't help Patty escape. Jesus helped me escape, but in a different way than I ever would have imagined.  I always wanted Him to show up and magically change my whole life.  I wanted anyone to show up and change my whole life. Now that I'm telling my story publicly, I realize why I was right to keep silent as a child.  People don't want to get involved any more than Jesus does. People just want to ask why I didn't see how to handle my dad.  Of course, they mean well, and their ideas about what might have worked for me probably sound reasonable to them, in their own imaginations.  The bottom line is this: I didn't do anything to help Patty escape. I feel guilty about that.  Likewise, no person did anything to help me. I wonder if people feel guilty about that. Is that why they tell me what I should have done differently.

I think it's more useful to focus on what we can do now. I'm going to try my hardest to face the difficult memories and suppressed emotions of my childhood. Whether you support me in my healing or insist that we rewrite history with what "should have happened," the choice is up to you. How does my story make you feel? What would you like to see changed in this world?

© 2013 Ernest Samuel Christie III