Chapter 16 Senior Year
So be sure when you step, step with care and great tact. And remember that life’s a great balancing act.
-Dr. Seuss
There was a foreign exchange student in a neighboring town that I met at a party right before school started. His name was Pekka and he was from Finland. He was one of the best friends I had ever had. We never dated or kissed, but we spent as much time together as possible. He was smart and funny. He learned English growing up, but slang was a different thing altogether. Other boys would tell him to say things to me– like pop her cherry–to get a reaction from me and embarrass Pekka. But it didn’t work. He and I thought it was funny. We became close, although I knew he was only there for a year. He couldn’t drive in the US, so I would pick him up. A lot of the area had dirt roads, so we did some spin outs making clouds of dust. We went to outdoor parties, bonfires, and friends’ houses. One time while driving on a dirt road that was straight, we went downhill. I put my knee on the steering wheel, took my hands off and held them up and said, “Look Mom, no hands!” Pekka looked at me and said, “Look Mom, no brain!” And we laughed like crazy like we always did.
Holy Hell
Not only did my periods start, they were hell. The cramping could put me down for two days and they would last more than a week with bleeding that was at hemorrhage level. I didn’t have one every month, but when they came it was with a fury. I was also having excruciating pain in my left side. An ultrasound found that I had cysts that were rupturing. The doctor put me on Ortho Novum 777 birth control pills. It was hard on my system and made me throw up when I started them.
The doctor told me again that I would probably have difficulty having children and to stay on the pills until I was older and trying to get pregnant. I had polycystic ovaries, meaning the cysts grew from the inside and couldn’t be removed. I was fortunate that I didn’t have polycystic syndrome. The pill would help keep them under control. I also learned what the pain was, which was less scary, and that there wasn’t anything that could be done when a cyst ruptured. I learned to ignore the pain when it happened after that because I knew what it was. Birth control helped a lot.
Working It
I worked at a store called Zayre. The chain of stores was only on the Eastern half of the United States and went out of business in 1990. It was similar to Kmart. I was a cashier, which I liked because I got to see a lot of people. I was fast and good at it. I liked getting a paycheck. One day a guy came through my line. He had long, stringy hair, glasses, was maybe only 5’2” tall, had tattoos, and was really skinny. You could tell he was a smoker by his voice and smell. He looked kind of dirty and a little menacing. I could see how some people would see him and proceed with caution, but I treated him like everyone else. I don’t remember being more friendly to him than anyone else, but I know I made him laugh.
He left and a few minutes later came back in. He said I was so nice to him that it really made his day. He said that most people ignore him or are rude to him because he’s so rough around the edges. He handed me a ring. It was tri- colored gold braided together, and there was a spot in the band where it had been cut. He told me it wasn’t much but it was all he had to thank me for my kindness. It was his wedding band from his third wife, but she left him like the previous two. He was a long haul truck driver and not ever in one place for any amount of time. He thought I could get it fixed and wear it, knowing somewhere there was someone who appreciated me. He was choked up and thankful. It was an immediate lesson of how we can do what seems like nothing and make a difference in someone’s life. I got the ring fixed and never took it off the thumb of my right hand.
An Unexpected Surprise
Early in the school year, I went to a friend’s house. She lived in another school district a couple of towns away. We had met while singing (how I met most of my friends) and became great friends. When I arrived, she wasn’t there yet and had her older brother tell me she was running late. Her brother was in college and visiting for the weekend. I had a crush on him. We had gotten to know each other a little, but for the most part, I was his younger sister’s friend. He asked me to chat in his room, and when I walked in, he kissed me. I was surprised, but not offended. He asked if it was OK if he kissed me again, and I said yes. After that, things happened so fast. He was all hands and mouth and had a lot more experience than I had. He was also good at touching. I felt like I was being swept away. I didn’t complain, and before I knew it we were on his water bed and he was taking off my pants. I thought for a minute about stopping him, but after the rape having someone I was attracted to want me was pleasant. Although Billie was someone I knew, this was someone I had known much longer and I knew his entire family, so I felt more comfortable. Alcohol and drugs weren’t present, it was just us and his desire for me. I also felt that there was no point in stopping him since I was no longer a virgin. What did it matter anymore?
When he entered me, it hurt. More than I thought it would, more than I expected. He was bigger than Billie was but it was still such a surprise. I thought pain from sex was over after the first time. He never noticed and everything he was doing felt good. I wanted to replace my only violent experience with a good one. I thought it would mean something. Within the pain of him moving inside of me was also pleasure. Pleasure in having my body touched and my nipples treated more tenderly. Pleasure in being naked with a man for the first time. Of feeling his skin on me. Pleasure burning inside of me along with the pain. The waterbed moved with us, urging us on.
When it was over, he pulled out and laid next to me. He said if I had arrived earlier we could have made love all day, but we should probably get up and dressed before anyone got home. And that was that. It was also over pretty quickly, which I was now figuring was the norm. I was glad because I was so sore. The inside of my vagina was throbbing. It was a better experience, but I felt removed from it. He didn’t care about me. He got what he wanted. He was just like all men. In the end, men hurt you. Either your heart, your body, or your feelings. He didn’t care about how I felt or if the sex was good for me. He ignored me after that or avoided me. A part of me broke a little bit more that day and I changed. I wanted control over men and I knew I could get it. I could use my body to control men. If I was in control, maybe the sadness would go away.
The Third Time’s a Charm
My mother married her third husband, Denis, in the fall. My friend Pekka was my date, which I was thankful for since some of my mother’s family came into town and I had to get everyone to the church. I wanted my mother to be happy and she seemed like she was. Denis bought a house–a beautiful, blue house with a detached garage. Although it was blue like The Monster’s house, that’s where the comparison ended. It had a mud room/laundry room that had stairs to a small basement that was finished and not scary. The laundry room opened into the kitchen and straight through to the front door. To the left of the kitchen was a half bath, a family room, dining room, and further towards the front, a living room. By the front door were the stairs going up. There were three bedrooms and two bathrooms. It was a comfortable, warm home. I was sad to move from Cindy’s house and the apartment, but I was no longer afraid of living in a home where I was abused.
Denis was bipolar and took Lithium. The Lithium is what made his hands shake–a side effect. He told us if he didn’t take it, he felt like superman. Like he could do anything. I only saw him like that once. He acted like a little kid more than anything, and he didn’t want to take his meds. Kimmie saw him once and he was using a measuring tape as a walkie talkie. She and Denis had a really good relationship, and she helped get him to take his meds. He didn’t intentionally not take them, but the couple times he missed them was interesting.
Staying true to form, one day I was upstairs eating a bowl of cereal. As I headed downstairs, I slipped and fell on my ass down the stairs. Also true to form, I protected the bowl of cereal. I yelled for Kimmie as if she could miraculously stop me mid fall. She came to the top of the stairs in time to see me hit the bottom where the bowl unceremoniously dumped into my lap. Muffin, our cat, came to help by lapping up the spilled milk, licking me, and sitting on my lap.
Arts and Academics
I didn’t participate in any plays my Senior year. I did a lot more with singing, though. Our music teacher started a rock band, and I was the lead vocalist. Singing was in my soul. I loved being in the band, singing all kinds of songs including “Hang On Sloopy,” “Stairway to Heaven,” and “Mony, Mony.” I got a red tank dress to perform in, which made me feel a little sassy. Sue played piano and sang also. Her talent always amazed me–more with time. She and I were in every play and every musical event together. Sue was always better than I was. I admired her.
I took my SAT’s and for a kid who didn’t do stellar in school, I scored a 1480, which was pretty good. With my average grades and test scores, I applied to a few colleges and universities in Burlington, VT. Burlington is a college town about an hour or so away from Barre and a much bigger city.
I took a hip-hop dance class for PE that I loved. I knew I loved to dance and had a good sense of rhythm and beat, but this was more organized. I hadn’t been in any dancing classes since ballet in third grade. I had a blast. I also took a photography class. We were given cameras and film and free reign to take pictures. Then we were taught how to use the darkroom and develop all of our film. It was another one of my favorite classes. I learned a love for photography.
I also took a class from Miss Watson. Most of us dreaded having her. She was much older, never married, and didn’t have children of her own. She was a tough teacher who I don’t think was even 5’ tall, but she commanded obedience and expected us to toe the line. I took creative writing from her. Not only did I learn that I loved writing, I learned to love Miss Watson. She was amazing. She pushed me to be better and I thrived. My love of writing blossomed in her class.
Girl Meets Boy
I dated one guy during this year. Rob was our class valedictorian and on the football team. He was super shy and a very nice guy–the geeky guy that’s into sports. I was the music/ drama kid, so it was an odd match. I asked him out, and we went to the movies in a snowstorm and then hung out at his parent’s house. Rob would watch me practice in the band after school. We spent time with friends, and he hung out at my house a lot. At this point, it was a shame I dated a nice guy. It was horrible timing because I was such a mess from the abuse of my childhood and the recent rape. As far as sex went I had a serious case of the fuck its. It was Rob’s first time having sex. We went to prom together, and then had a sleepover at my house. There were a bunch of kids there, and the plan was to all crash on the living room floor in sleeping bags and watch movies. That’s when I propositioned him. On the floor in the living room with my mother and sister upstairs and other kids in sleeping bags nearby.
After that, we had sex in the car and (like most teenagers) wherever we could. He was so crazy in love with me and I loved him, but not the way he wanted or the way I should have. The relationship and sex meant so much to him, and although I was never malicious, I also wasn’t fair to him. He fell hard and I was somewhat indifferent. I didn’t want anything serious in my senior year of high school before we all left to college and went our separate ways. So I broke things off. I felt claustrophobic when he wanted more than I did. It wasn’t that I felt like he was looking at me and thinking I wasn’t worth it. I didn’t think I was worthy of him. I still felt broken, not worth it, and shattered. He loved me too much, too hard. I was a hot mess and he deserved something more. He was crushed. I felt awful, but I didn’t look back.
Finding God...Again
Through everything that happened in my life (both good and bad), I still had that innate knowledge that God existed. I had tremendous faith that there was something better, something more in life, and I went on a mission to find it. I wasn’t going to church with my Grammy or my mother. I started asking friends what church they went to and tagged along. I was looking for a place I fit in, where there were values I wanted. Eventually, my friend Patti invited me to her church. By that time I had been to so many, I told her to please not be offended when I didn’t like it. Patti was Mormon, and I went with her family the next Sunday. I was shocked. They spoke of strong family values and families that are together for time and eternity instead of death do you part. It felt like I had found people who had similar values to mine.
I didn’t understand anything about the Mormon church; I didn’t know anything about it and I looked like an ass. There were two missionaries there–cute guys around my age was all I saw. I hit on one of them. When I realized they were from different parts of the world and there to convert, I was mortified. The two of them ended up teaching me the six discussions so I would understand the church. I planned on getting baptized. My mother had been tolerant of them coming over and teaching me, but when I announced my baptism, she freaked out. She yelled at me, cried, asked me why I would make such a mistake in joining a cult. She got in touch with Kevin’s parents (my boyfriend from my junior year) and sent me to their cabin for a three day weekend to un-brainwash me. My mother knew dating Kevin was a positive experience and I loved his family. If they told me not to join the church, she thought I would listen because of how I felt about them.
I made a deal with my mother. If I went away for three days and still wanted to be baptized, she wouldn’t stand in my way. You could have sent me anywhere at that point ,and I would have still wanted to go through with it. I was clinging to the idea that there was something better than how I was raised and convinced that this was the answer. I went to the cabin. Kevin was there, and it was clear he resented my presence, but I equally resented being there. So on that front, we were even. At one point he told me if I didn’t join the Mormon church maybe we could start hanging out. But I knew things he didn’t know. I still thought in his eyes I wasn’t worth it, and he didn’t have a clue what the last ten months were like for me. There was no possibility that he would have gotten through to me. I knew I was damaged.
Kevin and I barely spoke. I did my three days there and came home. When I got there I called the missionaries and set up my baptism for the same month I was graduating from high school. The rules didn’t seem difficult. No drinking, smoking, drugs, coffee–big deal, I didn’t do them anyway. No premarital sex. Well, I was planning on swearing off sex, so that seemed easy too.
Graduation
Our rock band performed at our high school graduation. One of our classmates wrote the song “Dreams.” Sue played the piano and I sang it. It felt amazing to sing in front of my classmates and their families. It was my final performance of high school. I was now baptized in the Mormon church and was a high school graduate and moving on with my life. I got accepted to Trinity College in Burlington, VT. It was an all-girls private, Catholic college that had a great reputation. Because I was born in December and started school when I was only four, I was only 17 when I graduated. Somehow I felt so much older.
Becoming A Warrior Princess
I wanted to be on my own and I knew that I was struggling. I also knew I was strong. It was a relief to have Kimmie in high school and see my mom in a better relationship. Kimmie and Denis were very close. He and my mother split up in 1996 for reasons unknown to me. When he died of bone marrow cancer in 2000 Kimmie was devastated. It was more difficult for her than when our father died, which isn’t much of a surprise. I’m thankful she had that relationship with a father figure. I learned to like Denis a lot, and I’m glad for the time we spent together sporadically over the couple years I was around.
Rob and I have stayed in touch, which I’m thankful for because I’ve been able to apologize to him. That doesn’t mend a broken heart, but hopefully it brings some healing from the past.
I learned much later the church Kevin went to when we were dating was a conservative, charismatic Assemblies of God church where he was “convicted of sins.” One of those sins was me. I wasn’t of the same faith, although my belief in God was innately part of who I was. I wasn’t charismatic enough, I was an “unbeliever” because I wasn’t part of the fold. We had sexually experimented, which was a sin against God. We didn’t speak for years, but when we finally did there were many tears (mine), relief, apologies and a reconnection. Interestingly, neither of us currently belong to the churches that we did back then. Our religious beliefs are closely aligned now and religion is a subject I look forward to discussing together.
As teenagers, we are gullible and easy to manipulate. We are struggling with becoming adults, our self-esteem, confidence, and decision making. It’s unfortunate that there are adults who will take advantage of our youth and use their beliefs to sway our decisions. In my opinion, guilt, shame and fear should never be part of religion. There is a part of me that wonders “what if ” things had been different, but we were so young. Even if we had gotten past that hurdle, there would have been many others to navigate. There is a special place in my heart for those memories. They helped get me through tough times later, even though things ended badly and I was hurt. I learned a lesson about how fun and wonderful a relationship can be and that, at one time, I was beautiful and worth it to him.
I remained in the Mormon church for 17 years and had a temple recommend for 13. This means I was following all of the strict rules of the church and I passed the two person interview process. Not everyone can go into the temple, only those who have a recommend. I never felt like it was where I belonged though. I was too strong, swore, wanted tattoos, and desired to wear less conservative clothing. It constricted my whole personality as I couldn’t show all facets of who I am. I stayed so long because I still wanted a utopia I was convinced existed and was married to a Mormon. I thought I was doing what was right. In the end, any utopia we can attain is within us. I’m much happier now being completely myself and loving God without restrictions. Sex would be my vice because in the end I learned that I loved it. A lot.
Triumph with Love
I learned that I am smarter than I give myself credit for. I learned a passion for writing, which was another way to process my feelings and emotions. I loved the stage. It was a place where I didn’t have to hide. I could be anyone and anything I wanted–even if it meant I was just being myself. I learned God was many things to many people, and I was desperate to find a place I fit in.
Kevin told me something in that conversation years later when we had a heart to heart conversation. “Life can be shit, but shit is fertilizer.” So we use it to grow something better. Amen.
LEARN AND GROW
• Visualize in hard times and in setting goals
• The world is your stage
• Love God and tell Him. He’s the one that knows the real you