***Trigger Warning – mentions grooming as it pertains to sexual abuse
A Way To Channel Anger
It was my eighth grade year. I’m not particularly sure what time of the year, but I believe it was the latter part of fall because the leaves were falling. The cool air was in the midst, and I was wearing my favorite lavender-colored jacket as a wrap-around to avoid menstrual flowing accidents.
It was a martial arts class. My father believed that my siblings and me needed some discipline, and he wanted me, specifically, to channel the anger within me that continued to spoil everything on site. My father hoped that martial arts would teach me to manage my anger more constructively. Although even I knew that I needed help with anger management, I was not too happy about taking a martial arts class to do it.
Outside of a male teacher, the martial arts instructor was the first male that I had close contact with who was not my father. I remember not being too impressed with this instructor’s martial arts class because I was not a fan of exercise or anything remotely to do with physical exertion.
My younger sister, however, instantly took a liking to him. She went out of her way to present herself to him as an eager to please student. At the time, she was in fourth grade.
Family Ties
The martial arts instructor knew my father well. When my father was a cub scout’s leader, the instructor was a part of his troupe as a teen. So the instructor gave the presentation that he and my father went way back and had a friendly history.
In fact, there were other ties as well because the instructor’s mother – a narcissistic matriarch – ran within the circles of mothers in my neighborhood. So their family was well acquainted with what was supposedly my troubled past within the neighborhood too.
Because of a conflict with the elderly woman who lived next door to my family and her grandsons, I was inappropriately mislabeled as the neighborhood liar and troublemaker. So, I had already been branded with a name that the martial arts instructor had zeroed in on making me his primary target of interest.
Targeted By An Older Man
Interestingly, the martial arts instructor would first begin breaking down his sights on me by gaining the trust of my parents. He was already known to them, and his family was viewed as a very prominent and respected family within the church and the community. This instructor was a married father and seemingly lived a happy life. His son also took the martial arts class too and was in fourth grade along with my sister.
In fact, this instructor’s martial arts studio made for a family affair. Not only did his son take the class, but some of his siblings and other relatives attended his classes as well. Once this instructor began growing in numbers from members who were not a part of his family, did his family members trickle off in their attendance. Frankly, I did not like the vibe I felt when his family members were present. I always felt that something was strangely off. However, I found that the instructor’s youngest sister, who was in fifth grade with my brother, was becoming fast friends with the me.
I would love to believe that my parents were indeed none the wiser of this instructor’s interests in helping me, but because he seemingly showed interest in all of my siblings, my parents took his bait – hook, line, and sinker – without his needing to do much work to convince them of anything. Another part of me looks back in dismay because a part of me sadly wonders if they did know and simply turned their heads away while selling me out for slaughter. [I will explain later why I later believed this to be the case.]
I was the weirdo, the kooky one, the loner, the outsider, the outcast, the reject, the black sheep, the autistic, the mute, and the untouchable one. I was a quiet and introverted girl suffering from a multitude of anxiety and depression issues. I was struggling in school and performing unsatisfactorily by all accounts given by my teachers. I was a proverbial lost cause, but I was also a survivor. I had survived sexual assault and other traumas.
Evidentially, martial arts was supposed to help me find my way, but it only led to a gamut of more problems and more overwhelming trauma. The martial arts instructor was a man with a lot of charisma, a firm teacher in his methods, and a smooth-talking manipulator. I had not taken notice of his grooming techniques on me right away, but once this instructor saw an opening, he wasted no time leaping through it to shower me with loads of attention.
I did not know what a groomer was until I met this instructor, and I had no idea that he was grooming me for his darkness.
Stay tuned for the next post.
My Voice Unchained 