In the spirit of the metoo movement, here goes:
I must have been 7 or maximum 9. We were travelling by flight and dad happened to meet and greet a man jovially and everyone was happy and smiling, must have been a friend. We boarded the flight. There were 2 rows of 3 seats each with an aisle in the middle. Elder bro, mom and dad settled on one side. Younger bro, me and that man settled on the other. I wanted the window seat but my bro was faster than me. We belt ourselves in and the flight takes off. I dont know at what point, a palm began to slide under my buttock. I look up and innocently wonder if that man is looking for something he may have dropped. He was looking indifferently in the front. I got confused. He slid it complete under my left buttock and let it remain there. By then I went kinda blank but knew something was wrong (and yet not thaaaaat wrong?) He was a friend, and yet this didn't seem right so I tried to look towards my parents across the aisle, stretching with difficulty from my seat. (this scene is etched in my mind so much that I can still experience the helplessness even today) I couldn't catch their attention and somehow I just couldn't find my voice. When that didn't work, his palm was still under me while I tried to lift myself off from the seat as much as possible, (my little self meanwhile kept wondering how come my parents can't see or know I am in difficulty- without me even having said a word). I then turned to my brother on my right and literally begged him in desperation to exchange seats with me PLEASE. He agreed after some hesitation and it was then over. (Today I really wonder if I put him into a bad situation because pedophiles don't see gender, someday I will talk to him about it)
Somehow that incident led to many many things. I stopped trusting anyone, even my parents because for my little mind, they called a jerk their friend. I became very quiet as a child and it lasted in extreme until recent years. I withdrew from the world and all things related to the body. I became very thoughtful and a keen observant of people and how much of what they said matched the actual truth of things.
I am 29 today and I cried about this incident only a year or two ago and I feel regret for not having fully been able to live my childhood or been more carefree. A lot of traits still continue but I am learning to recognise and work on myself for dropping learned defenses and rediscovering my original child self. I also ponder many a times why I couldn't have just told my parents about this or found my voice when it happened. I can't say I know for sure but usually in Indian households, all such matters are unhealthily hushed. I just escaped from the world and participated only as much as would allow people to leave me alone. I held a lot of quiet rage against my parents for a long time because I felt they never really listened to me and today I strongly feel that children need a space/ healthy adults where they can just talk about anything that bothers them without being shushed or given the bull of society. I am still trying to figure out how much of it shaped me and what I should let go of and whether I am over reacting sometimes but when it comes to children, I wish to do for them what I did not have when it could have helped me grow through my childhood healthily.
There were other tiny incidents here and there constantly reinforcing the experience that I really couldn't trust anyone and the fact that there really is no one who can watch out for you but you. At the same time somehow even as a child I always believed people are good in essence so I tried to make attempts to understand why people behaved the way they did (this also helped me come to terms with my parents' apparent neglect) and today with years and experiences gone past, I try to see things as they are without burdening myself with good or bad.
The churn continues.
