I remember being in my house with a friend, we were only about 16 or 17 years old. There was this man, a heavy-set guy, and he had a woman on the ground, hitting her and tearing at her sari. We were yelling from the window, "Leave her alone! Come on man!" but he ain't hear us. He just kept tearing at her clothes and she was crying and screaming. There was a policeman across the street just watching. He wouldn't say anything to the guy; would NOT stop him. He told us to shut up and move from the window. We were just kids, man. Nothing we could do. I felt so bad. - My dad.
It's Called "Hebephile"
I've lived in Barcelona basically all my adult life. My first husband was a doctor. He was Catalan actually, but we met in England. He was doing a residency at the hospital I worked at as an x-ray technician. When we met I was dating his good friend, another doctor. Oh, we fell in love soooo quickly! He was an amazing, very charismatic guy. When he was leaving England, I left too, and have been living here ever since. I didn't realize he was a pedophile until after we had our second child. I knew something was going on but I thought he was just messing around. Then a 14 year old neighbor tried to tell me that he had abused her, but he was so charming and so... such a good man, I just never thought... A few years later I caught him--I caught him!-- with the babysitter. She was about 15. I divorced him after that. I mean, it took a lot of back and forth, but eventually we divorced. I never told anyo-- well, I told a few close friends of his and mine. None of them believed me. They took his side and just called me bitter and a liar, because through all this he was cheating with other women. I never went to the police. Never reported it. -50 something English woman I befriended at the airport.
2 comments:
I feel sad for your father that he had to experience something like that.
Things were so different in my mother's childhood, 'race' was not an issue.
That abuser man in the second story was so charming and sly...his wife didn't believe the young girl next door, then HER friends didn't believe her.
There's a movie about healing that you might like, it's from India but you can find it with subtitles...it's called Dor. It really is good, not the usual Bollywood fare.
So true, the cycle you pointed out: she didn't believe the neighbor, then her friends didn't believe her. It's all about consequences and I just wonder about the fate of this man... the father of her children. That had to play a role in her decision to not go to the police.
Re: Race Riots, this shocked me, because it was the first time either of my parents had talked about it. I think their recent trips to Guyana have been healing in some respect. BTW, did you hear I'm coming in December? Tickets already purchased...
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