Reclaiming Innocence

What I'm sharing today is stuff of a sensitive nature.  If like me you have learned things you'd sooner not have known, then please know that you are not alone.

When I was a child, I was exposed to things a child shouldn't have heard much less have seen.  It removed an innocence that I wasn't prepared to lose, at a very early age.  This exposure happened many times over the next several years.  

It was not abuse. I didn't find these things at home, nor was I exposed to them among family.  Peers, children my own age who had been exposed, brought them to school.  Adults who were not family members kept them in the open in living spaces and because I was there, I saw them.  You couldn't not see them.  I was the babysitter, and family didn't put those things away.  Another incident involved guests in my parent's home at a gathering of friends.  They were careless enough not to lock a door, and I walked in on them.  In junior high school a classmate was reading a book that she couldn't seem to put down.  She kept telling me how good it was.  When she finished it, she gave it to me and said, "You might like this."  What I read appalled me.  I gave her the book back, but that brief bit of reading was too much to protect the loss of further innocence.  At that age, I was bound to be exposed to something but whatever innocence I had remaining was gone forever!

This loss of innocence left me in a confused state. It made for a very ambiguous and uncomfortable state, especially as I went into my teen years with all the hormonal changes that go on with that.  Please understand that I didn't want to know the sorts of things I was exposed to.  Because of my exposure at so young an age, I had very mixed ideas about things others might view in a different way than I came to see them.

In my teens, I found myself in a place of being abused, but I managed to find my voice and put a stop to it.  However, there was no one I could tell.  No one would have believed it if I'd said and, in that era, one did not speak of such things especially in the sort of circumstance in which I was being abused.  I won't go further into it than that, but I will say that all of this led to a lot of mixed emotions.   

When I met the young man who would be my first husband, we quickly moved into a more intimate relationship than I likely would have moved into had I still had my full share of innocence.  The exposure to things I'd rather not know however, continued through those early adult years as well.  I never sought those things out.  Somehow these things were pushed into my realm of knowledge without my consent.  I often cried out to ask why I must continually be exposed to such things.

In my mid-30's, I made very important decision in my life.  I decided I'd had enough regret over what I'd lost.  I determined I would reclaim my innocence.

Now you might well ask how, as a twice married woman, one can come back to a sense of innocence.  I can't say what if what I did might work for anyone else, but I set rules for myself to follow.   This is what I did:

I absolutely refused to ever again accept that 'this is just the way things are.'

I refused point blank to be around people who treated the subject of adult relations lightly, or in a wrong manner.  

I didn't flirt nor encourage others who attempted to flirt with me.

I didn't participate in questionable conversations in a group setting with other women, most certainly not with other men and never with anyone as a one on one except my husband.

If I felt uncomfortable with someone, I avoided them.  If I found it difficult to avoid them, I went to my husband and told him I felt uncomfortable and asked him to be with me whenever the need might arise to be in the company of that person.   

Let me just say that asking John for help was a scary thing.  In the past, when things were questionable if I asked for help, I generally found myself in the position of being accused of inviting the behaviors that I found upsetting or scary or very off putting.  I had to cross that bridge called trust and believe that John would stand with me.  He said he and he always was. 

I found that prolonged eye contact, especially if I were lost in thought, could be misconstrued.  I stopped making eye contact unless I was shaking hands or in conversation with someone.  

If someone continually invaded my personal space, I would back up.  If I found they wouldn't take a hint, I'd ask them to please step back.

I refused to listen to, or read, blue jokes.  If someone insisted on telling me something while I was a captive audience, I would quickly tell them I wasn't interested and introduce a new and less controversial subject.  If they were particularly obtuse about it, I would say to them, "If you're going to insist upon speaking on these matters, I ask that you wait until I leave.  I'm not in the least interested."  

I refused to expose myself to movies and television programs that showed things of an intimate adult nature.  I did not read authors who insisted upon describing full intimacy between characters.  

I did not look at scantily clad men in person or in photos.  

It was just as important that I learn the natural balance in life to lean upon.  Talking with and being intimately involved with my husband is a good thing.  But I do not allow those things to go beyond that boundary line of being spoken of just between the two of us.  I do not share intimate details with friends.  I do not allude to our intimate relationship in front of anyone else.  John tends to lean hard on the same personal rules I set myself.  This is not something I asked him to do but that he simply followed of his own volition.  

The less I was exposed to such things, the more conscious I became of my ability to do what I'd been unable to do as a child and say "NO!" to intrusive images, thoughts and words. 

Over time, I found less and less of those objectionable things were occurring in my presence.  And when I inadvertently came across something, usually in a movie or book, I quickly closed my eyes and my mind and put that away from me.  It's easy enough to fast forward a program on television or to skip ahead a few pages in a book.  I have found that these rare occurrences often leave me feeling very embarrassed and shocked.  I no longer accept 'this is the way things are'.  That is a lie.  I have reclaimed my innocence.  It is mine and no one shall ever again take it away from me.