Reading about somebody's stalker, and whose mother is so blase about protecting her daughter, kind of resurfaced some feelings I have about something that happened to me as a teen. I am sitting here with my heart pounding because I feel so angry about this.
I will try to tell this in as few words as possible.
When I was a teen, I met a guy 3 years older. He pursued me and made me feel like a million bucks, he was gorgeous and very cool and clever and had a million friends. I fell for him pretty hard. Within a few weeks I'd heard he'd gotten back together with his girlfriend. So apparently he'd just hooked up with me when they were having a fight, but he didn't bother to tell me. I was not his girlfriend. Unfortunately I was already really hooked.
He would show me just enough interest to keep me hooked. Like, he'd push me away but then get drunk and confess he really loved me and not his girlfriend, and he should break up with her and be with me. I was 17. You get it?
My mother also found him charming. She invited him to live in our house, RENT FREE. Hey, he's always looking for a deal, so of course he packed h is bags and moved out of his apartment.
After several months of heartache and waiting and becoming so obsessed I centered my life around him, I finally, finally, finally understood that he was never going to be with me. This happened after he finally broke up with his girlfriend for real, and instead of going out with me, he started hooking up with some girl still in high school. (I was 17 but had graduated already). After that I asked him to leave our house. He didn't.
My mother did not do anything. My father didn't either. My father didn't like him, didn't even talk to him, but my father is a passive guy and just goes along with my mother. I feel the most anger toward my mother but honestly my father is equally culpable. They just let this guy live there while my life was on hold. I dropped out of college. I quit my job. I spent that spring and summer taking my car to a certain parking lot, sitting there with the windows open, and reading books. Because I could not go home, he was either there or could come home any second. I could not live in my own house, my parents didn't make it safe for me.
I escalated things in desperation to get this guy out. I am not proud of this, but I painted on this guy's door "RAPIST" in red paint. He did not rape me but he did use me, I slept with him a couple times hoping he'd be with me, you know? I was that freaking desperate. And I felt used. Anyway, I painted this word on a door in my parents' house. Later I found my father with a can of paint thinner, working to get the paint off the door. HE SAID NOTHING. My mother said nothing. They did not ask if this guy raped me. They did not ask if this guy hurt me. They did not tell the guy to get the hell out. They didn't even give him 30 days. They just ignored it. I am shaking as I write this. I have a daughter and I can't IMAGINE just ignoring that kind of behavior from her.
When that didn't work, I packed up my car and "ran away." I intended to go to this city about 6 hours away and, I don't know, get a job there? I had no idea what I was doing. I didn't know anybody at that city. While I was driving there, I swerved to avoid hitting a family of possums on the highway; I was doing 75 and it was raining. I hydroplaned and ended up in the grass median. It was 2am. I was stuck in the mud and could not get my car out. This was in the days before cell phones. I was completely trapped. A good samaritan came along and went and got a tow truck for me. Thank god for him. Obviously I was terrified of even this guy, but I was stuck, and he turned out to be a really good guy. I went home after I got unstuck. Nobody sat down and talked with me. Nobody kicked the guy out.
Next, I ran away to this guy's home city, where I'd been once. This city was a 24 hour drive away. I drove it straight through by myself. This time I had a place to stay, this guy's friend. I didn't really understand what I was doing at the time, but it was no coincidence that I chose this guy's city and friends. I wasn't trying to get closer to him. I was trying to lure him back to his home. Understand? I hoped I could maybe try to infringe on his "territory" a little bit like he'd been MAJORLY infringing on mine, and tempt him to come back so I could go home again. Probably he knew I was trying to tempt him, but maybe he thought I was trying to be with him. He continued to live in my parent's house and got a girlfriend and a new backup. (I guess that was his MO, a girlfriend and a backup, but the backup isn't really a backup even if she thinks she is).
Anyway, my parents did squat. I never managed to get a job or apartment in that other city, ran out of funds, and came home, terrified that my $30 would run out before I got home (I bought a single slice of pizza to feed myself at one place, and the guy there for some reason seemed to sense my desperation and he gave me a whole medium for the cost of the slice, I thank god for him too - I ate that pizza all the way home).
Eventually the guy moved out, on his own accord. Now I spent my time in my room all day instead of in my car. It took me months to recover. My parents didn't say or do anything except hint I should get a job.
It sounds like I was raised by some callous parents, and that was seriously callous. But what was more shocking to me is that they really weren't. My mom raised me AP. I am their only child. I didn't get lost in the shuffle. I don't know what the hell happened. But they chose this charming jerk over me. Again and again, they chose him.
The epilogue of this story is that this charming jerk found my mom on Facebook recently. He apparently considers her kind of his second mother. I found his blog and he thanked her for letting him stay there despite "her daughter" campaigning to kick him out. My mother, too, seems to feel like he's a lost soul, and likes the idea of him being sort of an adoptive son. There's just weird stuff, like apparently he went back to where we used to live (again, a 24 hour drive from his home city) and took pictures of our old house. He sent them to my mom.
He did write me and apologize. That's fine. I'm not angry at him anymore. I'm not kidding myself, he was still a jerk, but he was also young too and seems to have realized he was wrong. I've moved on, he's moved on, fine.
But my mother. I kind of want to confront her about it. After all these years, I kind of feel like "oh, just let it go." But I feel like she betrayed me in a major way. I don't need her protection anymore, so why should I dwell on this now?
I will try to tell this in as few words as possible.
When I was a teen, I met a guy 3 years older. He pursued me and made me feel like a million bucks, he was gorgeous and very cool and clever and had a million friends. I fell for him pretty hard. Within a few weeks I'd heard he'd gotten back together with his girlfriend. So apparently he'd just hooked up with me when they were having a fight, but he didn't bother to tell me. I was not his girlfriend. Unfortunately I was already really hooked.
He would show me just enough interest to keep me hooked. Like, he'd push me away but then get drunk and confess he really loved me and not his girlfriend, and he should break up with her and be with me. I was 17. You get it?
My mother also found him charming. She invited him to live in our house, RENT FREE. Hey, he's always looking for a deal, so of course he packed h is bags and moved out of his apartment.
After several months of heartache and waiting and becoming so obsessed I centered my life around him, I finally, finally, finally understood that he was never going to be with me. This happened after he finally broke up with his girlfriend for real, and instead of going out with me, he started hooking up with some girl still in high school. (I was 17 but had graduated already). After that I asked him to leave our house. He didn't.
My mother did not do anything. My father didn't either. My father didn't like him, didn't even talk to him, but my father is a passive guy and just goes along with my mother. I feel the most anger toward my mother but honestly my father is equally culpable. They just let this guy live there while my life was on hold. I dropped out of college. I quit my job. I spent that spring and summer taking my car to a certain parking lot, sitting there with the windows open, and reading books. Because I could not go home, he was either there or could come home any second. I could not live in my own house, my parents didn't make it safe for me.
I escalated things in desperation to get this guy out. I am not proud of this, but I painted on this guy's door "RAPIST" in red paint. He did not rape me but he did use me, I slept with him a couple times hoping he'd be with me, you know? I was that freaking desperate. And I felt used. Anyway, I painted this word on a door in my parents' house. Later I found my father with a can of paint thinner, working to get the paint off the door. HE SAID NOTHING. My mother said nothing. They did not ask if this guy raped me. They did not ask if this guy hurt me. They did not tell the guy to get the hell out. They didn't even give him 30 days. They just ignored it. I am shaking as I write this. I have a daughter and I can't IMAGINE just ignoring that kind of behavior from her.
When that didn't work, I packed up my car and "ran away." I intended to go to this city about 6 hours away and, I don't know, get a job there? I had no idea what I was doing. I didn't know anybody at that city. While I was driving there, I swerved to avoid hitting a family of possums on the highway; I was doing 75 and it was raining. I hydroplaned and ended up in the grass median. It was 2am. I was stuck in the mud and could not get my car out. This was in the days before cell phones. I was completely trapped. A good samaritan came along and went and got a tow truck for me. Thank god for him. Obviously I was terrified of even this guy, but I was stuck, and he turned out to be a really good guy. I went home after I got unstuck. Nobody sat down and talked with me. Nobody kicked the guy out.
Next, I ran away to this guy's home city, where I'd been once. This city was a 24 hour drive away. I drove it straight through by myself. This time I had a place to stay, this guy's friend. I didn't really understand what I was doing at the time, but it was no coincidence that I chose this guy's city and friends. I wasn't trying to get closer to him. I was trying to lure him back to his home. Understand? I hoped I could maybe try to infringe on his "territory" a little bit like he'd been MAJORLY infringing on mine, and tempt him to come back so I could go home again. Probably he knew I was trying to tempt him, but maybe he thought I was trying to be with him. He continued to live in my parent's house and got a girlfriend and a new backup. (I guess that was his MO, a girlfriend and a backup, but the backup isn't really a backup even if she thinks she is).
Anyway, my parents did squat. I never managed to get a job or apartment in that other city, ran out of funds, and came home, terrified that my $30 would run out before I got home (I bought a single slice of pizza to feed myself at one place, and the guy there for some reason seemed to sense my desperation and he gave me a whole medium for the cost of the slice, I thank god for him too - I ate that pizza all the way home).
Eventually the guy moved out, on his own accord. Now I spent my time in my room all day instead of in my car. It took me months to recover. My parents didn't say or do anything except hint I should get a job.
It sounds like I was raised by some callous parents, and that was seriously callous. But what was more shocking to me is that they really weren't. My mom raised me AP. I am their only child. I didn't get lost in the shuffle. I don't know what the hell happened. But they chose this charming jerk over me. Again and again, they chose him.
The epilogue of this story is that this charming jerk found my mom on Facebook recently. He apparently considers her kind of his second mother. I found his blog and he thanked her for letting him stay there despite "her daughter" campaigning to kick him out. My mother, too, seems to feel like he's a lost soul, and likes the idea of him being sort of an adoptive son. There's just weird stuff, like apparently he went back to where we used to live (again, a 24 hour drive from his home city) and took pictures of our old house. He sent them to my mom.
He did write me and apologize. That's fine. I'm not angry at him anymore. I'm not kidding myself, he was still a jerk, but he was also young too and seems to have realized he was wrong. I've moved on, he's moved on, fine.
But my mother. I kind of want to confront her about it. After all these years, I kind of feel like "oh, just let it go." But I feel like she betrayed me in a major way. I don't need her protection anymore, so why should I dwell on this now?
I gotta get some friends and bore them instead!
