It happened 42 years ago, but every detail is as stark as if it happened yesterday. I was 14 years old, walking home from junior high school, books in my left hand, my violin case in my right.
I cry now for the young girl that I was — I never told a soul what happened because it seemed so very small…even though the horror was so large and engulfing. So quick, like lightening, a man walking toward me, in a suit, reached out his left hand and cupped my crotch, squeezing and then he was gone.
What had I done wrong? I couldn’t understand anything about the incident except I felt really dirty, felt I now had a horrible secret. And I didn’t even stop for a second. I gripped my violin case’s handle as hard as I could, pulled the stack of textbooks tightly against my chest and walked the remaining 6 blocks home.
My mom made me an afternoon snack, and I did my homework. I always got “A’s.” I was never the same after that afternoon, never felt truly carefree again and always held a guilt that I couldn’t “get over it.”
I am so grateful I can tell this story. Maybe the shadowy outline of the monster man will fade a little now because the women who made this site possible would never tell me that what happened was “nothing,” or wonder why a 56 year old woman is crying like a little girl right now as she relives that day. Are these tears of relief? sorrow? anger? How I wish I had…..
Submitted by MVH on 8/13/2011
Location: Wisconsin Avenue, Bethesda, MD
Time of harassment: Day Time (9:30A-3:30P)
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