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Somebody’s Daughter
I have been struggling with this one a bit. I feel someone will ask me how I can be anything but outraged by my own memory when I have children of my own. Am I prepared to romanticize a similar relationship in their situation, as my perspective on my own is so clearly skewed?
And the answer is no. But that doesn’t change the story.
I was seventeen.
When you think about it, that’s about the age that we start to really push back against our parents, as we struggle to find our way. The year that I turned seventeen was the year that I was the most at odds that I would ever be with my father. I had fallen in love with the sweetest boy in the world, and lost him, and like many girls do, I thought I would never recover. I replaced that boy with anyone not-so-sweet that I could find. My father made my dates show ID at the door, and turned away anyone he didn’t approve of, so I lied about where I was going, and since I worked late in the evening, sometimes I just didn’t come home. I had my own money, my grades were acceptable if not outstanding, but at night I was sitting in my car in a parking lot flipping spent cigarette butts out the window and making long, red oozing cuts in my wrists and my thighs with a cheap stainless-steel butterfly knife so the rest of me would stop hurting. My father finally told me that I had become such an accomplished liar he could no longer know when I was telling the truth – and he was done trying. And I don’t blame him.
I wanted to be myself, and I wanted to be anyone but who I was.
So it was, on my seventeenth birthday, that I found myself at a party full of girls who were underage, and young men who were not. I had gone there at the insistence of a friend, mostly to be her alibi, as she was spending the night with just about the dumbest boy I have ever met before or since. I was out of my element, which always makes me anti-social – because you can’t fire me – I quit. I spent most of my time on the fringe, chain-smoking and trying to look as disinterested as possible, even as I was surrounded by the two demographics of people who thrive most on attention.
I spent the night on a couch in a room that had very little heat. We were outside the city limits, and I was too drunk to trust myself to find the right road, so I initially agreed to share a bed with the friend and her boyfriend. This arrangement left me repeatedly pushing the boyfriend’s hands away from various parts of me until, when I turned to whisper STOP! his eyes fluttered open and he gave the best performance of his life as he said loudly “What are WE doing? I must have thought you were Leslie.” Which is when I moved out into the cold.
At some point later, a blanket was dropped over me and I opened my eyes and there stood an actual man. Not of the same ilk that I’d been dealing with all night, he was holding a bottled beer and looking very much at home leaning against a chair across from me. Handsome enough, lean and blonde and mustached in blue jeans and boots, but nothing that would make a high-school girl swoon. Older. Significantly older.
Paying attention to me.
“Thought you might be cold out here.” he offered.
I just rolled my eyes and mumbled something about “Not sleepin’ in there with that asshole.”
He smiled like he knew. “This is my house – sleep where you want.” and he was gone.
So I did. Two weeks later, I went back.
He knew I was seventeen. Because I told him. But he didn’t send me away.
He did own the house. I am unclear on how it became a drunken crash pad on the weekends that it did, but it didn’t matter. Two stories of musty rooms a few miles west of town, surrounded by unkempt land and a crumbling horse barn. We walked. And talked. And talked some more. He made us lunch and we ate while we walked and talked even more. Eager for someone to listen, I told him everything. Everything. He looked at my eyes when I spoke instead of pawing at me or dismissing me or looking like I was a head case, like the boys my age tended to. Told me, I assume honestly, what he thought.
He told me I was smart, which I knew. And beautiful, which I did not.
He was thirty-five years old. He was at Woodstock, which was all I really needed to hear. Had been married and divorced, and had depth, which I craved. I loved to hear him talk and I listened for hours. We read the same books. I made him laugh until he couldn’t breathe, which made me feel like I had won the lottery. He wrote poetry, because of course he did. He had a subtle, sarcastic wit, and I got it.
I mattered.
He was my friend.
We liked each other. That’s all.
Well, not quite all. There was that. He was not my Humbert Humbert. He was not my Christian Grey or Big Bad Wolf to my Little Red Riding Hood. He never said he loved me, never promised me a future. Never coerced, or manipulated. There is not one single memory of that intimacy that makes me uncomfortable. I do not feel like a victim. When it happened, it seemed right. It seemed normal.
But it couldn’t have been.
We saw each other until I graduated from high school.
I find, now that I am a decade older than he was when I knew him, that I see him as a young man. I have to force myself to judge him – to judge myself. What could a seventeen old girl possibly have to say that would interest a thirty-five year old man, besides “yes”? He had to have been in it solely for the piece of near-underage ass. Right? Right? How could I have been so stupid?
I couldn’t have mattered. Right?
As a parent, I can promise that I would cheerfully eviscerate any adult of that age that had a relationship of this nature with my teenage daughter, or son. There is no rational reason, no extenuating circumstance that makes that relationship okay. A teenager should not be interacting at that level with someone whose life experience places them at such an intellectual and emotional disadvantage.
Except I did. And while I can’t bear to think about the outcome had my father learned of it, he was who I ran to when it all got to be too much. He never sent me away.
I was somebody’s daughter.
But not his. He was just a man.
Am I okay? Yes, I believe I am. The consequences of the choices we make at seventeen can follow us for the rest of our lives. We are surrounded by people whose lives have taken destructive turns from a poor decision made at an age when they didn’t have the perspective to make a better one. All I have from that time is a controversial story to tell. I was a long way from maturity, sometimes I still am, but I cannot – will not – malign him with implications of perversion or my own “daddy issues.”
As I write this, I find myself mentally reshuffling the deck of memories. He was most definitely a much-needed anchor for me. I also have to acknowledge that he should have never become intimate with me. But if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have stayed. Is it possible that two fractured people making a questionable decision kept me from making a more destructive one?
I don’t know what made him choose me. He caught me when I was in free fall. Where might I have gone, if he had sent me away?
I’m sorry you had to go through this. 😦
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You are sweet. Thanks for reading!
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I love the women & the stories shared here so I was happy to. Still, I wish you all the best now & in the future because it seems you haven’t had it easy, much like myself. Take care & I wish you love.
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Being that age, it is difficult. Here you are leagaly allowed to have sex when you are 16. Would all of it had happend when you were 21 it would not have seemed so controversial.
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Funny because when I first started writing this, I was of the opinion that it wasn’t worth telling. Then I was talking to a friend, and her response was “YOU DID WHAT? HE WAS HOW OLD?” and I thought damn, I am messed up. 🙂 Thank you for reading and commenting.
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I think this is a delicate, sublime, thoughtful telling of your story. I read it and I feel conflicted. There is not always a clear line of right and wrong. Yes, if you were my daughter I would kill him. But when I think of who I was at 17? Yes, I could see this scenario so plainly and clearly. And I do think he was interested in you. He may have been a lost soul who found a much needed connection. (That sounds awful to say as a mother, but as a woman and a human I see it).
You said that two fractured people making a questionable decision perhaps kept you from more self destruction… that’s the line that took my breath away. Sometimes the things that happen aren’t perfect or “right” but sometimes they do serve a purpose that we couldn’t possibly be aware of at the time. And you say you feel no bad feelings about this relationship? That says it all. I absolutely love this and I love when people can explore the gray areas of life.
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I could copy and paste Gretchen’s entire comment. I wanted to be able to draw a line in the sand with this story, to form a concrete opinion, but I’m left feeling that under your circumstances, this is one of those life experiences that was put there for a reason. We may not agree with it. We may not understand it. But we will examine it and try to find how it influenced our life. I can think of many things in my life that were at their core “bad”, but that I can see a clear cut way that it shaped my life for the better.
You’re a brilliant writer, and I respect the bejesus out of you. xoxo
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Beth, you snuck in there while I was responding to Gretchen. 🙂 And yes, I know what you mean. It is my hope that if nothing else, I have the perspective to help when my kids get to be that age. I totally love and respect you too. Mwah!
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You are sweet – as I said up there, I was just telling a story until I got some reactions from friends, then I got all caught up in “do I just not see it?” which is where the idea came from in the first place. I love you for supporting me, Gretchen! I think – and this is the tough part – just recognizing, as a parent, that this is a time when kids can’t handle intense emotions. We don’t need to solve the problem, we don’t need to be reactionaries, we need to understand that sometimes something teenage and silly to us is HUGE at that age. Just making it ok to feel it would go a long ways toward bridging that gap. Perhaps I am kidding myself….
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Ditto, Gretchen. Life happens the way it does for a reason. I like that SH can accept and not condemn her past. She is able to forgive both herself and her Humbert for living out what they both needed at the time. And yes, I do have a daughter and I would have been very distraught but would not condemn her either for her history. We all have our dark moments and grey areas.
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I agree with Gretchen. Yes, he was double your age. But from how you tell your story, I think the two of you had a genuine connection. He seems sincere, and you don’t have bad memories. You wonder at what you could have said at 17 that would interest a 35 year old man; I don’t think that’s necessarily so hard to imagine. Maybe this is naive and controversial, but it seems to me there was a depth and understanding in your relationship which saved you from making choices which could have had worse consequences.
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And that is what I felt, too. As I said, I hid the relationship for obvious reasons, but never questioned his intentions until I started talking about it. Thank you for reading and responding!
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Reblogged this on That Shameless Hussy.
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*** He was not my Humbert Humbert. He was not my Christian Grey or Big Bad Wolf to my Little Red Riding Hood***
Nice line.
Still, at 35, I wonder how broken he was to find connection and conversation w/ a 17 year old. I find that quite interesting & heartbreaking at the same time.
Thank you for sharing this. I love reading authentic writing! xx
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Thank you for reading! I don’t think I can answer the question of his relative brokenness, as my perspective is skewed. We all like to think we are super mature and interesting at that age (or at least I did), I find I want to go back and talk to him at the age I am now. 🙂
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I think you have to stop questioning – there will always be people ready to condemn you, no matter what you do in life. No matter what we all do, there’s someone who thinks we’re wrong.
I think Gretchen and Beth put it best. I probably don’t have enough wisdom to really offer anything sensible by way of contribution to the whole, but I do think that there’s no reason that a 35 year old and a 17 year old couldn’t connect on SO much more than ‘yes’ – even if sometimes her head is full of teenageriness. There’s still sufficient character and life experience and THOUGHT to make her interesting in her own right.
No need to beat yourself up. And as to your perspective as a parent – that’s fine too. The two don’t need to be mutually exclusive. It’s a whole different ballgame.
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Thank you, Lizzi! I always love to hear your perspective. This whole idea started because I was talking about Monday’s post and explaining that I had a story too, and the reactions were so mixed, and some of them very intense. It made me question whether my memories were accurate. 🙂 Thanks for being so supportive, as always!
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I think people’s reactions to things will often be intense, but that might well be more to do with them than you, yaknow? Like, stuff in their past might well be coming into play and clouding their ability to be objective and evaluate the circumstances in an unbiased way.
Your memories are probably as accurate as anyone’s memories are, but I hope that you feel a bit easier about those memories now, having had the chance to air your thoughts with people who’ve (hopefully) all been able to give you supportive, compassionate feedback 🙂
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There’s something sweet about this story even though it has that forbidden edge. It sounds like you benefited from the relationship, ultimately. Did he wait until you were 18? You said he waited until you graduated and to me that seems like he was making a conscious decision to make it a legitimate affair. He possibly provided you with friendship and a confidante that you wouldn’t have found with anyone else at that time. Great post, Shameless. You’ve really shared a poignant piece here.
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We were involved from when I was 17 until I graduated. And yes, he did provide those things. Thank you for reading and taking the time to comment! 🙂
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I could see this so clearly in my head as I read it. And yes, from a parental standpoint, I would just be murderous if I had a daughter that age running around with a 35 year old. I dated a 32 year old very briefly when I was 18. Age really didn’t play into it for me at that time. So, from that point of view, I get it as well. I also wanted to draw that line and found I couldn’t. I think that, while conventionally the relationship might have been taboo, it’s pretty clear that it served a very needed purpose for you at that time. You needed someone to ground you, to SEE you. And he did that. That’s beautiful in a way. Thanks for sharing the gray areas!
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“You needed someone to SEE you.” I like that. Thanks for bein’ my partner this week! You are amazing!
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hmmm i understand it perfectly, i met my partner when i was 17 and he was 29, i am now 22, is is almost 35 and we are bout to celebrate our 5 anniversary and have been engaged for four years, we have just moved into a new town in a new house, we are happy and settled, my mother called him a pervert and my sister called him a pedophile, which broke my heart as he is none of those things, he is the sweetest, romantic, kindest man you could ever meet. So sometimes love is an extenuating circumstance and can work out for the good 🙂
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I do believe that. Yeah, the pedophile thing. Not even close, certainly not in your case, or in mine. Thank you for sharing your thoughts!
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It’s interesting how our perspectives change as we age… When I was 17 I knew I was the smartest person in my life, and I knew exactly how my life was going to turn out. Every decision I made was the right one.
Now that I’ve lived twice as long, I know how little wisdom I actually had at 17.
However, that doesn’t mean that the decisions I made then were wrong, just that my attidue about them at the time was wrong.
The ages our society sets for certain “milestones” can seem so arbitrary… at 16 you can legally drive a car, but, you can’t vote or buy cigarettes until you are 18? and drink until you are 21? But, the people who run the numbers for insurance know that you aren’t really mature enough to be considered “safe” until you are 25…
And, after finally realizing I wasn’t invincible and immortal, having felt like an adult at 18 only to realize how young and naive I was, I didn’t feel like an adult again until last year, a couple months after my son was born…
I understand the need for societal standards around these things, but we shouldn’t hold ourselves to them so strictly, because we all mature at different times and for different reasons.
The way you wrote this story, the age difference seemed insignificant… I’m certainly not judging either of you for the nature of your relationship….
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Thanks, Matticus, I was hoping to get some male perspective. It does depend on the person(s) involved. Our respective maturities notwithstanding, over time the age difference would have become less important, had we not parted ways. Thanks for taking the time to read and comment. Always good to hear from you!
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Seventeen is a tough age – not a child, not a legal adult. I had a relationship with a man about that same age when I was 17 but I do regret the intimacy. Looking back now I feel like I was taken advantage of because he knew all the sordid details of my life and still thought that sex with me was a good idea. I wanted a friend, I wanted to feel special but sex had to be a part of it because neither of us knew any different. That’s why I don’t want my daughter to get into that kind of relationship when she’s that young. I want her to know that there are other choices, other ways to feel emotion, other ways to find friendship. I didn’t know that at 17. I love the way you wrote about this.
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Thank you Karen! The part about how I wouldn’t have stayed had there not been intimacy is a window into my teenage psyche. I also want my daughter to have the self confidence to make the right choices regarding intimacy. Thank you for reading and taking the time to share your thoughts!
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I feel ya, Hussy. I remember a similar relationship when I was that age.
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The shared experience thing happens to us a lot. Are we the same person? 🙂 Thank you for reading! ❤
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I read your post with great interest. 🙂 This is one of your life’s questions that likely will never be resolved, and perhaps that’s best.
Thanks for sharing your experience.
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Lynette, I always appreciate your comments and support! Thanks for reading!
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I know this is such a overused catch phrase, but I think it has great validity here for both of you at the time. “What ever gets you through the night.” Sadly, had you been 18 at the time, the issue of being a pedophile would be of no concern now. Not that it concerns you. May/December, yes. Pedophile, no. He many not have been your Humbert, but the age difference surely gave that appearance to others. It must have been difficult to know his heart as you felt you did and see other judging that heart which gave you so much comfort and security. As a father, yeah, I would have wanted to kick his butt. But I understand it.
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As a parent, I feel the same way. Thanks for reading, Dan.
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Thanks for writing it. It took a lot of courage and compassion to write from that viewpoint and you have a really fantastic community to show you that same compassion for such a socially condemned subject. You’re a Brave Hussy.
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I dated/was intimate with older men from the time I was 16-years-old on. Some were in college, some were a bit older, some were teachers in their 30’s. I never felt taken advantage of – I knew my own mind and what I wanted. If any of the men had been arrested or charged with statutory rape, I would have been outraged – because it wasn’t rape – I was a consenting, nearly-adult. Would I want my child to do the same thing? Obviously not – we look at our 16 & 17-year-olds and want to protect them from making mistakes or getting hurt. Perhaps it is hypocritical – because I remember that I felt like an adult and very capable of making my own decisions – so shouldn’t I treat my children the same way? But then again, I didn’t always make the best decisions (as several unplanned pregnancies and a disastrous first marriage would prove that).
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I know, Jana – I’m hoping I can find a way to keep my kids on my radar well enough to protect them. I know that my dad didn’t mean to drive me away. But I do hope to learn from his, and my experience – and maybe they can make fewer bad decisions than I did. Thank you for reading and commenting.
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There is such a fine line between what might break us, and what might save us. 17…such a fragile soul at 17💗💗
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Dude. Way to cut to the chase. I could have skipped writing this and just posted that. Thanks! ❤
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A lot of girls at 17 are very grown in some ways and less in others. If you feel okay than it isn’t anybody’s business to tell you you’re not I guess. I would worry about my daughter forging and intimate relationship with someone so much older at such a young age. I went to great lengths to make sure my daughter had all the love and understanding she needed while she was growing. I know from experience that when girls don’t get what they need at home they seek it elsewhere. I am glad that the person you encountered was otherwise decent and good to you. No shame in that. 🙂
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You captured it, Dani – “make sure my daughter had all the love and understanding she needed,” – daunting task. And at risk of opening up a whole ‘nother can of worms – he was decent to me. But a man of that age knows how to separate sex from attachment. And that is one thing I learned from that relationship – at 17. Thanks for reading and commenting.
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It is the age-old question… just because somebody says yes doesn’t make it right… but a real man would have known that.
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Hi, Art! I know, I know – I would feel the same way, were it my daughter. There are things about this situation that I see differently now, but you know what they say about hindsight. Thanks for reading, and writing, as always! 🙂
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oh no… thank you… and I have two daughters, and I used to be a young, single man… so… uh… yeah…
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Incredible, wonderfully honest. Some 17 year olds are wiser than their years, and some 35 year olds younger. Sometimes people just meet in the middle, without malice, without manipulation. Yes, as a mother, I would be outraged. There are obvious power dynamics involved. But as a woman, I get it, and the seventeen year old in me gets it too. If you were only a year older, there would be no legal issue. I often look at older men with very young women and wonder where they connect. This story helped me realize that sometimes, it’s genuine.
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Sometimes people do meet in the middle, for a moment or so in time. 🙂 Thank you for reading.
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You were 17 but you’d depth that could interest a 35yo, I don’t believe it was the ‘near underaged ass’ rather sth extraordinary in a sea of ordinary fishes that enthralled him else he’d have sent you away or abused you. He made you happy, feel good, developed your mind away from delinquent acts…isn’t that what eventually trumps it all? I can relate to all this save the parent part which makes one overprotective & your current age…sometimes age is just a number.
Just a 23yo’s opinion, nice piece.
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Thank you! It was a n interesting time for me to revisit, and I appreciate your perspective – sometimes age *is* just a number. 🙂
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Oh wow. I never thought I could look at the 17/35 age difference with anything but ‘it’s wrong’. I do think that a 35 year old who is sexually active with a child is a predator..but I also understand what you are saying..what if.
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Thanks Michelle! After all of my angsty silliness that I have after I write stuff like this, I’m glad I got to take a second look. Thank you for reading!
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Gretchen totally and completely took everything I had to say to you and put it in much better and more beautiful words than I ever could. Love ya Hussy
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Now I’m just pissed and I’m deleting Gretchen’s comment so you all sound crazy….
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