Being touched by anyone inappropriately and without permission at a young age by someone else should never have to happen. Sadly, it does and many suffer for years if not a lifetime because of it. Unfortunately, molestation is a real problem and many never find the courage to speak up about it due to fear. I’m grateful to God that I’ve been able to conquer that fear and am here to share my painful story about being molested and how I found healing from it.
I didn’t understand anything about the birds and the bees as a child. My parents didn’t show much affection at all in front of my sister and I. There never were any discussions about sex or what it involved. Frankly, I’m not even sure if I understood where I came from and on some naive level I think I believed that I came in a stork’s beak and was delivered to my parents front door! I was utterly and completely oblivious to anything that dealt with human sexuality. By the time I reached 12 years old, the only thing I knew was that I liked to stare at certain types of men and my private parts at times got stimulated because of it.
In school around that age, I didn’t have any friends to hang around with. My best friends were solely the books I read, the superhero fantasies I lived in, and the water I swam through every single day in swim practice for the team I was on. I was a good swimmer and my parents knew it. They pushed me to keep doing it even though there were times I really despised the several hours a day I was in a pool. It did help me to pass the time by which normally might have been occupied with friends, if I had them. I kept to myself a lot because of it and one of the coaches seemed to take notice of that. There were two teams with two sets of coaches where I practiced. There was the swim team and the diving team. One of those particular coaches on the diving team was someone I stared at a lot. Today I can say that my staring at people like this coach was my initial attempts at coming to understand who I was attracted to, but back then, I had no idea.
I don’t remember when it all specifically started, but at some point when practices ended and I was in the open showers, this diving coach began to bathe directly next to me naked. I never was one much for being nude around others and generally bathed in these open showers with my swimsuit still on. At first I didn’t think it was strange that this much older man was bathing next to me. But as time passed though, I began to wonder why he was always showering next to me when there were 11 other ones open to bathe under. I can’t say for sure what he noticed me doing as I showered next to him, but I’m sure he did see my eyes wander a few times and there was the possibility that since I had just hit puberty, he might have seen me get slightly aroused. In the weeks that followed, he eventually started talking to me while he showered. I can still remember him asking me if I wanted to borrow his soap. Most of the rest of those conversations and interactions I’ve blanked out and can’t remember anymore. That’s probably a good thing. One other thing I do recollect though was him asking me if I ever needed a ride to practice as he had a van and often picked up and dropped off other children. Thankfully, I, nor my parents ever did take him up on that offer.
On one particular practice not too long after he began offering me rides, I really began wondering if I was making all this up in my head and creating some fabrication that this man in his 40’s liked me more than just a friend. On some level, my brain was being stimulated because it was the beginnings of my sexual identity. On another level, my spirit and soul was detecting the wrongness of what was happening. Because of my childlike curiosity to always figure out the truth, I left practice early one day complaining of shoulder pain. When I went into the locker room, I took a quick glance over at the diving pool and then went in to take my shower. Some of what I remember that happened next is very vivid even to this day. Other parts are foggy and probably always will be for my own protection. I remember that diving coach coming into the locker room just as I was about to change into my clothes. I remember being asked why I had left practice early. I remember him placing his hands on my shoulders directly behind me telling me he can make them feel better. And I remember him beginning to touch me in other areas that shouldn’t have been touched by him. The last thing I remember was being held over his knee, spanked and touched some more all because I had said something to him that came out of the fear I was in over what was happening in those moments.
I can still see myself running to my father’s car after that experience, getting into the front seat and bawling. I can still see myself telling him what happened and the anger that arose within him towards that man because of it. I can even still see him leaving me sitting in the car as he went in to have a conversation with this man. When all was said and done, my father asked if I wanted to press charges against that diving coach. I was too afraid to do so and said I didn’t want to. Today I wonder how many others suffered at this man’s hands and sometimes have wished I had been stronger back then to have pressed charges. The only thing that did end up happening was his being kicked off the coaching staff and me never seeing him again. The last thing I remember was my father telling me that this coach claimed it had all been just “locker room fun” and that “everyone did it”. To me, it was anything but fun and it haunted me for most of my young adult life.
The incident and all my experiences with that man were squashed down by my parents and by me as time passed. It was never talked about again. But it did a tremendous amount of damage to me. That was my first sexual experience in my life, and because I didn’t understand anything about sexuality, my brain took those behaviors as normal. The result was me growing up with fantasies of being dominated by others sexually and never learning what true love and intimacy were.
Talk therapy never did much to help me bring up this pain and walk through it. Books I read about molestation didn’t help much either. But an organization I joined back in 1999, the ManKind Project, found the one path that did work and provided me the desperate help I needed to heal from that childhood trauma. Other men in this organization, who I today refer to as my “brothers”, set up a re-enactment with someone playing the part of that diving coach. Using that coaches words and gestures I had remembered as part of the trauma, I was brought back in time in a safe way to confront and “kill off” this demon of a man that still lived inside me, and in some way, still owned a part of me too. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to go through in my life for the 30 minutes I took part in this exercise in healing. But it worked. Oh, boy, did it work!
After it was over, I noticed I wasn’t angry anymore at either myself for letting it happen, or at this man who had violated me. Those feelings of anger never have returned either. As many years have now passed since then, I have worked on healing with my sexuality because I never quite understood what true intimacy was due to being molested. I’m grateful I now have a partner today who loves me unconditionally and is helping me to foster better ideals in what intimacy should have always been for me.
Whether I was attracted to that diving coach or not should never have warranted the actions that came out of it. I was molested by a man at least 30 years older than me and it caused me great pain, hardship, and suffering for much of my life. Thankfully God intervened and provided me guidance on how to heal from it. It’s my hope that in sharing my story here, others who have been molested might somehow find comfort in knowing there is healing from this and maybe theirs can begin now.
Peace, love, light, and joy,
Andrew Arthur Dawson
Hi, I do believe this is a great web site. I stumbledupon it 😉 I am going to return once again since i have book marked it. Money and freedom is the best way to change, may you be rich and continue to help others.
I like it when people come together and share views like this. Great site, stick with it!