I don't like to keep grudges. But I think I do, until at least someone genuinely apologizes. But lately I realized that in some cases, an apology should not be accepted. I learn as I grow.
Here is what happened.
When I was 11-12 years old I was harassed and molested by a boy older than me. He would corner me on the school bus and expose his penis near my face, or grab my ass, boobs at every chance he got. I was miserable and I feared him and felt there was nothing I can do. I could not count on my mother, and I could not tell my father.
So I endured.
One afternoon at the end of class, the school went to a nearby football field where there was a football match between teachers and students. The field was near a mount and fores where we would go for PE.
I was late so there was no one in the path, but suddenly I saw the boy- I should call him Gustav- coming from the opposite direction. I looked around, there was no one, and my mouth felt dry. However I hid my fear and went pass him looking straight in front of me and sighed of relief that there was no encounter or the usual harassement, when I saw his shadow coming near mine. Pure terror. I felt his hand grabbing my boob from behind and I yanked myself to turn but then his other hand grabbed the other and squeezed hard. I felt I was going to faint of fear, I could not move and was screaming but no one could hear me.
He eventually let me go laughing and I stood there, humiliated, scared, hurt.
I left the school soon after and the next time I saw him was at a party. Everyone was happy to see me, but the mood changed, when he arrived. The guy doing the party and some others, had to beg him to leave me alone and he agreed, after making us wait with " i will think about it".
As an adult I remember this and anger boils my blood.
I saw him again after 5-6 years, when he had gone to France to study, he came back a change person. Polite, kind, thoughtful. I was keeping my distance but could not believe this young man was the same person.
I met him again as an adult mother, in a school reunion, and he was amazingly kind and thoughtful and well spoken. Married and happy. We spoke through the common school group of Facebook. But every time I saw him I felt sad, so I decided to confront him and tell him how it was for me. Something I have done also with a girl that used to torment me, and I apologized to a girl I was a dick to. He owned up to it, did not pretend to have forgotten, and apologized profusely. He did not try to make excuses.
I was satisfied. It was just a young 15 year old asshole, who did not know better, who evolved into a fine man.
FF to today, years later, more than a decade.
Covid happened and many emotions came out on several walls. Some blame Gates and some blame the Chinese, some do not believe in the virus, some stress, some hate...
I am one to always ask questions, although not providing answers. This is why I am not - in my opinion- falling into the conspiracy theorist label. These guys know everything better than anyone and project. But I ask questions, out loud. I like to question my reality and beliefs and I am aware that the "truth" is very subjective.
Enters Gustav, putting words in my mouth. Assuming, and clearly characterizing me. I explain. He insists on mansplaining, calling me "my" and making it about me, not the subject.
I try for the 3d time to point out that asking questions as to why we reopen, is not advancing any theories. Asking why we are not informed of the app tracking us, until it is known that it doesn't work on an Iphone, is just a matter of feeling respected. And sticking to the subject and not why I ask this questions, is also a matter of respect. He went on, and on, bypassing my wish to keep me out of his theory- of me- and I suddenly felt everything coming back.
Funny how the psyche works sometimes.
I truly thought I had forgiven him and I actually had respect for him.
But seing him bypassing me, insisting on publicly characterizing me, forcing my boundaries, brought back the memory of this boy who was just shrugging my space, my body, my cries and my rights, just because he could. And I saw that the 15 year old was not a phase that died and evolved. He was still here, in him, guiding him to overpower a conversation, he was still there in front of me, just a little older, just a little better hidden. He was not a bad guy, he was not a monster, things are not black and white.
But he was someone "deliquent", someone narcissistic enough to overlook someone's boundaries and then blame them for reacting to his actions. "You don't like people having a difference of opinion with you" he said.
No, my dear Gustav. You cannot have an opinion about me, as you are not a shrink, or someone close to me. You are no expert. Your opinion of me stems on the fact that we disagree in politics and your arguments should be on the matter at hand, not who I am, or who you think I am.
Because, I am the woman you molested for years, who forgave you and who you again, dismiss when she tells you to stop.
I wrote all these in private in a message.
He still went at it. And with every public "disagreement", every public "misinterpretation of my posts, every characterization of who I was or should be, every mansplaining little piece of garbage coming out of his pompous mouth, he gnawed away his own power, his own stature of respectability and redemption he had in my mind. I had build him up to be a great person, who rose from shit, and he revealed himself to be a wanker who never understood "no" for an answer.
And I feel stupid for hoping people can change, and I feel a bit less happy for carrying this in me, when forgiving had given me the freedom to love and move on. But sometimes, we just need to move on, without mending or fixing what is wrong with the world.
So be it.