Mothering and Life in General
The Dirty Hand
** Warning Sexual Abuse Mentioned **
The one greatest thing that parents have in common is the fears we have for our children. The fears of what may or may not come. Some seem unpretentious to another, but it’s still the same; we all have fears for our children’s futures.
There are things that goes in my head of what may, pregnancy, broken hearts, depression. The top situation, besides addictions, that really hurts my mind and leaves me breathless, is her being touched by a dirty hand.
I get the same feelings thinking about it as I do when I was there. You see, when you are touched by a dirty hand, you grow to learn what that dirty hand saw. You see that attraction, you feel that dirty hand’s need. You understand the most sickest part, it makes you ill, but you can notice it, feel it, and are forced to live it.
You watch the News channels to hear about, yet another, dirty hand victim; and you can see the attraction. Not saying that there is an urge there, just a weird understanding I can’t put into words. Along with this understanding, comes the ability to almost sense other potential dirty hands, even other victims.
My, being touched by a dirty hand defeats me everyday. It scares me to know that just because I was touched, my children are also touched, but invisibly. This dirty hand virus gets passed along the way. No matter how hard I try to stop it.
It scares me that I can’t be a normal parent, that I continuously look over my shoulder, that I don’t take a stranger for a his sincere hellos. I don’t like it when they get close to my child. I get uncomfortable when they stare a little too long. I don’t like it when they ask her name or how old she is; and I extremely don’t like to explain why.
I don’t like the visions I had throughout my pregnancy, the dreams that haunt me to this day. They are always about people I trust, hurting my baby girl. Yet it seems reasonable because my dirty hand was also someone I respected. With that, it makes me second guess who I trust and why. Or even if I made the right choice.
I don’t like how ‘cute’ my daughter looks, and I hate it even more when another notices. I hate when another mother states what I already know, “There is just something about her, she’s special, she is going to change something”. I smile and act perfect, because that is what we do. There is no way of becoming clean, when a dirty hand touches you.
I see in my daughter things can attract the dirty, like most children she is pure, sensitive, young, and can easily believe. On the other hand she is strong-willed, a fighter, something to break, a conquest, a toy. I see this, I know this, but I shouldn’t and it scares me. If I see it, do they?
It’s hard to talk about ‘never talking to strangers’ because it’s not always a stranger who does these things. It’s hard to talk about ‘good touches/bad touches’ or ‘safe people/unsafe people’. I analyze what I should say. I can’t say Doctors, Policeman or the neighbor down the hall are ok, because some of them might be dirty.
I most definitely can’t say Uncle thing-a-ma-bob or Cousin do-hicky, because he or she might not be. I wont tell my daughter a lie, yet she is too young to explain between the lines.
I almost admire my friends who just simply say, “If you don’t have a name for them, they are strangers and you don’t go, they are not safe”. Me on the other hand, for now I am thinking “If you don’t hear Mommy and Daddy say it’s ok, it’s not safe, don’t go/don’t do it”. Yet, where will this lead?
My way is not any better, than my friends, I am glad she can make a decision and feel right with it. I can’t, even with the statement above I am questioning what am I missing? Again, I pass down the dead virus, through my fear, she can’t be normal either, with a parent like me.
All the things that could happen to K2 like addictions, abductions, STD, broken heart and molestation or rape. Out of all the things that we parents consider as bad; teenage consensual sex and pregnancy does not seem such a big of a deal. Let us hope, and for those who pray, pray; that she only comes home pregnant and not touched, physically by a dirty hand.