Dirty Cowboy

Dirty Cowboy

A #SurvivorStory by Christine

As a little girl, your mind is of pure innocence. Visiting your grandma up North with your “going to grandma’s” pink luggage and getting to eat homemade pozole because she knows it’s your favorite. Then there’s Grandma’s husband that loves to play – I’ve noticed he enjoys tickling me. He’s a tall, skinny, cowboy looking man with a ponytail and cowboy boots. He sure did have a lot of guns and lassos. I never questioned it, I just thought it was a cowboy thing. Grandma’s house had many rooms even though it was only her and her husband living there. You walk right into the living room that had a large mirror, a red convertible VHS movie rewinder, a tv for my brothers and I to watch movies on, and random instruments she let us play with. The kitchen had a table with a booth and towards the end of the kitchen was grandma’s room! She always insisted I sleep in there with her, but I never enjoyed using her restroom. The doors were swing doors that were probably 3 feet tall.

Back to the living room… there’s a hallway with a guest restroom, luckily with a full-sized sliding door. Next was the fun room. There was a small couch with a room full of toys and the next room was an office that led into a large basement type of room with vintage Coca-Cola collection items everywhere.

One afternoon one of my two brothers were in the living room sitting very close to the tv watching a cartoon while my parents, grandma, and oldest brother headed into the Coca-Cola room.

Grandma’s husband stayed with me on the couch where my brother was watching tv. He put me on his right leg to bounce me and I had this uncomfortable feeling in my stomach, so I made the excuse to grab a lime packet candy that was in the kitchen. Those lime packets are difficult to open without scissors. He followed me into the kitchen, began tickling me and pinned me to the floor as I was uncontrollably laughing. I then knew this was an uncomfortable situation because he began unbuttoning my pants and putting his hand under my underwear. I know in my gut he realized I was trying to get away from him, so he stopped and from that point on, I don’t remember that day…

I wanted to tell my parents right away that he was touching me weird but knowing that he had guns all around the house I didn’t want him to shoot anyone to protect himself.

Finally, we were back in our hometown 4 hours away from that house up North. It wasn’t too long after that my grandma visited us. I remember coming home from the store with my Mom and Grandma. My Mom was driving and my grandma was in the passenger seat. Something they were talking about sparked me to tell them that he was touching me. They both looked back at me. My grandma was in denial while my mom demanded confirmation on what I said.

Turns out my two cousins were also getting molested by the same man. He took off to Texas before the police in Kern County were able to take him in for questioning.

It’s been almost 20 years and I’ve never talked about it openly until 2019.

Today I’m 27 years old with an 8-month-old baby girl living with my boyfriend of 6 years. I’m getting counseling to overcome my current fears of the world. I hope to one day comfortably hug again, love again, embrace being in a crowd again, and to be FREE.

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