I Was Seventeen, He Was Thirty-Four

It was 1993, the summer right after high school.

I was looking forward to my 18th birthday later that month and was eager to begin my own life, free from the morally bankrupt one I had just experienced as a teen.

Having just escaped my toxic childhood, I decided to move in with my lovely British grandmother to start over and begin a new life built on strong ethics and strict morals.

I was a good Mormon girl, which meant I had a very clear set of rules I followed:

don't drink,

don't smoke,

don't do drugs,

don't watch rated R movies,

don't make out for too long,

don't wear mini skirts or tight shirts,

definitely don't have sex before marriage,

and only date to find a "return missionary" who is a "worthy priesthood holder" who will take me to the temple.

The list was long, but I was happy to oblige.

I started teaching piano at a local music store and quickly became enamored with the cute guitar teacher who taught in the studio right next to me.

He had the perfect guitar-player long hair and a smile that lit up a room.

He was gentle, kind, and thoughtful.

He took the time to listen to my stories and validate my hurts.

He was a cheerleader for my dreams and a supporter of my passions.

He made me feel loved, cared for, and deeply mature.

Saturdays were full of students and long talks between breaks as we would share with each other our favorite bands, songs, and movies.

We talked about the deeper stuff, too, and dreamed of a life we could build together.

We quickly built a strong bond and he eventually built up the courage to ask me how old I was.

By the time he asked me this question, I had turned 18 and was officially legal, but when he confessed to being 34, my heart sank.

I didn't understand power dynamics at the time, but something deep down told me this wasn't a good thing.

I couldn't date a 34 year-old, right!?

Right!?

By this time, however, I was hooked.

We had built a strong connection and tight bond that I didn't want to walk away from.

I went home and read my scriptures, then prayed to ask "God" what I should do about it. I quickly felt the "spirit" confirm to me that God had put him in my life for a reason and that I should continue to date him, despite the fact that he was so much older. God had a bigger plan, and it didn't matter that other people wouldn't understand the age gap.

Getting God's approval was all I needed and since I was technically legal age, we decided to keep seeing each other.

He invited me to his music festivals and shows around town and I would dance solo in the audience, beaming from ear to ear, knowing that he was going home with me and not the hundreds of screaming fans that wanted his attention.

Except, over time, I began to notice something happening quietly under the surface.

For some reason, he never brought me around when his older adult friends were there.

He would very quickly push me aside when any of them would come by and tell me to go sit in the car until he was ready to go.

I began to feel like he was ashamed of me.

I had to stay away and stay silent.

I started to think that maybe I wasn't good enough or pretty enough to be his girlfriend.

I would go home and wrestle with my heartbreak as I tried to figure out what was wrong with me.

Eventually, I would always come to the conclusion that ours was a "divinely orchestrated" relationship that other, less enlightened people just didn't understand.

This pattern continued for a while and we kept our relationship mostly secret.

Long talks, lots of kissing, and lots of hiding.

He knew my physical intimacy boundaries and I felt like he respected them at the time, but something about this dynamic still felt uncomfortable to me.

That discomfort never really went away and I finally decided to end things, despite the fact that "God" had previously given his stamp of approval.

We met up in a parking lot late one night and I told him I didn't feel good about it anymore and we needed to break up.

He cried, but said he understood.

I went home and sobbed and then found myself crawling back to him two weeks later, only to find out he had already moved on and found a new girlfriend.

Just like that -

TWO WEEKS LATER,

he had completely moved on.

It was then that I realized I had been played.

I was used for a time, then quickly discarded as if nothing had happened.

I wasn't special, I was just young and naive.

I was easy to mess with.

I realize that in many ways, I got lucky.

Things could have gone in a completely different direction had I not broken up with him in the first place.

I share this story because I want to show that not all grooming stories end with a loud bang or a rape allegation.

I share this story because I want to show that not all grooming stories end with a loud bang or a rape allegation.

Some of them end with emotional whiplash that we can't quite make sense of for years.

Some of them end with confusion, frustration, and shame about our own self worth and value.

And some of them end with a quiet stain on our mind that never really goes away.

I also want to share this story to remind people that outwardly "good" guys can do bad things.

The 34 year-old I dated was a nice guy in our community.

People liked him.

He didn't rape me or physically abuse me in any way, but he did mess with my mind.

And that matters too.

I also want to share this story to remind men who are looking to date to stay away from young, underage women.

Nothing good will ever come from it.

Stay away from them.

Learn about power dynamics and learn how to respect them.

Educate yourself.

Young women are not there for you to build emotional and intimate relationships with.

Stay away.

And to you, young women, I want to say that I love you.

You are worthy and beautiful and amazing and uniquely YOU and you don't need a man to give you that worth.

EVER.

Build up your own self worth in all the ways you possibly can.

Build up your own self worth in all the ways you possibly can.

Educate yourself about grooming behavior.

Educate yourself about adult brain development and how your own brain works.

Understand yourself and your own wounds and vulnerabilities.

Educate yourself about personality disorders and wake up to the reality of this aspect of humanity.

Follow licensed professionals who know what they are talking about with these sensitive topics.

Find ways to further your own growth and creativity in ways that are healthy and respectful.

Learn about healthy relationship dynamics from professionals who have done the work.

I want to add one last thing before I close out this blog post and explain a bit why this topic has been on my mind so deeply the last few days.

There have been some recent allegations brought to light in regards to a grooming and SA culture in the music scene in my local town.

Many women have come forward to share their stories, some of them are more serious than others,

BUT THEY ALL MATTER.

We need to listen to the women who come forward.

We need to stop saying that "I wasn't harmed by this person" or "that wasn't my experience with them" or "but I really like that venue."

We need to stop saying that women are just "piling on" when in reality, they are unveiling an entire subculture and dark UNDERBELLY that MUST BE ADDRESSED in ways that are bigger and more public than is comfortable.

We need to stop saying that women are just "piling on" when in reality, they are unveiling an entire subculture and dark UNDERBELLY that MUST BE ADDRESSED in ways that are bigger and more public than is comfortable.

Oftentimes, women who seek to handle abuse in private are dismissed and the systemic change is never really FULLY addressed.

It is often only the massive, public outcry that sparks needed change.

It is often only the massive, public outcry that sparks needed change.

We need to be willing to break down systems and businesses to the studs (or even to the ground, if needed) so that we can build much healthier spaces.

The process of rebuilding is complicated.

Yes, mistakes will be made.

Yes, alleged perpetrators are not always "all" bad.

Yes, alleged perpetrators deserve their due process and legal right to defend themselves.

Yes, false allegations sometimes do happen.

Yes, alleged perpetrators deserve their right to learn, change, correct, and do better.

Yes, alleged perpetrators may not always fully understand the harm they have caused.

BUT,

we must always listen to the people (not just women) who come forward.

We must always listen and learn from the ones who say they were harmed.

FULL STOP.

Here's to healing and hope!

We got this!

Love,

Julia