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Trigger warning: References to Sexual abuse and violence

Like a regular Sunday morning, I woke up late, and yes, 10 AM was late when I was still in school, in the 5th grade if I remember correctly. It was that Sunday of the month when I had to go get a haircut. I had a bribery tradition which I started because I hated getting a haircut. My parents would have to buy me a comic book after every haircut.

But from this one day, that tradition stopped forever. This was after my parents trusted me (and assumed that a boy can’t be unsafe) and let me walk to the barber shop alone. This Sunday, I was wearing those track pants that had a hole between the legs but were so comfortable I wore them to sleep. I left for getting the haircut, not realising that the pants had a hole. I reached the shop, sat on the chair and I skipped a beat when I realised that the hole wasn’t just there it was bigger and way too apparent to miss anyone’s sight. I sat, with my legs closest than they’ve ever been and I asked the guy to give me a regular haircut.

I wanted to look confident which is why I did not look him in the eye and behaved like the regular customer that I was, trusting him fully, not knowing that his eye was already on the hole in my pants. I was wearing an underwear but this surely was embarrassing.

His hands went on my thighs and I felt his finger on my area and he asked me, “Are you feeling something?” My throat jammed up and I said, “No”. He called one of the other barbers and maybe he just pointed it out to him out of my sight since I was looking down constantly, in shame, fear and so many things that I was feeling then. I even heard both of them giggling. This went on for a few minutes after which I got the haircut from the first guy.

The second guy came to untie the cloth and clean me up when he too, did the same while taking a feedback which I wasn’t able to give with that choked voice. That day, I did not buy a comic book, ran home and took the most silent bath. I asked my parents to find me a new barber shop for a reason I couldn’t tell them.

Today, this incident still overpowers the good memories of childhood days and comes back to me when I see the shop near my house. Fortunately, it hasn’t affected my relationships but sometimes, I do question my homosexuality if this was a trigger. I hope to get rid of my anxiety and depression with the therapy I have started, again, keeping my parents in the dark.

Why didn’t I report?

Didn’t know this was abuse

 


This story is part of the #BreakTheSilence campaign by Gaylaxy and How Revealing. If you identify as part of the queer community and you have experienced sexual abuse, harassment or bullying, you can share your experience here.
Let’s break the silence, inspire and help take the fight forward – together

Anonymous

The author of this post wished to remain anonymous