Today, a co-worker patted me across the back. I hated it.
Why? Because I couldn’t see him. It would have been different if he was in front of me. But he was behind me. He meant no harm. In fact, he was telling me that I did a good job today. But with that pat, I flinched. I didn’t say anything about it. It was one of those situations where, if I made a big deal about it, matters would have been worse.
I was sexually abused when I was 12. Ever since, I have never liked it when anyone touches me from behind. I need to see them. I HAVE to see them. Today’s back pat was just one example of little things that constantly remind me that I will never be normal. It’s hard for me to understand any circumstance where anyone would think it’s okay to pat them on the back when they don’t see you. But apparently, most people have no problem with this. I’m in the minority, and I know it.
I did a good job today. I have to remember that. Still, I wish I hadn’t flinched. I wish I could erase the abuse from my memory. I can’t.
But when all is said and done, I did a good job today. Onward.