Strong language and yes, all CAPS follow.
When I was four or five, my father and I visited his mother in the country. One summer day my father and I were walking along the rural road, minding our own business.
Out of an open door of a house, four or five large (I suppose all dogs are large to a five year old) came out and began barking at us, invading our space, and jumping on poor little me.
I really feel pain for that me. My heart breaks for him.
So these dogs snapped, pushed, and menaced me. This happened for a mile or two as my father and I tried to make it home.
I do not judge the dogs: they were socialized to act a certain way. I do fault the owners for leaving them to essentially roam free. Fuck those fucking assholes.
I deeply resented my father for not protecting me.
My father is a good man, not perfect, and did his best to raise me. Overall he did a fine job. But I can count on one hand the times he really failed me, and this is one of them.
Like I said, I don't blame the dogs, and the owners were not around to influence the situation. So it was up to my father, and he chose not to act.
The trauma from the situation itself is one thing, and I have genuinely forgiven him for his lack of decisiveness. We talked this out about six months ago, and he listened with love and apologized. That specific trauma is healed as much as any old trauma can be healed
The bigger, deeper, more consequential consequences was that I got the lesson, loud and fucking clear, that I was not WORTHY to be PROTECTED.
Yes, I committed an internet faux pas by using all caps. I'd pound the table if I could. It was not okay what happened to me.
So if I am not worthy of being protected from dogs at five, then I wasn't worthy of protecting myself from a bully at age 7.
"Not Enough!" that was the message I deeply received that awful day.
At 36 I am fit and understand my personal physical boundaries, and have the aura that people respect.
But I didn't have those tools at 5. My father, who was 40 at the time, was the custodian of my worth.
So if dogs can fuck with me at 5, bullies can fuck with me at 7, then I must not be worth enough to properly earn enough money to support myself.
Fuck that shit. Fuck it.
I throw that script into the trash.
Today, thirty years later I am putting the pieces back together.
Today I have no phobia of dogs. I like other people's dogs well enough, but they are just not a big interest of mine. They represent nothing especially good or bad to me.
I do not mess with anyone, human or dog. In fact, most humans and dogs are very respectful of my aura, since I respect them.
But no fucking way I am going to let some bullshit enter my space when I am minding my own business.
I have never been in a fight, and if I live to be a thousand I will never start one. But if someone starts a fight, especially with people under my authority and protection, I will defend myself and my dependents.
As an adult I have walked in all sorts of environments over much of America, and no dogs (or people) have fucked with me.
I truly believe that today, if those dogs years ago came up to me now, they would respect my aura and not violate my space.
I wish, dearly wish, I could go back and protect my younger self. He had no one in that moment.
Boundaries. My boundaries were ignored and violated.