Kitty Chat

The following is a Blog post I wrote for Kitty Chat three years ago... I could not bring myself to post it before now, I felt so vulnerable. However, as I am now in a secure space, emotionally, and at peace with my past, I think I am finally ready to share this. There are others, as well, that have been written, and kept from the public eye... but let's start with this one first.
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Trust Issues

Like most women who have done the dating thing, I have been the “dumpee” in more than one relationship. Usually by guys who have promised one thing and done something else. Now mind you, I have had good relationships as well, but only three or four Very Special Relationships stand out. And, sadly, neither of my marriages figure into that ‘Very Special Relationships’ count.

Understand, please, that I do not put 100% of the blame on the broad shoulders of the men from my past, it takes two to tango and I am just as much at fault. Yes, I have been the “dumper” as well, but I think I tend to become just a complete and total bitch in bad relationships and that ends up driving the man away, eventually. When I don’t feel completely secure, I can be incredibly needy and clingy and I oftentimes push people to the limit, perhaps to test them? Really all it does is drive them away, but I never seem to recognise that while it’s happening. Escalating Cyclical Problem, anyone? Yes, I see that now that said relationships are over, my problem has been seeing it while it’s happening.


Time for a Kitty Honesty and Reality Check, I think. Right, let’s be completely honest, shall we, Kitty? There has only been ONE extraordinary relationship in your entire mature life; the one with the man you thought was your soul mate, the man you thought was ‘The One’ to end any further searches into the dating Frog Pond. The one you drove away from you with your unreasonable demands, childish snits… and? What else, remember? You drove him away because you didn’t trust him; you didn’t trust what he said, you didn’t trust what he said was going on nor did you trust that he knew, bluntly, what was best for the both of you.

“Hello, my name is Kitty” (Hello, Kitty) “And I am a Non-Truster of Men, it’s been 38 years since my last successful Trust episode.” (Applause)


I have a problem with trusting men. There, I have admitted it. And I am finally ready to write about it, to finally discuss it. I have been mulling over this for several months (OK, years) and taking notes, yes, really that long. It has taken me that long to find, understand and accept the underlying cause of this issue I have with trust. It has caused me a lot of grief thinking about just why I do not trust men, why I can never seem to just take a ‘leap of faith’ and believe what is told me, believe that a guy is going to be straight with me. I never knew why until I worked back through events from my past and came to this one. So, I have made a breakthrough and I want to share it as I think I might have finally figured it out.


(Actually, this whole entire ‘thing’ was buried so deep, it took a series of hypnosis therapy sessions to unearth it…, which also dug up other, rather murky and sinister things from my childhood. However, I will just focus on this one part since it deals directly with men and trust.)

I have to go back a long time, to when I was about 10 or 11. There was one event from my childhood, that stands out, that started this ball rolling. It is very uncomfortable to think about, even now, to bring to the forefront of my consciousness. When it first came out, in hypnosis, it shook me to my core as I had completely forgotten it. Since those sessions back in 1986, I have pretty much suppressed this memory until very recently as it really bothered me to think about it. In fact, this keystone event would STILL be suppressed in all likelihood had I not stumbled, quite by accident, onto a 4-H Club website while looking at recipes from the Mid-West. Why am I suddenly gripped with fear? Why did my insides just go cold? I used to be in 4-H… Oooooh yeah, now I remember… Of course, in all frankness, it would be far easier just to let it stay lurking in the blackness of my consciousness. However, as I am trying to work through everything in my life that is self-destructive and holds me back, this needs to be brought out into the light, examined and reconciled. Although I do not feel to be in an entirely secure place at all times emotionally, I think I am far enough away from it now, at the ripe ‘ol age of nearly fifty, to examine it and work through it.

I was in 4-H from the age of 9 until 11. 4-H is a bit like Girl Guides or Boy Scouts but it involves Agriculture or Home Economics, it’s a Youth Club, in other words. One of the things people could do is give Demonstrations from their Speciality Area. Mine was Food, Clothing and Rabbits. The first year I went into the competition, I did a Demonstration on ‘Caesar Salad’, explaining its history, describing how to make it and then demonstrating how to do it. I won first place at Local, won first at County, won first at Regional and then came in third at Statewide. I was ten.

The next year, because I had done so well, and completely on my own, they decided to give me a coach to see if I could win at State and go on to win Western Division and then possibly even National for my age group, which would be kudos for the club. I do not remember this coach’s name or what he looked like exactly, only that he was about 17-19 years old, possibly older. I can only recall a ‘sense’ of what he was like. I remember his car, a Corvette or Mustang, a sports car in other words. I remember he used to play ‘Cecilia’ a lot from Simon and Garfunkels’ ‘Bridge over Troubled Waters’ Album or maybe it was getting a lot of airtime on the radio, I can’t remember. I didn’t understand the reference in that song, ‘I got up to wash my face’… he used to overemphasise that bit of the song when it came on… I had no idea what it meant, but I did know that it made me feel uneasy. (I DO understand the reference now.) I also remember that he used to pick me up from my house in Covina and drive me to the County Demo practice, which was 30 or so minutes away from my house, we were in the car more than just a few minutes, in other words. At first, he was just nice, friendly and conversational, and then it progressed onto him holding my hand as we drove. This was exciting for me, I was just a kid and this teenager was interested enough in me to hold my hand!

After that, it got more serious. He started taking my hand and putting it on his thigh. Then he asked me to put my hand in his lap ‘to keep him warm’. I know now that he positioned himself so that I was putting my hand on his crotch. It was confusing for me and slightly scary as well but I didn’t understand about anything sexual, I had no idea there was an erect bit of anatomy under my hand. I had no idea I was, in effect, being molested, he just said it was our ‘special secret’ only we shared. You see, I was very naïve for a very long time. In addition, I was 11, it was 1969, and the world was a lot different than it is today.

Then it went to him touching me. He started with just ever-so-slightly brushing against my pre-pubescent breasts that were not even beginning to develop yet and then later, he began to touch me in between my thighs, up my skirt. I used to move his hand away but he would just laugh and either put it back up my skirt or put my hand on his crotch. I do remember feeling very uncomfortable, frightened and completely at odds as what to do. Being a Youth Leader, he was in a position of ‘trust’, wasn’t he? He was a friend of my Mom and Dad. He had been to our house before, he was my coach and in the 4-H Leadership. He was a ‘nice guy’, a person someone could trust, right? Certainly, he was there to chaperone me, to protect me and therefore would never dream of doing anything to harm me, right? What he was doing must be normal; I just had no experience with any boys whatsoever and certainly not with any adult men. So… why did I feel so bad when he touched me? Because it was wrong, of course, but I had no one to tell, no one to confide in about what was happening.

Looking back, I could have told anyone, anyone at all, but I didn’t have the ‘Communication Skills’ to express what was going on. Nor did I have the ‘People Skills’ to handle the situation. So, to protect myself, to be able to ‘deal’ with what was going on, I would shut down emotionally when he touched me or when he made me touch him. I disassociated myself from what was happening. This is something that has dogged me to this day, this emotional remoteness with men. I believe I can pinpoint it starting with him, this paedophile.

Later, as I entered into adult relationships, having a man touch me still felt wrong so I would go outside myself to be able to involve myself in the situation… which of course, did just the opposite. I still can never fully engage. Admittedly, I never really have tried… I am still too scared. I have never before faced up to what was holding me back. Well, now I have. I hope in future I will find a man who can inspire trust in me, who will accept that I have been damaged and respects me enough to help me build a mature adult trust bond with him. I think by facing this square in the face and understanding what is behind my reactions, is a major first step on the road to complete, what? Recovery? Oneness of Self? Certainly, it can only lead to better interactions with my partners in future.

So now I have faced this, I have examined and thought through this, and in doing so, I think I have finally come to terms with this event and can, at last put this regrettable bit of my childhood behind me. I found by going through this process, it has lead me to consider and reconsider other things about myself as I have mulled this over and over, like some huge Kitty Venn Diagram. (But heh, that is what this whole Blog is about, n’est-ce pas?) AND while going through the above, I have come to the realisation that I can point to this unfortunate series of events from my childhood probably instigating the problem with me not being able to have a normal female sexual response. However, I will discuss that in another Blog.


Oh, and I came in second at County so never had to see him again. I dropped out of 4-H shortly after that. I completely lost interest, see?