To The Man In Meijer Square

Warning: Content not appropriate for children and may be triggering to some individuals.

Yesterday, I did some writing and a cleansing ritual with a friend who also administers Reiki, teaches yoga, etc… We both shared and tried to figure out where or when, in our lives, did we start to disconnect from our true essence.

If you have looked at the rest of my site you will notice, I am working to relaunch new music. So, I am continuing to work on letting go of anything that might be inhibiting this next chapter.

She suggested, I needed to do a writing session of forgiveness, whether to myself or the individual(s) involved in my past. There were a number of moments, as it goes with life. Perhaps mild in the face of some but one moment, for me, was from this story below.

I grew up in a modest home, on the West Side of Cincinnati. I spent most of my time in Delhi. Delhi is its own township, next to Green Township, inside of Western Hills but in the city of Cincinnati. Talk about being insulated.

I was 9 or so in this picture

One afternoon, my Mom took me and my best friend Jen to the store. I remember it being Meijer Square but I think it could have even been Gold Circle at the time. I believe I was around 12 years old then.

We walked down the main entrance straight back to the clothing section. My least favorite part of any store. Still to this day, not usually my fave. And I wonder why I’m fashion challenged…

We stepped onto the large rectangle of carpet, sniffing out some new outfits. I am quite sure I whined asking if I could go check out the game/toy section. I remember the somewhat short walk, over to it and I was surprised that there was no one else, in the “best” part of the store. It was quiet, still.

I walked straight to the back of the section, that ran along the wall. Behind me, perpendicular to this length of the store, stood aisles of shelving that could feel like a maze. After being there for a bit, I felt uneasy. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. As I moved along the wall, I caught a glimpse of a figure, watching me.

I tried to act as if I didn’t see him, or if I did, that I didn’t care. As I would meander back and forth, there he would be at the other end of whatever pathway was clear to me. My breathe is shallow now as I write this.

Now, I had been a very vocal kid. I would introduce myself to people and rarely shied away from someone unless they made me feel uncomfortable. But now, in this moment, I was afraid.

I couldn’t clear my throat, let alone yell across the 100 feet or so to my Mom. I was a like a deer, frozen, knowing there was something amiss. “If you stand perfectly still, nothing will harm you.” I thought.

At one point, I left my false sense of security along the wall, and made my way along one of the aisles, and then he appeared. Now, closer than before. I broke off and pretended to be interested in something on the shelf and went back the other way. I would continue to go back and try to find another aisle but he wasn’t giving up.

Inside this cat and mouse game, I guess it was a matter of 5-10 mins but it felt like an hour passed. I finally found a free aisle. I started to make my way, it was clear. I guess, I assumed everything was fine, now. Maybe part of me was curious, as to what was going on, I felt trapped in that ‘maze’.

So, I made my way back down another aisle, the coast seemed clear, yet, out of nowhere, there he was again! He started walking towards me. I tried to look away, I had my head down, looking side to side, facing what felt like facing a monster in your dream feels like.

He wasn’t smiling, he was robotic. His lips were sealed shut. I noticed how clean cut he was and as my gaze caught him again, I had to look away because the look on his face made me uncomfortable. I then realize he had fully exposed himself to me.

When I realized what was happening, I turned the lightest shade of white. I felt all the blood rush to my heart suddenly. I felt cold and hot. I realize now that I was in shock and probably about to faint. I was mortified and frightened.

I don’t want to minimize that part of the act that happened because it is egregious but it was so upsetting, just how menacing he felt to me. It wasn’t a joke or someone being silly, he seemed dangerous.

Heading towards the wall of shelves, I made my way to the end of the aisle, and quickly went down a ways and back out towards where I hoped my Mom and my friend still were. Reaching her, I could breathe but I don’t remember what was said or if anything was.

I am standing with my Mom, my foot on the cart, leaning over its metal basket, holding on tightly. Out from the toy section he comes walking towards us. A wall of Hallmark greeting cards to my left. I’m facing him as he walks along, I notice every bit about his appearance.

He was somewhat tall, though not near as tall as my Dad who was 6’6″ at the time. I would have given anything for my Dad to be there. I noticed his perfectly shaped, brown hair was parting out from the middle of his head. Laying a bit above his thick eyebrows. He had dark brown eyes set on a recently shaved face. His jaw was clear and prominent and he had a perfectly trimmed thick mustache that stopped on the edges of his lips.

The back of his hair went down the back of neck but didn’t touch the collar of his black two button golf/polo shirt that was tucked into dark blue jeans. He had a somewhat wide dark brown leather belt and a bronze/gold like belt buckle. Finished off with snub toed dark boots.

“Oh my God” I thought. He is walking right passed us. He was staring at me with a, “do not think about telling anyone what happened” I could almost hear him talk in my mind.

I had two thoughts. One, as he made the turn towards the main entrance, I could run and jump on his back. Screaming and yelling, clawing at his face. Two, I would keep standing there, motionless. “If you stand perfectly still, nothing will harm you.” I couldn’t believe he did that, with my Mom right there. I felt protective of her in that moment, because I didn’t know what he would do. But I couldn’t speak up for myself.

He walked out the door and there I stood. I swallowed the moment alone, afraid, motionless, in isolation, in front of everyone.

It would be another 5-6 years before I told my Mom what happened.

One night, I don’t know how long after, I was laying in my room, watching an old small black and white TV, my parents let me have. The antenna was set just right so I could get a clear picture. For some reason I had the news on and they were talking about a recent rape(s) in the area. They showed a sketch and I could not believe it. There he was again. The exact same face. The exact same mustache. I wouldn’t have believed this if I hadn’t seen it myself.

I immediately felt guilty that I hadn’t told anyone at that time. I am aware it probably wouldn’t have mattered. And that apparently in this country, in some cases, people can be assaulted, raped and murdered and their offenders often get chance after chance to hurt more people. (I am aware of some of the the injustice that goes on in and around our judicial system but that is not the purpose of this post)

I will never know who this nameless man was. And I will never know if that was him on the screen that night.

As I wrote in the beginning, the purpose of the exercise was to write about forgiving this individual because any residual energy, thoughts, aren’t likely to be having any affect on him. If I am holding onto anything, it is only harming me. I will save most of what I wrote for my journal.

I imagine this guy, was part of a family at one point in time. He could have been someone’s brother or uncle. Maybe he still had a mother. Maybe he was some displaced individual who had been harmed beyond repair. Maybe he was born seeing life through some unfortunate and inappropriate lens. Does any of that matter? Perhaps not.

And instead of finding a way through his possible trauma, he used it. He used it to control others because he felt out of control. He used it to control his emotions that he never dealt with. He was stuck in a loop, that he didn’t know how or didn’t want to get out of, all while hurting people in the process. That was his journey and this is mine and I can forgive him now.

This doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want him taken out if I witnessed something like that with one of my nieces. But it doesn’t serve me anymore to carry it. I definitely like food but I know without a doubt this started my hiding and eating. Added to my teenage depression and eating for comfort, resulting weight fluctuation. I never got as much unwanted attention as I did or do when I’m thinner.

I am truly grateful for all my lessons, including this one. Doesn’t mean I wanted it to happen or I wasn’t traumatized but I was able to use this and other experiences from my life and others to help the people I worked with in my MMA and Self defense career.

That’s the point of life no? To share knowledge from whatever source of pain or joy. Experience things as a human, and go on.

As I have repeated before; “We are spiritual beings having a human experience.” I first read this in Deepak Chopras’ book, Seven Spiritual Laws of Success. I do not know if this is the origin of this line but I have heard it said many, many, times.

Thank you for reading.