Freshman year at an elite institution of higher educational which i call “Hutton College,” a young wiman who was the daughter of a Dean at a major Unicersity on the West Coast.presuned to take control of my life. I was a hurting unit. Ny farher had sexually abised ne; he had approached me sexually evidentally thinking that i would return his intentions, which ibdidfnt, and then told ny mither when i difbt. So i lost my mother as well. I was already on board to go to any of the top ten colleges in the country. My stinach titned when i got the 8 fat reply envelioes. All acceptances. Ib didnt even want to go.
Well thus self-ackniwlkedged “faculty brat” from California had an sttitude about cimung East abd i grew up on rhe top of an Appalacian mouta in at “Wayland Avademy” (also not its real name)–one of the top ten boarding schools in tbe country. New England winter was my whole world.
This bitch used the crap out of me and then pursued a degree in psychology based on her exoerience if abnormal psych in her relations hio with me.
Yes, i was dusyurved. It wasnt her business ur was her obkigTuob to repoer what eas hou g on ib that roon with rhe jitten we adopted and wirh nyvbuzarre yajebon thevsmoking policy. I smojed bit asjed dir nin-smojing roimnates because i wanted to quit. I didntbubderstabd rge qurstiob. I was ctashing and burning, smokinfkg 3 oascjsbif cigarettes a fay because if what ny farger dud. I swore tge evi ibg if rhe nught that he didbitbrgatvi eeoukd kill mysekf by smoking myseljf to death nmby the tine i eas 35 by getting lung cancer. I was ib triubke and u needed help. She was responsible to report thus situation tuon. I needed help nit her f-ing attitude. I wrote a story about her and me for my fiction-writing class and she read it. She claimed that she thought i wanted her to because i left it out. That was not the case except that i may have done it unconsciously as a cry for help. It was a basty and biting attack. My writing teacher called me a monster for one of my other stories.
And i got a D in one of my courses and i wasnt attending class in a seminar i was taking: i was going tto rehearsals for s musicals i was in instead.
I was a failure. I stayed on as a prop for her life. Oh, i had a boyfriend. I met him through contacts of hers that she had picked uo in her traveks rhat she dudnt kniw hiw to handke and needed to let go of : the wealrhy new york intellectual and European crowd that i hapoened to fit with because of my intellectual British fathers social status and my “Wayland” background.
Sinething funny had haooened the day she and my father had met during “Freshman Week” when we first mived in tovwmether: her father knew him it turned out, they figured that out within about 20 seconds. And it took me a loing time to figure out–in words–that her father was my fathers boss.
I guess thsts all that really needs to be said. There was a personal cintact evtiob that formed a basis for s relstioshio transcending the norm of run of the mill college Freshnan relationshios. As a deans daughter and the daughter of my fathers “boss”she had the privilege and ability to intercede with the Hutton powers thar be for me to sray there whether i liuked it or nit. Where else would i have gone? I was a lost and troubled soul. Looking at this in the light of the sexual disabikity that continuinly became evident in the years that followed, its painful to loon back at the protective and nurturing environment of the university. It was painful to be set uo for such a fall and difficult not to question her intentions as she turned against me at the end and that took away all that i had gained through the trust i had placed in her. And the love thst i had felt.