|
By RoseMarie Couture DeSaro
The thumping sound grew louder. Someone was coming! Quick, pretend you’re asleep!
Downstairs in Linda’s basement, where she and I had spent most of the night giggling and snacking, we ducked under the covers on the pull-out sofa bed when we heard the sound of her father descending the stairs.
“Oh boy, he’s gonna be mad we’re still up,” Linda whispered as she scrunched her eyes shut and disappeared under the blanket. I lay next to her, quiet and still.
When her father finished making his way down the rickety staircase, he approached my side of the bed. Without saying a word, I watched through slit eyes as he slid his pants zipper down and something poked out. Before my ten year old brain could process what was happening, he reached down to grasp my hand, which lay outside the covers.
With my other hand, I desperately tried to poke Linda under the covers. She did not respond. How she could have fallen asleep?! What do I do, I don’t want him to touch me! Panicked, I kept poking and pushing Linda until finally I either hurt her or annoyed her, she grunted “stop it!” and then rolled over to face the other side of the bed. Quickly, her father disappeared back up the stairs.
The next day I knew I had to do something. But talking to my brother and sisters was out of the question—I was the youngest of five and as it was they teased me constantly. I had zero communication with my parents when it came to anything remotely emotional. My dad was in the bottle in his own little world most of the time, and my Mom, well she just didn’t seem to know how to openly express her emotions. A product of their own upbringings, both of my parents passively promoted keeping the door to emotions shut airtight.
So I told Linda what happened, assuming she would believe me and find a way to make it all right. But what occurred after that only made it worse—so much worse…
I remember the day like yesterday, though by now approximately forty-four years have passed. I was summoned in front of her father, who sat in his arm chair, his wife behind him with her hand supportively on his shoulder, and my friend Linda sitting closely in front of him on the floor. They looked like the perfect family portrait.
“Who the hell do you think you are, little girl, making up such disgusting and filthy stories?” he shouted at me from the sanctuary of his chair. “Don’t you know that you can go to jail for telling such horrible lies?”
“I’ve got a good mind to call the police on you right now! From now on, you’d better learn how to behave when you come into this house, and don’t you ever lie again about what goes on here or I’ll have them come and lock you up for good!” My friend and her mother remained silent the whole time. Mortified, I went home and never told another soul.
Nothin’ But Trouble
After that, trouble seemed to follow me consistently. Particularly trouble with men…by the time I was a little older, I found myself dodging sexual advances left and right. The loving husband next door, a schoolmate’s dirty old grandfather, and even a brother-in-law (now an ex-brother in law!) seemed hell bent on cornering me in one way or another.
One routine Sunday Italian family dinner stands out the most. I could smell the meatballs and gravy cooking in the kitchen (in Brooklyn its gravy, not sauce!) The house was full of family members all talking loudly over one another. The TV blasted the football game, Dad cussed the Jets, grandmother and mom drank Manhattans, and I—a typical sixteen year old—had retreated to my upstairs bedroom for some peace and quiet.
Suddenly, the door flung open and in my brother-in-law strutted with his pants down around his ankles. I guess he thought he was bringing me some kind of gift! I quickly shoved him out of my room and slammed the door closed. Again, I kept it to myself.
It’s no wonder by the time I turned sweet sixteen, I knew how to manipulate men. Defining my success in male terms, I decided I’d be the first in my family to attend college, to work at a super successful career, and I’d bear children at a later age. I made it my mission to prove that a woman could accomplish anything a man could do. Not such remarkable goals for today’s young females, but I established this life plan in 1973!
Shortly after college I was introduced to lifting free weights. It made me feel sexy, strong and confident. I decided to compete professionally and to undertake it as a career. Unfortunately, I quickly learned how many people thrive on discouraging a pioneer or visionary. Told I was already too old, I’d have to move to California, etc., and filled with uncertainty, I listened to the dream stealers and gave up the dream.
Working Girl
A pro at guarding myself against both sexual advances and emotional outbreaks at this point in my life, Wall Street seemed the natural next stop for me. Ironically, I knew that my Brooklyn wise-guy sense of humor, bodybuilding experience, and emotional coolness, placed me on level footing with any man out there.
Six years later I became the first female regional marketing director of my ultra conservative firm on Wall Street. I broke the glass ceiling, crashed the boy’s party, and I did it on my terms!
Then the stock market crash of 1987 derailed my perfect plan. Forced to seek out new opportunities, I began a network marketing direct sales career in 1989.I garnered significant success my first year, but when the industry took a beating I lost my confidence, listened again to the dream stealers, and walked away. I didn’t have enough belief in myself to allow entrepreneurship to expose my weaknesses. I felt far safer under the corporate umbrella.
The next ten plus years were a mix of on again, off again business opportunities, intertwined with corporate America. I experienced successes and failures alike. Through it all, I still felt more confident with the safety net of a corporate environment.
And then the unthinkable happened. On an early September crystal blue sky day, I was running late and thinking there has to be a better way. I rushed to catch the 8:47 a.m. boat, and witnessed the first plane crash into One World Trade Center.
I never made it into my building. I saw my secretary crying for her sister, and while consoling her we saw the second plane coming and ran into the park. It was a moment of sheer panic as terror gripped us; a defining moment when you get to know exactly who you are.
While others fled to get to their boat and escape, knocking people down en route, I climbed the park benches looking for my brother, nephew, brother-in-law, and friends.
Cell phones didn’t work. I let several boats come and go. The barge on which we stood was not meant for so many people and began to rock fiercely. People panicked and yelled to the deckhand to close the gates and leave others behind.
I was appalled but decided it would be smarter to cross the Hudson River to the Jersey side. There I found a ghost town; the Goldman Sachs buildings normally bustling with people were now destitute. It was then the first building fell and I knew it was time to go home. I watched the second tower fall in my car’s rearview mirror. The highway was a twilight zone, not a soul around, only some abandoned cars.
This day turned out to be a pivotal moment in my life in more ways than one, though I had yet to learn exactly how.
The Drive of a Lamborghini
A few years later, the entrepreneurial failures overshadowed the corporate successes. I once took a psychological test that concluded I had the drive of a Lamborghini. But where was my drive now, and for what? What was it about the safety of the corporate environment that prevented me from going it alone? Where did the powerful, fearless, confident, determined woman go?
I knew it was time to carefully reevaluate my life. Then I attended a company sponsored intense five day life changing event, where I learned we are all born to win and then programmed to lose! As part of the training, I relived the incident of sexual abuse from forty-four years ago. While I’d always known it affected my relationships with men, I never realized how much I censored myself emotionally because of the fear instilled in me during that early episode with my friend’s father, compounded by discouragement of emotional expression during my early family life.
That threat had subconsciously paved the road to my lack of confidence. Along with learning to keep a lid on my emotions, I stifled my natural confident instinct for survival. This set me up to succeed only when I had the confidence of a concrete safety net.
I started asking myself the right questions. I learned that my strength, courage and resiliency were innate, and that only second guessing myself made me vulnerable to what others said or thought. That day on 9/11, I understood that God had given me these traits to learn how to survive. It was only my limiting beliefs that held me back from the life about which I’d always dreamed.
Finally able to deal with it and move on, I now understood the wall that protects me can me also separate me from my dream, the past does not equal the future, and nobody can shake my confidence without my permission. Back to life again, I reclaimed my power!
Epilogue
The ringing phone startled me out of deep thought. Amazingly, it was my childhood friend Linda. After catching up on all that had transpired over the past twenty-five years, I turned the subject to her father. How could I not? Her call was just too coincidental!
She told me she’d struggled with truth and fiction her whole life, but that her mother had always believed my story about that night. Suddenly, I felt at peace. The last of the dream stealers banished, I said goodbye to Linda and set about to rock my entrepreneurial world with confidence!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: An “on and off” entrepreneur for the past 21 years, Roe DeSaro began her career in the corporate arena on Wall Street. She quickly broke several “class ceilings,” most notably becoming the first female, non-stockbroker, to become vice president & regional director of marketing & sales for a prominent firm. It was during the “mergers & acquisition” era on Wall Street that Roe began her entrepreneurial missions. Today she runs a successful home-based business for a lifestyle company that markets travel-centric products. From Bond broker, to Stockbroker to FunBroker, she is creating more fun, freedom, and fulfillment in other people’s lives.
RoseMarie Couture DeSaro
FunBroker Benefits & Co.
Roe@funnwealth.com
732.673.1763
|
