I ADORED the lake I grew up on. I swam to my Nana’s house which was directly across the lake from us on a regular basis. I swam every day the water was warm enough to swim in. I was never scared of the water but I was PETRIFIED of the weeds. The weeds were my red zone.
My neighbor through the woods would infrequently baby sit us. When ever she got the opportunity she would throw me into the weeds and laugh. I so hated her for doing that.I am pretty sure I still can’t stand her for doing that. She had to be about 10 years older than we were. It invoked such fear. When I waterskied I stayed far from the weeds.
One day I was sitting on someone’s shoulders in the lake. He grabbed my hands and pulled my face down underwater. Then he came back up and pulled my arms down again. Over and over again so that I was literally drowning. It was a game people played in the lake like marco polo and everyone always laughed. So funny to be playing and then yank someone’s face underwater.
I didn’t like the weeds. I didn’t like having my face yanked underwater. Those were my two red zones in that lake. Other than that, the lake was a place that I felt alive, serene, peaceful, and free.
This picture is of the exact weeds. They were on the corner of our property of the lake front. All white sandy bottom and clear except that one patch of weeds. I guess anyone in Florida or out would say, “Well that is a logical fear because of the snakes and alligators.” But I wasn’t afraid of those things. I was just afraid of those stupid weeds.
I was thinking about the feeling of being dunked underwater. I was thinking of the person who thought it was funny to slam my face under and not let me breathe. I was thinking about that neighbor who thought it was funny to throw me into the thing I was most afraid of. I was thinking of these red zones.
For someone who does not know what it feels like to be molested. Find your red zone. Multiply it by 1000. Then you will understand.