RJ Testerman as a young man, in the middle and now.
I was 12 and RJ was 32 when we met. I was babysitting for an old friend of his from back home in Ohio, Micky. She lived in Redwood City and he would come down from SF to visit. He came down regularly for parties and to visit Micky. RJ groomed me but honestly, it didn’t take much. I was already solidly into double digit ACEs and completely vulnerable. He paid attention to me, he told me I was smart and had all the family trauma under control. He narrated a world of power, one I never before had a part in. I adored him for even noticing I existed. He spent time explaining to me what was going on with the older woman around me, always smirking like he was just letting me know that he knew what I was thinking. It made me feel excited, nervous, and special, so special.
The First Time
It was around 3 months after my 13th birthday when we had sex the first time. That first night was rainy, and the house was filled with drunken party guests. The fold-out sofa in the living room was the only bed left. I didn’t resist, but I don’t remember really enjoying it either. It just felt like a relief to get it over with. I hadn’t had my period yet, but my body developed early and so did the feeling of being wanted by men. My virginity seemed so important to everyone. After it was over, RJ’s sister, Rhonda, walked through the room when we were laying in bed smoking. She had run out into the rain earlier after a fight with RJ. She looked at us but never said anything. Nor did anyone else when the sober light of morning had everyone up waiting turns for the bathroom and coffee. RJ told me to tell no one or we would get in trouble, especially him. He told me to stop writing in my journal and explained how to get birth control from Planned Parenthood. I remember clearly how he pressed his finger into mine and passed me a burning roach, I thought he was so smart because neither of us got burned. I remember every moment from that night.
Thirteen to Sixteen Years Old
That lumpy fold-out would become our bed; cuddling up in his arms after sex we would smoke, and he would stroke my hair. It meant everything to me. He continued to come down to have sex, calling ahead to make sure Micky was going out. Sometimes he came with women he was dating to visit Micky or come to a party. We would have sex on the sly, sometimes while these women were in the room or close by. The fear of being caught was excruciating for me, but he loved it. He even got married and divorced during this time. The whole time RJ would tell me it was me wanting to do this. I didn’t necessarily believe him as much as I wanted him to believe it about me. To believe I was special, extra smart, and beautiful. That I was in control and loving it. I did everything he said and told no one. I liked his narrative of my life, absolving pain from the past and describing my path forward. It was much prettier than anything I had ever come up with or anything I had ever thought possible for myself. The belief that he saved me started here. We continued like this 1 to 4 times a month for almost three years. I lived from visit to visit.
Leaving Home
The rest of my world crumbled around me slowly but steadily, all the secrets isolating me. I trusted no one but him, I was so grateful to him for saving me. At 15 I had already spent a summer out of the house, and by 16 I was packed up and on my way to SF to work for him in hair salons. He had said to just let him know when I was ready, and he would set me up. I didn’t understand what he meant by that till much later. When I arrived in SF, he invited me over to his apartment on Russian Hill that he shared with his girlfriend Deborah. He screwed me on the green velvet couch in their living room after she went to sleep. I started working for him after that, assisting in the hair salons where he rented space. I will write more later about this time and living in the Tenderloin of San Francisco in the early 80’s.
Trauma Resources: There are some links and books I found helpful under Links/Resources if you are looking for answers. Feel free to contact me directly through the contact page, and may you also find the strength to make peace with your daemons.
Thank you for your time,
Christine Talbott Acosta
