Trauma Chats with MacKenzie Mae

My Taekwondo Coach Molested Me (My CSA Story)

February 07, 2023 MacKenzie Mae Episode 1
Trauma Chats with MacKenzie Mae
My Taekwondo Coach Molested Me (My CSA Story)
Show Notes Transcript

Today's Trauma Chat is about my personal child sexual abuse (CSA) story. My taekwondo coach molested me when I was 9-13 years old. In this episode, I share the backstory of before my abuse, how it began, what the actual abuse consisted of, and how it eventually came to an end. 

I hope from sharing my story, fellow survivors can feel less alone, have someone to relate to, or even find their own voice in their healing journey. I hope allies can learn from my story to better understand other survivors or maybe compel them to seek more education on the topic. 

Healing requires energy, vulnerability, and hard work. It’s a lifelong journey and it's never linear. Whatever season you're in on your healing journey, hold on to hope. <3

I hope you have a lovely rest of your day!
Love,
MacKenzie Mae


For help NOW!
RAINN National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-HOPE

For boys and men specifically: 1-800-656-4673

More resources here! https://linktr.ee/traumachatspodcast

For the first chat of this podcast, I am going to tell my personal sexual abuse story. 3 years ago, I never imagined sharing my story to anyone outside of my close-knit circle, let alone my very own podcast about sexual trauma for the whole world to listen to. I shared my story with less than 10 of the people closest to me before I was contacted by NBC when I was 20 asking if I would share my story on national television. This was in 2020 shortly after the sexual abuse accusations against Larry Nassar, Harvey Weinstein, Jeffrey Epstein, and many others were heavily televised and the #MeToo movement began. I had only dabbled in therapy at this point and was barely beginning my healing journey. The investigative reporter was very understanding and convinced that sharing my story would help so many people though and my only wish ever since I disclosed my abuse was to prevent my abuser from abusing any other child. I remember when I was 13 after my investigative interview at the child advocacy center when my mom asked me what I needed. My response was asking two questions. Will I ever have to see him, as in my abuser, again? And What about the other kids? My mom and I had many struggles preventing him legally, and it haunted me every day that another child might end up like me. So, soon after I was contacted by NBC, I called the reporter back and told her I would tell my story. Within a month or two, an NBC crew of 4 flew out to my childhood home located in a town of 1200 people in rural Missouri. NBC hired a local photographer to take images of me in my childhood bedroom which was in the same condition I had left it since moving out for college. My room shown in those images was the aftermath of spending the whole summer following 7th grade reinventing my identity after I had disclosed my abuse. I wanted to change everything about myself so I was unrecognizable by my abuser and could feel like I was in control for the first time in a long time. I highlighted my hair blonde, changed the part in my hair, stopped wearing glasses even though I couldn’t see, completely changed my wardrobe and painted my room coral pink and sky blue. That was the bedroom shown in those photos, but the bedroom looked much different during my abuse. During that time, every wall was a different color. Purple, yellow, blue, pink. With flowers and other little girl stenciled touches. Even my dressers were covered in flowers until I painted them after disclosing. Soon after the photographer finished up, the rest of the crew arrived. There were two producers setting up their equipment for a couple hours. They brought a whole van of suitcases filled with equipment. I was shocked thinking they put all of that through airport security all the way from New York City to interview me. On top of that, Stephanie Gosk was the woman who interviewed my mom and I. She had interviewed Aly Raisman, Simone Biles, and other survivors of Larry Nassar’s abuse and covered stories on the Harvey Weinstein case right around the same time she interviewed me. She also covered the Jeffrey Epstein case and the list goes on. Knowing this, my mom and I felt extremely grateful she was willing to interview us on our story. The interviews were emotional and powerful. I was terrified. The house was dark, with bright lights shining on Stephanie and I. There’s no way to prepare for this type of interview. I remember sitting down in the chair in front of Stephanie, taking a deep breath, and realizing that soon the whole world would have access to my deepest, darkest, secret. At the same time, I felt strong. Finally, 11 years after the abuse began, I was unsilenced. I used my voice and I courageously told my story. Afterwards, my mom and sister embraced me and told me how proud they were. I had wished my dad was there to embrace me as well, but I understood why he wasn’t. He has never been able to speak about my abuse, but he has always made me feel loved, supported, and cared for. And I know if he was able to be there that day, he would’ve. I remember watching my mom being interviewed afterwards. I was standing next to my oldest sister who had tears running down her face. I warmly embraced her to hopefully bring her comfort. I hadn’t heard my mom talk in depth about the guilt she felt having her child abused by a close friend and the trauma that caused her. In that moment, I felt immense sadness for the pain my mom had felt along with overwhelming gratitude for her. I was able to conceptualize the strength she has knowing the endless love and support she gave me over the years while deeply suffering as well. That experience was an early catalyst in my healing journey I never knew I would appreciate so much. Unfortunately, Covid hit the week after NBC came to my house to interview me, and the story was postponed until May of 2022. In hindsight, I think this timing was perfect for me. I was able to graduate college and move to California and had a year of work behind me before the world would hear my story. After the segment was aired, I received countless messages from people in my past personal life, new friends I had just met, and others from around the world reaching out to me telling me how much sharing my story had helped them, how they had never told anyone what happened to them before, and how it helped their family start a collective healing journey for a member of them that went through similar abuse. This opened my eyes to the impact telling my story can have and inspired me to start this podcast. I’ve found that telling my story is healing for me as well. Each time I tell it, I feel more empowered than before. I am finally able to use my voice after being silenced for all the years I was abused and silenced for years after I disclosed from the shame I felt towards it. 

So here we go again! I’ll begin with sharing a little backstory of before the abuse, then how it started, what happened during it, and how it finally ended. I will save the impacts it’s had on me and on many survivors alike for future episodes, so be sure to subscribe so you don’t miss those. 

When I was 4 or 5 years old, I was at the YMCA and my parents asked me if I wanted to do dance or taekwondo. I was a huge tomboy so of course I chose taekwondo. As soon as I started, I fell in love with it. My parents always tell me the story of my first tournament where there were no other little girls to fight so I had to spar a boy. I was teeeeny tiny with pigtails and I just bawled crying. There was no way they expected me to spar a boy at my first tournament ever! My parents consoled me and assured me that I’ve got this! I’m a strong and powerful girl and I know what I’m doing! It doesn’t matter that he’s a boy! So I jumped into the sparring rink wiping my tears from my face, and as my parents tell the story, I fought my heart out, ended up winning the match, getting first place, and sadly, the boy ended up crying in the end. My trophy was as big as I was and I was ecstatic! It threw me further into my love for the sport. I kept with it and at around 7 or 8 years old, I had to move taekwondo studios because my instructor started a family and it was too much to handle a family and a studio. The new one was just around the corner from the old one and all of my friends were moving there as well, plus I got to meet new friends so it wasn’t that bad. It started off lovely! There were many instructors including my original one who I looked up to. I remember meeting one instructor who taught a lot of the children’s classes. He was bald, with blue eyes, and had a very friendly, smiley, likeable vibe to him. His name was Thomas Hardin. All the kids and parents seemed to adore him. He was in his mid-twenties at this time and married to a woman a few years younger than him. They had adopted three young children from a family member unfit to care for them. The kids would’ve been split up and put into foster care if they hadn’t. Of course parents would look at Thomas and his wife for being careless, kind, and compassionate because taking in three kids at such a young age is a huge commitment. They had also recently had a child of their own. And later, my family was told of stories painting the picture that Thomas had even rescued his wife from an abusive home, so he was truly seen as a caregiver who was great with women and kids. He taught most of the Little Ninja classes, which were the classes for kids under 8 I believe, as well as afterschool programs, the demonstration team, and other general classes. As I said, I was incredibly dedicated to taekwondo, so I joined the demo team. We would do demonstrations at the town and country fair, in various parades, and at other events. I think through my involvement on the demo team, Thomas quickly acknowledged my talent for the sport and began to pay special attention to me. I, as well as a select few others, were doing very well in tournaments and wanted to train harder to go to bigger and better tournaments. Thomas decided to start a competition team for the elite competitors at our studio. I was over the moon! I was so grateful that he was willing to create this team and spend more time to help us succeed. By this time, I was training 6 days a week at 8 or 9 years old, dedicated to becoming the best I could be. When I was 9 years old, Six Flags was having a competition to promote the new Karate Kid movie, called the Karate Kid challenge. This competition was being held by all six flags locations in the US and involved a choreographed routine with a sensai and their Karate kid that would be videoed and the public would vote online. The top three winners would be invited to the Karate Kid premiere in Los Angeles where the overall winner would be announced. Runner-ups would get a local private showing of the movie and could invite up to 50 people, along with other small prizes. Thomas asked me if I wanted to enroll in the competition with him and create a routine to compete. I was SO excited. I mean, the top coach wanted ME to do a choreographed routine with him to compete at my favorite amusement park for the chance to go to LA. Of course I said yes. 

Unfortunately, this is when the abuse began. To prepare for this competition, we started having private sessions after everyone left the studio around 9pm multiple times a week. My mom would stay with us to watch and being the thoughtful person she is, she would offer to pick up some snacks and drinks from a nearby gas station periodically while we were practicing. On one of my mom’s outings to grab me my favorite drink, a frozen coke, as she had done many times before, Thomas had him and I practice a part in the routine where I would handspring in front of him then wrap my legs around him and fake punch his face. This time though, Thomas wouldn’t let me down after that move and started grabbing my butt. He asked me if it was okay and as a 9 year old, I had no idea how to respond. I didn’t know what was happening to me at the time. I didn’t understand why he wanted to do that. I felt uncomfortable but I had always been taught to respect your elders, especially if they were higher ranking, and follow directions. Plus the five tenants of taekwondo are courtesy, integrity, perseverance, self control, and indomitable spirit. Before each class, everyone would recite the tenants and of course a 3rd degree black belt instructor who was an adult male would follow those, right? I was so confused. I just wanted my mom to get back because I knew it wasn’t right and he definitely wouldn’t do it in front of her. Over and over again, as my mom would leave for a few minutes here and there, Thomas continued to repeat that part of the routine and molest me in the same way. At some point he began to just ask if he could “pick me up” instead of going through the whole routine. Each time he abused me, he stressed the importance of keeping it a secret. That I couldn’t tell anyone, especially not my parents, because no one would believe me and/or we would both get in trouble and I wouldn’t be able to become the Olympian I dreamed of being. Eventually the competition time came. We performed at Six Flags St. Louis, were recorded, and now it was up to the public to vote online. To promote our contribution, two local television channels reached out to have us do the routine live. I remember my classmates at school finding out and begging the teachers to play the news clips and the recordings on our new smartboards for the whole class to see. As I sat there watching it among them, I felt completely isolated and alone as my abuser was not only getting away with abuse, but being praised constantly even by people he didn’t know. We didn’t win the top three, but we did win our division and got the private screening and other prizes. I got to invite 50 people to a fancy movie theater to see the Karate Kid from winning a competition that started my abuse where everyone was praising me and my abuser for the great job we did and the dedication we put towards it. The abuse only continued and worsened from there. After the competition, Thomas asked me to start assistant teaching at the other studios he taught at. On Mondays, I would ride in his van with him for 30 minutes to one studio. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturday mornings, I was at my original studio, and Thursdays and Saturday afternoons, I drove an hour with him to another studio. I did this from ages 9-13. My whole life was consumed by taekwondo and him. Each summer, I would drive over an hour with only him three days a week to teach kids at summer camp the same age as me. My parents and everyone around me trusted Thomas because of his grooming acts and manipulation. My mother did taekwondo too and would help a lot with the competition team and considered him a good friend of hers. And my dad received private lessons from him as well. Thomas and his whole family even joined mine for Christmas in my own home. Since the couple was young with four kids, my parents would help plan birthday parties and buy them presents for birthdays and Christmases and the list goes on and on with the love they showed those kids. They never had a thought Thomas would be capable of such abuse. They didn’t see what happened behind closed doors when he would verbally abuse his wife and children, hit his young children, yank them by their little arms, and throw them across the living room. When I was over, if the kids weren’t immediately sent to time out after they were verbally or physically abuse, they would run to me and cry in my arms while I consoled them. My parents, especially my dad, were hypervigilant about safety. My dad was adamant about a good alarm system for our home, he would pass up our driveway if he thought someone was following us and he was and always has been very aware of his surroundings. My parents thought they were teaching me to be a good kid by respecting authority and following directions. They like many other parents were naïve when it came to abuse. They had a relatively good view of people in the world and surely those close to them were similar to them in always looking out for children and their safety. They put trust in a man who on the outside seemed compassionate and caring, but they didn’t know the real him. Unfortunately, the majority of abuse victims know their abuser and the victim along with everyone around them are manipulated and groomed to allow the abuser to continue to abuse. 

So now I am going to go more in depth on what the abuse consisted of. The same type of abuse was repeated but in various locations and various severities. At my main studio, Thomas would keep me after class and pull me into the back room where only instructors were allowed. He would lock the doors so no one could get in and I couldn’t escape easily. When driving from studio to studio, we would drive on backroads with many trees and places to pull off on behind the trees where no one could see. He would make me get in the backseat with him and close the doors. At his home, he would kick his kids out of their rooms in the basement, tell his wife not to let them down, lock the door and lead me to the messy, dark, basement onto his son’s bed. On a couple occasions to taekwondo tournaments out of state, he would fly down with me and ancouple other kids first so we could get there early before our parents were able to take off work. How thoughtful and selfless of him right? He would choose hotel rooms with multiple doors that could be locked. He would tell the other kids that he needed to have a conversation with me only and lock me in the room with him with the other kids right outside watching the TV. Those were the main locations he would abuse me, but not all of them. His signature sexual abuse was asking to pick me up, press my back against a wall, hold me by my butt and fondle it. Overtime he began to go underneath my clothing and closer and closer to my private areas. He would caress my body with his sweaty, cold hands, rub my pre-pubescent breasts and tell me I would grow boobs one day. He would kiss and lick my neck and face, but would ask to kiss my lips, which I bravely said no to each time and he somehow listened. He would confess how much he loved me and make me say it back to him. I had only ever told my family I loved them. I didn’t know what romantic love was. He would go on about how we would get married one day and he couldn’t wait for that time to come. I remember confusion filling my head, wondering what would happen to his wife if we got married. I thought marriage was about true love and not between someone almost 20 years older than me. None of my friends or I had ever even talked about boys yet, that was for when I got to at least middle school. Thomas convinced my parents that they should let me stay at his house often because I would be practicing late on Friday night and I had practice again at 7:30 on saturday morning anyways, plus his kids adored me and just loved having me over. My parents didn’t have a clue that I was being abused because 1 I complied with Thomas’ threats, didn’t say anything, and didn’t want to upset anyone and 2 because my parents weren’t educated on the signs that a child is being abused. Many times when I would stay the night before Saturday practice, I would be awoken early in the morning on the pullout couch in his home’s living room with his daughter sleeping next to me by feeling him caress my body and face, waking me up, and forcing me to go to the kitchen just on the other side of the living room, and near his bedroom where his wife was still asleep so he could molest me before anyone woke up and before we had to go to practice. He even invited me to his family’s lake house at the Lake of the Ozarks on multiple occasions. There was a bunk bed that his daughter and I would sleep on. I would beg her to let me sleep on the top bunk, but Thomas wouldn’t allow that and forced me to sleep on the bottom. He did this to give him easy access to me for each morning of the trip when he would awaken me in the same way he would in his own home, by caressing my face and body and taking me to an empty room to molest me. When others started to wake up, the abuse would end for a while and I would blend in with his children playing alongside them. To abuse me during waking hours, when everyone would be down at the dock swimming, he would take me away from the group, wrap me up in a towel and march back up to the house, lock the door, and molest me in my favorite blue and yellow monkey bathing suit that had plastic yellow bananas dangling on each side of the bottom’s strings. To groom me and keep me silent, he would pay me for assistant teaching and buy me presents. This all went on until I was 13 the summer after 7th grade and mustered up the courage to say something to my best friend. 

On Thursday, June 21st 2012, I was riding in the passenger seat of Thomas’ van alone with him on the way to the studio an hour away when he was expressing his love for me, gave me a blue painted rose, and informed me once again that we would get married one day. I knew what he was doing was wrong and had known what he had been doing to me since I was 9 was wrong. But now things were different. In fact, I had managed to halt the physical sexual abuse for a month or so by this time by begging his children or my peers to go to the studios out of town with me so I wouldn’t have to be alone in the van with him, by subtly telling my parents I didn’t want to go to practice or I felt sick and couldn’t go, or making plans with friends on Friday nights to evade being pressured to stay the night at Thomas’ home for Saturday morning practice. I tried my hardest to stop the abuse myself and I think Thomas was noticing. I was going through puberty, had one year of middle school done, and started hearing a lot about sex, relationships, and more as many people going through puberty learn. I also religiously watched a show called Make It Or Break It. It was about elite gymnasts ultimately training for the 2012 London Olympics. One of the characters in the show, Jordan, ends up disclosing to a close friend that a coach who trained her as a young girl molested her for years. As I watched this, I remember crying and realizing that what she was disclosing was almost exactly what was happening to me. She mentions how her abuser told her to keep it a secret because no one would believe her, that it was what she wanted, and that he would destroy her gymnastics career if anyone found out. This episode changed everything for me. I had always believed Thomas when he would threaten me that no one would believe me and I would lose everything in taekwondo if I said anything, but this episode offered me a new perspective. If I told a close friend who cares about me, they will believe me, I wouldn’t lose everything, and HE would be the one getting in trouble, not me. After watching that episode, I gradually found the courage and strength within me to tell a close friend of mine. So, on our drive to the studio after receiving the rose and listening to him babble about his love for me, I decided it was time and I needed to text my best friend and tell her what had been going on since I was 9 years old. I begged her not to tell anyone because I knew my parents would find out. The biggest competition of the year was less than a month away and I didn’t want my teammates to go without a coach if Thomas was let go, so I promised my friend I would say something after the competition. My friend who was also 13 searched online what I was describing in text and explained that what Thomas was doing was called molesting. No 13 year old should find out the meaning of molestation in that way. My friend believed me and responded only with support for me and anger towards him. On Thursdays, my dad would meet me at the studio to train and we would drive home together. So just like any other Thursday, we finished up class and made it back home. I figured my friend kept her promise of not saying anything. Little did I know what was happening while my dad and I were training. My friend, thankfully, told her mom who then told my mom when she was returning home from teaching class and closing up the main taekwondo studio we went to. She had my mom pull over and explained what was said in the texts between me and her daughter. My friend’s mom expressed how heartbroken my friend was that she had broken her promise to me not to tell anyone, but she knew she had to and I will forever be grateful for her. My mom thanked her, hung up, and struggled to determine her next call. Does she call the police right now? Do she call my dad? She couldn’t call my dad while he was in the same vicinity as my abuser, afraid of how he might react. She decided she would call our main instructor first, as well as another high-ranking instructor whom she trusted. She met up with the instructors before going to the police station. The police explained that I would have to come in and give a statement. After leaving the police station, my mom texted my dad saying she would meet us at home. When she got home, my dad and I were already there. She found my dad and explained everything. I was sleeping on the couch, and I remember being woken up and told something had happened, I wasn’t in trouble, I just needed to get up and get in the truck. I knew in that moment that my parents found out about the abuse I endured for 3 years. It was around midnight by the time we got to the police station. My parents and I were taken into a private room and an officer introduced herself to us. She asked me if I knew why I was there. I answered yes and she explained that I would need to share everything that happened. As tears started welling up in my eyes, I asked if I could just tell my mom, turned to my dad and said, “Daddy, can you wait outside?” I didn’t want him to have to hear the details. The officer left my mom and I in the room to write everything out. I was too traumatized to write anything, so I asked mom to write it. It took a while to get any words out, so my mom began by asking me when it started. I answered, “the karate kid challenge,” she responded, “that was two years ago,” I nodded. She continued with “how did that happen? I was there!” I responded with, “not when you went to get slushies.” After that night at the police station, my parents were convinced Thomas would be arrested, but that was far from what happened. The next year was extremely taxing on my family and I. I was interviewed at the child advocacy center, being visited by child services, getting a restraining order, and my mom was trying her hardest to get justice. I refused therapy and wouldn’t speak of the abuse again for years because of the shame I felt. My parents were in fear every day that we would run into Thomas or he would come to the house and retaliate. 

So that is my story of my abuse. I will go more into the moments and years after and the impacts it’s had on my life growing up and as an adult in future episodes. I want to thank you for listening. I know this is very heavy and that can be expected with this topic. But I hope listening to me share my story was helpful in some way. Maybe to make you feel less alone or to relate to. Or maybe to gain understanding of of sexual abuse. Growing up I remember searching and searching for others’ stories and at that time there were very few, but the few that were there, helped me SO much. I don’t know how much longer the abuse would’ve continued if I hadn’t watched those episodes of Make It or Break It, if my friend hadn’t told her mom, and if I didn’t have such supportive, loving parents. Please remember that although this episode is focusing on the abuse and hurt, there is loads of hope and healing as well! I think it’s helpful to start here though to show the reality of abuse.