Hi all,
My abuse started when I was 5 years old, at least that is the first that I remember it having happened. I never was really certain how old I was, but I remembered the outfit I was wearing the first time it happened, and I found a picture that I was wearing that outfit in, and the date was on the back of the photo. That was 1977.
It all started out so innocently; but, I guess that's how abusers work. They gain your trust, and slowly but surely, they have total control over you. It started with a piggy back ride on my oldest sister's husband. He was 28. I was 5. My Mom worked, so my one sister babysat me. Her home was right next to my other sister's home, and I would go over there to play with their kids. The abuse went on for years. I remember one time, my own brother walked into my abusers house, walked back the hallway, opened up a bedroom door, and there I was, tied fast to the bedposts while he performed oral sex on me, and my brother just laughed, turned around and walked back out, shutting the door behind him.
One Christmas day, my entire family was at my Aunt's house for Christmas dinner when we got a phone call saying my sister's house was on fire. By the time the fire department got there it was too late. The water was freezing so there was no hope of putting the fire out. So, my sister and her husband and their 3 kids came to live with us. What horror! He now had, "access" to me 24/7. There were so many times that I tried to tell my Mom. It always seemed like it was at bedtime I would get up and cross the hall into her and my Dad's bedroom, because I thought I had finally mustered enough courage to tell her, but my Dad would always yell and, tell me to get to bed. I never told till I was in 8th grade. The way it came out was horrible. I ended up being promiscuous with boys. It never went to a sexual level, but just really trashy talk, which I had learned from my abuser. Well, one day the mother of this boy that I had written a letter to called my house. She had my dad get on one phone, and my mom on the other and she proceeded to read this letter to them. Now, mind you, it was worthy of pent house I'm guessing. Needless to say, my Mom had me sit down at the kitchen table. I can remember it like it was yesterday. Which seat I was in, where my Mom sat, and my Dad, and the fact that no one else was home. At that time, it was only my brother and me living at home, and he happened to be at a school football game. It was a Friday night.
The first thing my Mom said to me was, "are you a virgin?". Well, I had NO IDEA how I was supposed to answer that question. I mean, technically, no, I wasn't, but not by my choice. So, I sat there and didn't really have a clue what to say. Finally, I said, "no". Her first question was, "who I was sleeping around with, was it this boy that's mother just called?". I said, "no". "Then, who?" she asked. I told her, "my sister's husband" Well, anyway, she about jumped out of her seat and immediately called me a liar. I couldn't believe it!!! I was like totally shocked. In my head, all I kept thinking was what he had told me all those years. You know, the things they say to keep you in the "shame" so you'll stay quiet and not tell the, "secret". I was thinking, oh my God, he was right, if I told, no one would believe me. It all happened so fast, but in those mere moments, all these things were running through my mind. Was he right? Is it my fault, did I want him to do this to me? Is no one going to believe me, and am I about to get into big trouble? Is he going to kill me because I finally told?
Well, to sum that night up, my Mom said that she was not about to tell my sister what had happened, because she didn't want to "ruin their marriage because they had 3 kids together". I was still in shock and thinking, you have to be joking me. What marriage? I mean seriously? Why would you not want to tell? Do you not think he may be doing the same thing to their kids?
Long story short, (maybe not short, but shorter).... I grew up feeling like no one really cared about me. No one loved me. If your own parents are supposed to be there for you and they aren't, then what? I grew up feeling so in shame, so unloved, so unworthy of love, so much a, "no body". Like, my sister was more important than me. I also got the following from my Mom, "if you had come to us when this first started happening, maybe we would have done something about it." I thought, why should it matter when I came to you. I tried drilling into her head that I was AFRAID to tell. I just don't think she ever got it.
I had to pretty much live my entire life up to the point of moving out, "sucking it up" I had to watch everyone in my family treat him like he was the cat's meow. I had to put up with my own Mother, after knowing what he had done to me mind you, bake him birthday cakes, by him presents and sit at the dining room table playing cards with him.
Well, finally one year my sister was going away to Greece with the company she worked for. My Mom decided then that she would go to my sister and tell her what had happened because she didn't want him to be alone with their children. For two years, my sister didn't speak to me. She stayed with him for 4 years after having found this out. By then, I had married and was out of the house. I still had to put up with my mom doing the whole birthday/presents/card playing with him.
Skip forward to now.... or I'd be typing for ever and you'd be reading a book!!!
Just recently, our oldest daughter graduated from high school. We had a party for her here at our home and my Mom ended up saying some really inappropriate things which really embarrassed our girl. I pulled her aside and asked her to tone it down, and that she was hurting our daughter. She then got really upset and started telling our other kids that she shouldn't have come, no body really wanted her there. All my life, it's been a big pity party for my mom. In her eyes, no one has had it as bad as her, and whenever I've tried to express my feelings to her, it always turns out into how she had it so much worse than I did, and frankly, she just doesn't HEAR me. She's too busy making excuses for why she didn't do the right thing. Her story has always been, "I hope you are never put in a situation where you have to make a choice between your children". As though there were a choice? In my eyes, there was only 1 thing to do. That was to go to him and my sister tell her and put his butt in jail!!! But, that didn't happen. By the time I was old enough and ready emotionally to go forward and press charges against him, the statute had run out, it was too late.
So, I've said all this to get to this one final point. Where I am right now emotionally. I am so tired of going to family functions and pretending like we are all just one big happy family. I'm tired of "sucking it up" I'm tired of everyone treating me like I just need to pull up my boot straps and move on. The bottom line is this, I'm tired of living a lie, of being fake. Of pretending I love my whole family and enjoy being with them.
I've left out a few things, such as, that brother who walked in on me tied up, well, he sexually abused me as well. My dad did the same thing. And, as for my sisters' husband, he had sex with me in every way possible.
I have forgiven him. Not for his sake, as he has no idea I've forgiven him, but, for my sake. I confronted him many years ago, and he never really got it, but I got the relief of having left all my feelings and hurt by him on the table so to speak.
As for my Mom, I have forgiven her, but some times I find the hurt flaring up, and I have to forgive her again.
My siblings and my Dad are where I'm at right now. I'm torn because I know that if I stop going to family functions all together, it will hurt my Mom, and I don't want to do that. But, at the same time, I'm tired of going to family functions and acting like everything is just peachy keen.
There lies my dilemma.
A couple weeks ago, after my Mom and I got into it, my Husband and friends told me something that I had actually been told about 12 years ago by my counselor. That I needed to "divorce" my family so to speak and move on. Well, I have to say that when I made the decision to do that, I felt as though a ton of bricks were no longer holding me down. I felt free. I felt elated, I felt like I could be a better person, a better Mother, a better wife.
Well, In between then and now, I have talked to my Mom. I have told her everything that I have ever wanted to tell her, and for once I feel like she actually heard me. To the degree that she is capable of, if you get me. I know she is in her own pain from things in her life, so she is only capable of hearing and understanding to a point. But it was the FIRST time that I really felt like she got it. She said a lot of things to me that I've needed to hear all my life. It was amazing, to say the least. I did tell her that I wanted her to know if I didn't come to family gatherings, it wasn't her I was staying away from. I told her that I no longer wanted to pretend, or be fake or live a lie. There is so much dysfunction in my family. It's like no one talks at all, and then when everyone comes together at a gathering, it's like tense, and awkward and everyone kind of stays with their own family.
I want to have a relationship with my Mom, but I need to separate myself from my siblings. I know God is capable of anything, and maybe at some point He would work in my families lives and restore relationships.
A counselor I went to told me that sometimes you will do more harm than good my confronting people. I believe this to be true. There is a technique where you use an empty chair and get out all your feelings as if the people are actually there. I would like to try this, but there has never been a time when I've been all alone that I would be able to do it.
I know this has been really long, and I thank you for reading my story. I would so appreciate any words of wisdom. Thank you!
My abuse started when I was 5 years old, at least that is the first that I remember it having happened. I never was really certain how old I was, but I remembered the outfit I was wearing the first time it happened, and I found a picture that I was wearing that outfit in, and the date was on the back of the photo. That was 1977.
It all started out so innocently; but, I guess that's how abusers work. They gain your trust, and slowly but surely, they have total control over you. It started with a piggy back ride on my oldest sister's husband. He was 28. I was 5. My Mom worked, so my one sister babysat me. Her home was right next to my other sister's home, and I would go over there to play with their kids. The abuse went on for years. I remember one time, my own brother walked into my abusers house, walked back the hallway, opened up a bedroom door, and there I was, tied fast to the bedposts while he performed oral sex on me, and my brother just laughed, turned around and walked back out, shutting the door behind him.
One Christmas day, my entire family was at my Aunt's house for Christmas dinner when we got a phone call saying my sister's house was on fire. By the time the fire department got there it was too late. The water was freezing so there was no hope of putting the fire out. So, my sister and her husband and their 3 kids came to live with us. What horror! He now had, "access" to me 24/7. There were so many times that I tried to tell my Mom. It always seemed like it was at bedtime I would get up and cross the hall into her and my Dad's bedroom, because I thought I had finally mustered enough courage to tell her, but my Dad would always yell and, tell me to get to bed. I never told till I was in 8th grade. The way it came out was horrible. I ended up being promiscuous with boys. It never went to a sexual level, but just really trashy talk, which I had learned from my abuser. Well, one day the mother of this boy that I had written a letter to called my house. She had my dad get on one phone, and my mom on the other and she proceeded to read this letter to them. Now, mind you, it was worthy of pent house I'm guessing. Needless to say, my Mom had me sit down at the kitchen table. I can remember it like it was yesterday. Which seat I was in, where my Mom sat, and my Dad, and the fact that no one else was home. At that time, it was only my brother and me living at home, and he happened to be at a school football game. It was a Friday night.
The first thing my Mom said to me was, "are you a virgin?". Well, I had NO IDEA how I was supposed to answer that question. I mean, technically, no, I wasn't, but not by my choice. So, I sat there and didn't really have a clue what to say. Finally, I said, "no". Her first question was, "who I was sleeping around with, was it this boy that's mother just called?". I said, "no". "Then, who?" she asked. I told her, "my sister's husband" Well, anyway, she about jumped out of her seat and immediately called me a liar. I couldn't believe it!!! I was like totally shocked. In my head, all I kept thinking was what he had told me all those years. You know, the things they say to keep you in the "shame" so you'll stay quiet and not tell the, "secret". I was thinking, oh my God, he was right, if I told, no one would believe me. It all happened so fast, but in those mere moments, all these things were running through my mind. Was he right? Is it my fault, did I want him to do this to me? Is no one going to believe me, and am I about to get into big trouble? Is he going to kill me because I finally told?
Well, to sum that night up, my Mom said that she was not about to tell my sister what had happened, because she didn't want to "ruin their marriage because they had 3 kids together". I was still in shock and thinking, you have to be joking me. What marriage? I mean seriously? Why would you not want to tell? Do you not think he may be doing the same thing to their kids?
Long story short, (maybe not short, but shorter).... I grew up feeling like no one really cared about me. No one loved me. If your own parents are supposed to be there for you and they aren't, then what? I grew up feeling so in shame, so unloved, so unworthy of love, so much a, "no body". Like, my sister was more important than me. I also got the following from my Mom, "if you had come to us when this first started happening, maybe we would have done something about it." I thought, why should it matter when I came to you. I tried drilling into her head that I was AFRAID to tell. I just don't think she ever got it.
I had to pretty much live my entire life up to the point of moving out, "sucking it up" I had to watch everyone in my family treat him like he was the cat's meow. I had to put up with my own Mother, after knowing what he had done to me mind you, bake him birthday cakes, by him presents and sit at the dining room table playing cards with him.
Well, finally one year my sister was going away to Greece with the company she worked for. My Mom decided then that she would go to my sister and tell her what had happened because she didn't want him to be alone with their children. For two years, my sister didn't speak to me. She stayed with him for 4 years after having found this out. By then, I had married and was out of the house. I still had to put up with my mom doing the whole birthday/presents/card playing with him.
Skip forward to now.... or I'd be typing for ever and you'd be reading a book!!!
Just recently, our oldest daughter graduated from high school. We had a party for her here at our home and my Mom ended up saying some really inappropriate things which really embarrassed our girl. I pulled her aside and asked her to tone it down, and that she was hurting our daughter. She then got really upset and started telling our other kids that she shouldn't have come, no body really wanted her there. All my life, it's been a big pity party for my mom. In her eyes, no one has had it as bad as her, and whenever I've tried to express my feelings to her, it always turns out into how she had it so much worse than I did, and frankly, she just doesn't HEAR me. She's too busy making excuses for why she didn't do the right thing. Her story has always been, "I hope you are never put in a situation where you have to make a choice between your children". As though there were a choice? In my eyes, there was only 1 thing to do. That was to go to him and my sister tell her and put his butt in jail!!! But, that didn't happen. By the time I was old enough and ready emotionally to go forward and press charges against him, the statute had run out, it was too late.
So, I've said all this to get to this one final point. Where I am right now emotionally. I am so tired of going to family functions and pretending like we are all just one big happy family. I'm tired of "sucking it up" I'm tired of everyone treating me like I just need to pull up my boot straps and move on. The bottom line is this, I'm tired of living a lie, of being fake. Of pretending I love my whole family and enjoy being with them.
I've left out a few things, such as, that brother who walked in on me tied up, well, he sexually abused me as well. My dad did the same thing. And, as for my sisters' husband, he had sex with me in every way possible.
I have forgiven him. Not for his sake, as he has no idea I've forgiven him, but, for my sake. I confronted him many years ago, and he never really got it, but I got the relief of having left all my feelings and hurt by him on the table so to speak.
As for my Mom, I have forgiven her, but some times I find the hurt flaring up, and I have to forgive her again.
My siblings and my Dad are where I'm at right now. I'm torn because I know that if I stop going to family functions all together, it will hurt my Mom, and I don't want to do that. But, at the same time, I'm tired of going to family functions and acting like everything is just peachy keen.
There lies my dilemma.
A couple weeks ago, after my Mom and I got into it, my Husband and friends told me something that I had actually been told about 12 years ago by my counselor. That I needed to "divorce" my family so to speak and move on. Well, I have to say that when I made the decision to do that, I felt as though a ton of bricks were no longer holding me down. I felt free. I felt elated, I felt like I could be a better person, a better Mother, a better wife.
Well, In between then and now, I have talked to my Mom. I have told her everything that I have ever wanted to tell her, and for once I feel like she actually heard me. To the degree that she is capable of, if you get me. I know she is in her own pain from things in her life, so she is only capable of hearing and understanding to a point. But it was the FIRST time that I really felt like she got it. She said a lot of things to me that I've needed to hear all my life. It was amazing, to say the least. I did tell her that I wanted her to know if I didn't come to family gatherings, it wasn't her I was staying away from. I told her that I no longer wanted to pretend, or be fake or live a lie. There is so much dysfunction in my family. It's like no one talks at all, and then when everyone comes together at a gathering, it's like tense, and awkward and everyone kind of stays with their own family.
I want to have a relationship with my Mom, but I need to separate myself from my siblings. I know God is capable of anything, and maybe at some point He would work in my families lives and restore relationships.
A counselor I went to told me that sometimes you will do more harm than good my confronting people. I believe this to be true. There is a technique where you use an empty chair and get out all your feelings as if the people are actually there. I would like to try this, but there has never been a time when I've been all alone that I would be able to do it.
I know this has been really long, and I thank you for reading my story. I would so appreciate any words of wisdom. Thank you!
