Reflections

In the beginning God created the heaven and earth. After that, all bets were off because people lost their fucking minds.

I have very few memories of my mother before the age of 10. It was that summer when she told me she was taking my sister and me away from my dad because she was divorcing him. I didn't question anything about her at that time. I thought the things she told me about my dad were true because I had nothing with which to disprove her incessant ramblings about what a bastard my father was. I had already been fighting for my own survival for more than five years and what she was doing to our family didn't register because I was already living in my own hell, all she did was change the location.

Before my mom left with Penny and me, my dad worked long hours and would sometimes be gone for days. He went wherever there was construction to support his family while my mom stayed at home. Except she didn't stay at home. I can remember getting off the school bus and running up the long driveway to...nothing. I have no memories of her being there to greet us. She wasn't a milk and cookies kind of mom. I remember almost nothing about her, only little snippets.

I remember being taken from my bed by the eldest brother and put in a dark closet so he could get a blowjob. The carpeting was black and felt like steel wool under me. I remember the second eldest brother taking me into the bathroom for the very same reason. Except he took it further by taking me into our parent's bathroom and forcing me to shove a tampon into my vagina. The carpet was pale blue and felt soft like cotton under me. I remember the third eldest brother dragging me into his bed to hump up against me. The abuse by all three brothers continued for years and before I turned nine. The second eldest boy also physically and verbally abused me all through junior high and high school. The third eldest had sex with me when I was 11 or 12 years old. Then it stopped.

No, it really didn't.

The brothers had friends and many sexually abused me too. My mom's boyfriend made a few unsuccessful attempts with me, yet his adult son raped me when I was around 15 years old. I felt like a prostitute that worked for free.

I grew up with an extremely warped sense that all of this was normal and, because of that, was reflected in all the relationships I had as an adult.

Many girls dream about falling in love, getting married and having babies I, however, was not one of them.

I was hyperfocused on getting away from all the people who hurt me yet I couldn't run fast enough or far enough to break free of my past.  I spent so much energy and time in bad relationships/marriages that it took years to find my center. I had no idea what a healthy marriage/relationship was, except for my paternal grandparents, and it was something I would have to figure out on my own.

Everything about me and my life changed on May 12, 1999 -- when Henry walked through my door. EVERYTHING.