The Beginning of My Life
I was not a child born of wealth or privilege. I was child born to two people who in my opinion now, were not the very best of people.
I do like to promote a happy positive light even on the not so very great of people, but there are times where we do have to acknowledge the toxic people within our circles.
My mother was first married to boy, at the age of 15 because she was pregnant with my older brother.
I am not sure when the divorce was finalized, but I do know that she married my father around the age of 18. I was born while she was 19.
It wasn’t long after my birth that my mother ran away from my father.
From this point, I do not know exactly the timeline of how things happened. I have memories of living in a single wide mobile home somewhere in Montana, where there were fields and farmhouses.
It was around the age of 3, my older brother was 6, when social services came sniffing around to take my brother and I away.
I don’t remember exactly how it happened, or the particulars of why, but I didn’t go with him like I was supposed to.
My mother had two more husbands and a series of boyfriends for the next 2 1/2 years, remembering the names of basically all of them.
One of these “men” (and I use that term loosely) fathered a child with my mother, and still to this day does not know he has a now middle-aged son.
She never told him, and ended up marrying her 5th husband only months before my younger brother was born. I understand why she never told him, he was even more abusive than the man she was about to marry.
She had only known the 5th hubby a whole month before marrying him, and was abusive to me right from the start.
Understand, I was never taught things like, how to clean up my toys, or evening know what a toothbrush was yet.
We moved in with this man I didn’t know, and after two weeks of living with him, he had asked me to clean up my toys. Believing I was such a smart little girl, and only have an empty closet and a bed (no dresser or toy box) I piled up all of my toys in the corner of the bedroom.
That was my first experience of being tossed dragged across the mobile home by my hair and being tossed into my room.
He yelled because I didn’t do it right, and told me to try again. So I made the same pile only in the closet instead of in the corner. Again, this was obviously not what he wanted.
Only months later, I was well accustomed to his abuse. I turned 6 that Halloween of 1981, and my brother was born only two months later.
Over the years, thankfully, I was his only rag doll. My brother did not have to endure his abuses. But in those years, I had lost my hearing in my left ear, which I still have some complications with, a few times because of having it boxed by his hand. My right knee had been dislocated because he hit me with an Electrolux vacuum power head. I have to this day, physical visible scars from being hit and thrown into corners, walls, kicked, hit, and even at times pushed.
At the age of 15, I was finally rescued by this man’s sister, her husband, and his parents. Being moved across the country.
Eventually there will be writings in more details of different moments of this time in my life, but I don’t write this to paint how bad I had it in life.
I am writing this to give my readers a glimpse into what a came from, so that they can see that no matter what your back ground has been, any adversity of the past can be overcome and turned into something beautiful and positive.
There is a catch to being the type of person that I am today though. There were many internal issues that I had to over come.
The worst one: Overcoming being the “Victim” – For a few years in my 20’s, I felt as if I was “owed” reparations for what happened to me as a child. I used the excuse “I was an abused child, so you need to have sympathy for me”
I never understood why that wouldn’t give me the credit I felt I deserved in order to be lazy and entitled.
I also didn’t have any empathy for anyone who were lazy and entitled for no reason except their mommies and daddies yelled at them.
(Honestly, though, I do still have some empathy issues for those who feel “abused” simply because their parents told them no.)
My stories from here, are not meant to draw sympathy, or even pity, because I am a self-made, extremely happy individual with so much love to give. My stories are tools for my readers to understand, there is a way out of the darkness of your mind, in both thought and emotions.
It does take time, and it does take a lot of personal perseverance, but it is possible.
For now, keep your chin up my lovelies! You are only just steps away from your happiest possible life!
I will be here to listen and to give you my best advice.