Skeletons; Where it all Began...
I grew up without a biological mother, I mean I had a mom but not one who was technically mine. As a mother now, I still just don't understand how you abandon your daughter as an infant to live a shitty life, not even lavish, one full of prostitution, stripping, & drugs. I get addiction, I get being an addict but what I don't get is how a mother, any parent for that matter, can just up & leave their infant child to live with their other parent because you want to go get fucked up without any responsibilities holding you back. And what really baffles me is the fact that when SHE {the bio mom} was released from the hospital she basically kidnapped me & ran to Arizona, my father had to chase after her to get me back. So how do you go from taking your child to just washing your hands clean from them??? But you know what? I'm glad she did. If she hadn't, I wouldn't of had my mother, & without her I wouldn't be the woman & more importantly, the mother that I am today without her!
I love my Mother, she raised me when she didn't have to. I was just 8 months old when her & my father got together. She had her own children, an 8 year old son & she had just suffered the loss of her 4 year old son. Despite going through the most traumatic loss anyone could ever go through, she still took me in with open arms & an open heart when she wasn't obligated to. She was physical proof, the true definition of what a REAL mother is. I wish I could have told her just how much she meant to me & that despite all the fights, the running away, & any other bad thing that ever happened between us, she was my very best friend! It'll be 5 years this coming January since she's been gone & not a day goes by that I don't miss or think about her. The only advice I can give to anyone is this, cherish the moments that you get with your parents, or anyone, because tomorrow could easily be their last day here with you. We live to die & tomorrow is never promised. Life is a gift, live it wisely, & never ever take your days for granted.
As a kid I was a nerd. Big huge glasses, big buck teeth,n& in all GT & Honors classes the true target for any bully or mean person. It was so bad that when Recess came out I was no longer Christina or (to my family) Chrissy, I was now Gretchen; a tall, geeky, smart, nerd with glasses & buck teeth. Even today, when I show someone pictures of me from my childhood they will even refer to me as Gretchen without me telling them the story, smh. Up until I got contacts I had the absolute worst self esteem. I can admit that even today, at 29, I still have the same problems. Just goes to show that no matter how old we get there are always going to be skeletons that we just can't bury.
Skeletons: My first topic to write about.
Now before I even begin to start this topic I just wanna express something. Most women who have been through traumatic experiences take them one or two ways... either they let it control them & it winds up permanently scarring them for the rest of their lives or they can never trust a person, they are mentally, emotionally, & physically scarred; never the same again. OR they take what happened to them grow, learn, & progress. They transform their selves to a strong ass human being that overcame something horrible that happened to them. Then there are two different ways they project their stories. They either only share their story for sympathy or attention. Then there are those like myself. Wanting to share their hardships, trauma's, & tragedies to only show that they are no longer a victim. That they are now a SURVIVOR. That nothing & no one can bring them down as long as they continue to push forward from what they have experienced. Now no matter what there is always a piece of them that will be affected, but it's what they do that matters most. I am still affected in certain ways, there are a couple of things that put flashbacks into my head immediately. So that I don't have to re-live those moments, I make sure to avoid those particular things when they happen to appear in a situation.
In each post I will reveal a different skeleton of my own. I am NOT trying to get attention. My main purpose & goal is to finally share my story out loud. By doing so, I hope to possibly help those who have been through similar situations be able to maybe share their own story, let them know that they are not alone, & I want people to know to never judge a person because you never know what they have went through in life or what they may be currently going through. Two old sayings pop in my head when I read my last sentence, "Don't judge a book by its cover." & "Treat others how you want to be treated." LOL Thanks Mom! :)
They say that children start to remember at the age of 4. I may not remember a lot but I remember some, If I'm right, I even remember a little from the age of 3 as well. I wanna say that I was either 4 or 5 years old when this particular memory took place. Growing up my parents enjoyed going to Bingo together. So that meant that I got a babysitter for the night. Just like most kids, this was the highlight of my days, who doesn't love to have a babysitter?! You were able to get away with things that your parents wouldn't let you do, you had someone new to play with, you got to eat more junk food than usual, & my all time favorite; you got to stay up past your bedtime! But one particular night, fun wasn't the word that I would use. At this age you know that no one is supposed to see your "Suzy" & that boys had a "Birdie" that you aren't allowed to see either. My parents left for Bingo & my sitter {who was a male} and I were playing like we normally did any other night. This night the game was different; hide the marker. It seemed like fun, the purpose was to hide the marker & let the other person find it, so it was hide & seek but with something instead of a person, easy right? So we sat on my living room floor as I went first. I think to start I hid it under the couch. I don't know if any of you remember those horrible brown/tan couches with the floral patterns on them, but it had almost like a bed skirt on the bottom so you would have to actually lift it up to look underneath it.
My sitter closed his eyes as I slid the marker underneath the couch until I told him he could open them. At first he looked around, under the couch cushions, by the T.V, etc etc. Then he began to touch my body, over my clothing, starting with my legs then moving to in between them; my forbidden area, my "Suzy." I don't remember exactly what I did or how I reacted at that point but I think that I kind of laughed & moved over & said something along the lines of, "It's not on me silly!" But that's how it started, with touching. I knew it was wrong but what do you do at the age when you're alone with someone who is older & stronger than you? When it then became to be his turn he winded up hiding the marker in his lap, trying to get me to touch his "Birdie." I honestly don't remember how it happened but I remember him taking it out of his pants, out from his boxers, & telling me to just touch it. Again, you know it's wrong but who doesn't listen to an adult at 4 or 5 without the fear of being in trouble? Again, I only remember bits & pieces of memories so I don't know what happened after that if i protested or not but the next memory I have from that night was of him telling me, "It's okay, just lick it, go up and down." I do then remember, after doing what I was told, saying, "I don't want to." His response, "Just do it 3 more times then you can be done." I remember I did what I was told and had my head pushed down in the process. After that, I don't remember the rest of the night or if it had happened again or not. A couple of months later I remember my Mom was in her room alone so I went to talk to her. I told her what had happened & I remember feeling as if she didn't believe me. She reprimanded the person who did it but in my eyes, it wasn't enough. I felt like more should have been done. I remember feeling (as do most children who go through these things) as if it had been my fault that it had even happened to begin with. She genuinely seemed concerned & upset but I didn't get the reaction I thought I would, I still to this day don't know if my father was ever told about it. I don't think he was though. The type of person he is, he probably would have killed him.
Then when I was either 15 or 16 history repeated itself again. I was supposed to stay the night at a friend's house but something happened & I left. It was past my curfew so I knew that I couldn't go home because then I'd be in trouble. After I left I happened to run into one of my homeboy's & he said I could crash at his house for the night. We met up with one of our friend's, went to a hotel party, then went back to his house. We laid down to watch a movie & I fell asleep. Next thing I know, I woke up to his hand down my pants & the harder I pulled the further he went, the more I begged for him to stop & let go, the more he didn't stop. Somehow I winded up getting free before anything worse could happen, I just remember getting my shoes & running. I didn't stop running until I got back to my friend's house who I was originally supposed to stay with. It was 5 a.m, I was crying my eyes out while beating on the door, I was let in with open arms, empathy & sympathy. The look in her eyes is something I'll never forget, I never want to be looked at like that again, the victim look. It'll burn a hole into your soul. Never again, I am NOT a victim anymore & refuse to ever be again, fuck that!
So there is my first skeleton. Not many people know these details, & those who do know, only know that I was molested & forced to give head when I was younger. Very few people even know who this person was. Even though I am finally sharing my story with everyone, I cannot bring myself to admit who the perpetrator was. There are just some things that one cannot admit to just anyone no matter how much time has gone by. I will say that it was someone who I was close with. But I really wanted to share this to show people {& I say people because it happens to males too} that have been through similar situations that they are not the only ones. They aren't alone, that we are no longer victims now. I look at myself as a survivor. I have survived & moved forward from this, but I am still affected when it comes to certain things. When I am with a guy I cannot just simply suck his dick like most "normal" females. Because of what happened to me during my childhood, I really have to not only love them but I have to trust them completely. When I do finally give them head I also have rules. You're probably thinking I'm petty, petty or not I have to or it affects me & I can't do it at all.
Rule #1- DON'T LOOK AT ME
Rule #2- DO NOT PUSH MY HEAD DOWN
Rule #3- DON'T COME IN MY MOUTH
Most of who I have done that for understand completely & there haven't been any problems. But I have been broken up with before because I wouldn't give head, some guys are just ignorant mother fuckers! Thank god I don't have to worry about that anymore! LOL I've been with my boyfriend, the father of my second son for 6 years now. He was 100% understanding about everything & continues to be. As time goes by & I get more & more comfortable with someone rules number 1 & 3 eventually go away, like with my now boyfriend. It really depends on who & how long we have been together & the comfort level that I do have with them.
To everyone reading this, if you have been through any of this I am sorry. But always remember to not let it drag you down, keep moving, keep pushing, keep SURVIVING!
XOXOXO
xTiNa
