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Dear Mom;
Fifty six years ago this Mothers day (and it was Mothers Day, that day too), you gave birth to a daughter who loved you, more than you even loved yourself. I expected love and instead you looked at me as the curse who ruined your life. God blessed me with grandparents to raise me in those first few years. Their love sheltered me from your feelings; or lack of them; about me. The time would come when I would be useful to you, as a ticket out of the house so you could cheat on your boyfriend/supposed husband, with two lesbian g/f's you had. The both of you, used me as a punching bag to work out your anger at one another. There were beatings with whiskey bottles, belt buckles and even being stripped naked and left outside for the other kids to laugh at. All that seemed minor compared to the emotional abuse. The name you had for me; satan; tore my soul apart as well as your insistence that I was the blame for all the bad things that happened to you in your life. To be fair though, you did also talk to God and blame God for the troubles in your life as well, and there is a feeling of honor to be in such great company. Still though, I did not judge you or hate you. After-all, I had an older brother you loved dearly; which you made me well aware of; and so I could only think that I had fallen short somehow and I just needed to try harder and protect you more and someday you may love me just as much. Day by day, I learned how to turn off the pain and become emotionless, around you. Grandma made plans for her and I to leave and never look back. I'll never forget the beating she took after you told my grandfather, it must have been a proud day for you. Because you could not deal with your sexuality, you did an about face and slept around with other men. Somewhere between all those times you must have sobered up now and then and how haunting that must have been for you. Meanwhile, I was being molested by a cousin and beaten regularly with your blessings, by your dear son. Abortion now seemed acceptable to you and so the result of you playing around; the baby who would have been my sister; became medical waste. In the next few years you became pregnant once again and this time, another son, which you kept. Grandma passed away; another thing that you let me know was my fault; and it became my job to raise my new brother. You finally married that boyfriend and left him only 2 years later, knowing you had a free meal ticket for your new son, at least. You looked so beautiful when you dressed up to go to the bars and I remember telling you so. Strangers began to live with us and you did not listen when I told you the things that were happening when you left me alone with them and instead called me ungrateful, often using my older brother to administer the beatings to me as you cheered him on. Your absence at my wedding, did not go unnoticed as the guests; many of who who came only after finding out you would not be there, since as you put it, you had laundry to do; as they commented at the reception how there was no one to steal my moment and no arguments as well. I know you were angry when I restricted your access to my kids when I saw you trying to do to them what I had went through, but you'll be happy to know that I never did tell them what you did to me leaving them free to cry and grieve for you and later hate me for not being there at your funeral. I could go on and on, but I think you see now, just how much you meant to me. I remember you, everyday of my life and no one understands why I do not cry because you and your oldest son have both passed away, nor do I ever miss you. I do regret that this makes others uncomfortable because I know they did not know you as I did, so I do have a heart. I do not; however; love in front of others and hate on the inside. In fact, I do not hate at all and for that I suppose I owe you thanks. May this day mean for you throughout eternity, what it means to me.
Your Daughter, Molly
Fifty six years ago this Mothers day (and it was Mothers Day, that day too), you gave birth to a daughter who loved you, more than you even loved yourself. I expected love and instead you looked at me as the curse who ruined your life. God blessed me with grandparents to raise me in those first few years. Their love sheltered me from your feelings; or lack of them; about me. The time would come when I would be useful to you, as a ticket out of the house so you could cheat on your boyfriend/supposed husband, with two lesbian g/f's you had. The both of you, used me as a punching bag to work out your anger at one another. There were beatings with whiskey bottles, belt buckles and even being stripped naked and left outside for the other kids to laugh at. All that seemed minor compared to the emotional abuse. The name you had for me; satan; tore my soul apart as well as your insistence that I was the blame for all the bad things that happened to you in your life. To be fair though, you did also talk to God and blame God for the troubles in your life as well, and there is a feeling of honor to be in such great company. Still though, I did not judge you or hate you. After-all, I had an older brother you loved dearly; which you made me well aware of; and so I could only think that I had fallen short somehow and I just needed to try harder and protect you more and someday you may love me just as much. Day by day, I learned how to turn off the pain and become emotionless, around you. Grandma made plans for her and I to leave and never look back. I'll never forget the beating she took after you told my grandfather, it must have been a proud day for you. Because you could not deal with your sexuality, you did an about face and slept around with other men. Somewhere between all those times you must have sobered up now and then and how haunting that must have been for you. Meanwhile, I was being molested by a cousin and beaten regularly with your blessings, by your dear son. Abortion now seemed acceptable to you and so the result of you playing around; the baby who would have been my sister; became medical waste. In the next few years you became pregnant once again and this time, another son, which you kept. Grandma passed away; another thing that you let me know was my fault; and it became my job to raise my new brother. You finally married that boyfriend and left him only 2 years later, knowing you had a free meal ticket for your new son, at least. You looked so beautiful when you dressed up to go to the bars and I remember telling you so. Strangers began to live with us and you did not listen when I told you the things that were happening when you left me alone with them and instead called me ungrateful, often using my older brother to administer the beatings to me as you cheered him on. Your absence at my wedding, did not go unnoticed as the guests; many of who who came only after finding out you would not be there, since as you put it, you had laundry to do; as they commented at the reception how there was no one to steal my moment and no arguments as well. I know you were angry when I restricted your access to my kids when I saw you trying to do to them what I had went through, but you'll be happy to know that I never did tell them what you did to me leaving them free to cry and grieve for you and later hate me for not being there at your funeral. I could go on and on, but I think you see now, just how much you meant to me. I remember you, everyday of my life and no one understands why I do not cry because you and your oldest son have both passed away, nor do I ever miss you. I do regret that this makes others uncomfortable because I know they did not know you as I did, so I do have a heart. I do not; however; love in front of others and hate on the inside. In fact, I do not hate at all and for that I suppose I owe you thanks. May this day mean for you throughout eternity, what it means to me.
Your Daughter, Molly
We don't engage in behaviour if we are punished for it or don't get some kind of payoff. Obviously, IClaimThe's mother was not punished for behaviour, and she got some kind of payoff for it.
There are lots of people in the world who get some kind of internal reward from victimizing others, and they have no one to blame but themselves.
If these people never suffer consequences for their behaviour, they learn there are no consequences for bad behaviour.
I betcha if IClaimThe's mother had someone slap the shit out of her for mistreating her daughter, that would have been exactly what she needed. She obviously was not afraid to mistreat her daughter.
By the time the abuse got to that level against IClaimThe, her mother needed something drastic to force her to knock it off, but no one stepped up to the plate.
I absolutely hate people who abuse children, animals, the elderly and the disabled. We can lock 'em up, but it doesn't seem to do a lot to change them. Their only regrets are that someone was wrong to report them so that they get caught.
If you don't want to do the time, don't do the crime.
Why are you giving excuses for abusers?
When my son was young, I realized that if I didn't enjoy every bit of his existance, I was the one who was going to lose.
I have to pity your mom. She didn't know she had a source of joy, and that was you.
Thank you everyone for your points of view and encouragement. I hope the one conclusion we all draw, is that excuses; no matter how well meaning; are enablers......especially when there is no remourse on the part of the abuser. Tomorrow, I'm sure I will read of another case of abuse in a newspaper and although it may not be a huge consolation, I'll cry my tears knowing my silence was not a contributing factor.
Now my son wont' talk to me. I think my son had the best mom on the face of the earth, but look at how he repays me.
You and I both came out on the short end of the stick. You had a bad mother when you needed one. That is far worse than what I have. Kids are so vulnerable.
I don't know you, but I have good radar. You seem like a really great person who deserved a great mother and a terrific childhood.
I used to work with kids when I was a teenager. I never met a kid who did not deserve the best.
@ Virlaceygo........ I'm here; in these posts and through e-mail any time you need to talk. For some reason, I cannot get Meebo to work on my page even after going through all the helps and fix's I could find relating to it. Let me know if you have a "yahoo messenger" or "Facebook" address, since those IM's work fine.
...........Once again, Thank you all............ Molly
I too, was a little offended at the idea that "slapping" your mother would have cured anything. Like Oskar, I think this is an ugly and violent sentiment. I don't feel the need to invalidate someone because their history of abuse (or lack of it) has not been put out for the world to assess. The truth can be appreciated for what it is. Out of the mouth of this young man emerged several valid and reasonable points. Violence in interpersonal relationships is wrong. Period. A mother's violence towards her children is most likely the result of abuse upon herself and that we must look a little more deeply than to sit in judgment and express hatred (I mean this statement generally, and not as a criticism directed at anyone in particular). To treat all people, even those who have hurt us, with compassion. These are noble sentiments and whilst some here find it impossible to embrace these ideals, it would be great if you could acknowledge that many people feel this way, and many more strive to live this way.
Virlaceygo, I have found your comments upsetting at times. I have not appreciated your insistance about what can, and can't be talked about in the forum. I think you need to be reminded this is not a competition, or an argument you can win, and in doing so, silence others. Please refrain from these visible attempts at ostracizing a young man from this community. People should be left to make up their own minds. He is free to express his opinion and said nothing to warrant reporting. Let he, or she who is without sin cast the first stone, dear.
All this having being said, I want to express my sympathy for the unresolved and very painful memories that you expressed, IClaim...The impact of abuse is seen clearly rippling throughout your life and through relationships with others. I appreciate the devastating impact and complexity of this only to well. I wish you all the best.
1. My Father----- Engaged 4 male friends (police) of her's to beat him senseless and threaten him with prison.
2. My Uncle M.... ---Engaged those same friends to beat him up as well and later supplied an attorney with my Uncle's Trucking business "rights" to force him out of business.
3. My Aunt P....----- She confronted Aunt P... with a hair pulling fistfight.
4. My 4th grade teacher---- Fistfight
5. My Stepfather---- Aside from taking advantage of his unwillingness to hit her or fight back which left him scratched heavily and bruised, she spread false rumours that he was gay at his work, to all their friends.
By now I think the picture is getting clear that she was no less than a terrorist. Perhaps we should write O'Bama and suggest that if any future Osama Bin Laden's come to power, we organize a task force to Hug him and suggest therapy.