Child Abuse Story From Lauren M

by Lauren M
(Kansas, USA)

Age 2: 
I wish I could tell the story. My mother was young and divorced. 1962: She met the brother of a friend's boyfriend. He was a bit older and handsome. Just out of the Air Force. My mother wanted a knight in shining armor. He was fun, nice and was nice to me. (?) Loved kids. Funny, always the lenient easygoing guy. Sexual abuse began right away, I believe. An instance of mysterious trauma occurred. I cried and was bleeding from my "nancy". "Daddy hurt me" They weren't married yet. He tried to tell her that I must mean the next door neighbor, a man with 8 kids. Police come, he decides to take off. Meanwhile, the man is arrested. His wife is pissed. She has 9 kids, and knows this is a huge mistake. Later, my mother follows HIM to New Hampshire.

How could she not know? She doesn't want to.

Two-year-olds, they let you know when something is wrong. Their verbal skills may not be the best way to tell. So they become hard to deal with. Crying fits, nightmares, temper tantrums. But the man that Mommy loves, the man that is so nice and also doesn't want you to tell, how would you expect him to act? He has a secret. The baby can't tell. This isn't a story, it is my lost life. My mother, me, my brother too. And him. I loved him, then. What else did I know? It's a story that wasn't told. Until I was 41 years old. It has affected every aspect of my life, but in a domino sense. I am so shocked now, to realize this at age 49, the abuse continues from sexual, but hidden to a cold and distant verbally abusive, alcoholic mother that blames me because my behavior, she thinks is due to trying to being "spoiled" and so on.

The signs and symptoms were buried day by day. My self, or sense of self, has only been freed little by little when my mother and I are apart. But because I am keeping a secret, and don't really know that I am, I have spent all my life being mad, angry, and distant. It has been a journey.

I finally got help, and spoke to her (my mother) regarding this. She believed me. She said, "Why didn't you tell someone back then?"

"I thought you loved him more than you loved me." I didn't know that's what I was going to say to her. It just came out. When I said it, I realized that it was true. Two-year-olds, what do they feel? I wish I could have known better and told her. But I do believe that I was trying to tell her, by my behavior. It troubles me to realize that I am not alone.

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