Untitled Drama From my Life

At the age of 30 I finally feel like its ok for me to be mad at the people who caused me pain. A friend of mines expressed to me that he use to hold on to a lot of anger because of my story. He questioned how anyone could intentionally hurt me. Now that I know someone else held strong emotions about my past I no longer feel like I was wrong to be angry. I have put a lot of effort into acting like everything is ok. I just went through something that was very emotional for me. I went way back to the city that I remember abuse starting. I was a part of a project targeted towards telling the story of HIV and intimate partner violence (IPV). I had to mentally go into my past and speak about the stuff I don’t tell people. The sexual abuse, the memory of my father beating my mother, the past and current abusive relationships. I now know that my coping method is not working. I can’t just pretend that everything is ok. That is what I’ve done my entire life. People have said awful things about me but I’ve always smiled and said silently to myself, ” they talked bad about Jesus so it’s ok.” I’ve never admitted my true feelings because I never gave myself the permission to be angry but yes I’m angry.
My childhood was drenched in abuse and death. That abuse has followed me into the present day. I have tried several times to “fix it” but I don’t think I know how. The earliest memories I have took place in New York. My abusive father convinced my mother to pack up and move 3,000 miles away from everything she knew. It was there that my mother decided to leave him. I remember her making me and my three siblings go out the window and up the fire escape to the neighbors apartment when her and my dad would fight. Arlene would just open her window and let us in. She would turn on loud music so that we couldn’t hear our parents arguing down stairs. I would always want to know why my dad always made my mom cry but I never asked. My mom left him and started to date a guy who would have been the father of her 5th child. During that pregnancy she tested positive for HIV. The baby was born during her second trimester in the 5th month of pregnancy. He survived five months before dying at home. The cause of death was listed as SIDS. Shortly after Raymond died my mom somehow found out that I was being sexually molested by her boyfriend. Her reaction was not expected. She blamed me and she took out her anger on me. Still to this day I make excuses for her. My grandma was abusive to her as a child so she only reacted the way she knew how. I would love to hear her say she was wrong and she’s sorry for the way she acted but I know for a fact that I learned how to forget from my mother. She blocks any negative situations from her mind and its like it never happened. We moved back to California but the Abuse followed me.
I’m not sure how old I was but I know I was in middle school. My mom would make me take the bus to school alone. Some days I would miss the bus so I would go into this store to get snacks and kill time between buses. One day the man who owned the store closed and locked the door behind me. He asked me to follow him behind the counter he pulled down his pants and sat down on a stool he told me to look as he played with himself. I just stood there. He touched me and kissed me then he ejaculated. He gave me $40 as he let me out the back door of the store. He told me to come back and see him and I did. I use to earn money doing stuff around the house for my mom but no one ever gave me so much money to do nothing. It got to a point where he wanted more. I was conditioned not to disagree with adults so I didn’t, I let him do what he wanted to me and he would give me money. I changed schools and no longer took the bus near his store so that ended that.
I have had a total of 6 relationships in my 30 years of life. All except 1 of them were very unhealthy for me. My self-esteem has always been on the low side and I never made decisions for myself. My Lack of self confidence had me fall in love with anyone who expressed the slightest interest in me. The longest relationship I’ve had was with a guy I met on the party line at the age of 19. We ended up in an on and off relationship for over 10 years. This guy was very toxic in my life. I tried so hard to please him but I was never good enough. He would physically, verbally, and emotionally abuse me. He isolated me from my friends and family, took control of my money, told me what I could and could not wear and how to style my hair. I was so dependent on him I would follow him everywhere like a sick puppy. I would sit in his car while he was at work or in class. During one of the off times I was in a relationship with someone who was exactly like him. Very militant, his way or the highway. This relationship ended with me being homeless and with only my purse and my laptop computer. I ran back to the party line guy because I knew what to expect and deep down I knew he was dangerous but I felt safer with him then I did on the streets. I felt I needed him but he rejected me. He still called whenever he wanted sex but I was not good enough to be more than an object to him. I began to date a woman thinking I would be better off with a female since my luck with men was not great at all. This relationship was destine to crash because I didn’t love her. I felt sorry for her I stepped right in to her pity party and allowed my misery to be pushed aside by hers. . .
I could go on and on forever describing the failed love stories that make up my life but the common denominator in each situation is me. I need to do some serious soul searching and learn how to love myself. That is not something that I have ever seen demonstrated to me. I have no idea what it looks like, feels like, or sounds like. I can imagine it’s a beautiful thing but how would I know? I can only say this for sure. I’M WORKING ON IT!!!! When I get there I will blog about it but until then I’m open to suggestions and encouraging kind words.

I look like the strength I wish I had

I look like the strength I wish I had

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