Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of sexual content.
There were times during those years I was harsh with my oldest child. Very rare and mild in comparison to what I was subjected to. No excuse-ever. This is my main shame and I can't even tell it.
My daughter, it seems the oldest most often takes the brunt, I learned years later, she, thought it was her fault we had to marry young. I have tried to let her know, she was no accident. I'm not sure she believes me. There is never an excuse for cruelty. A reason maybe, but never an excuse.
I can no longer put all blame of her developmental characteristics (personality/character) on my actions. She unfortunately took on many of her father's traits. She also refuses to look within. It is easier to stay a victim and blame others. Common for some people. It takes guts to look at self.
Maybe it is my shame that let me look inside. One thing I am proud of, I have always searched for truth. Inside also, no matter how hard.
We had planned for the pregnancy. We were both young, lonely and stupid. I mistakenly thought he wanted a family as much as I did. That is what he convinced me of. Children, yes. But it turned out, It was mainly to have a captive victim.
After I was ejected from the house, I met a man. I stopped for gas and the man filling my tank asked me for a date. He seemed so nice, I agreed. I needed help from the state to keep a home for my children. I didn't make enough as a waitress and their father didn't contribute financially. It wasn't very long before he moved in with us. He was good with the children, but firm. My conscience nagged at me. I couldn't stand having him there and accepting welfare too, Even just food stamps.
He moved in with a friend. We continued dating. Once my husband came over and wanted to have sex. I refused. I told him he didn't want me when he had me, and he couldn't have me now. My Boyfriend and I met him at a restaurant. My friend turned his back to him as we exited. That would have been the time my husband would have attacked; He wasn't as stupid as I gave him credit for. He didn't bother us again, until I baby sat his stepchild while he eloped to Vegas.
Eventually my BF proposed. He said he wanted to know he could be sexually happy, We were married in Tijuana. We learned later my divorce wasn't quite final, so we married again in our living room.
I was a stay-at-home wife and mother again. Before we were married, he shared a desire to learn to fly. I advised him to do it before. He used his GI bill and became a pilot. Though it terrified me, we had some good adventures. I wanted to help him in another desire. He wanted out of being a gas jockey. He applied for and was hired at a life insurance company. He did well in his job. I tried to help financially, but failed.
By that time, I was becoming ill. Mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually. One night he took me to the emergency room. I hurt all over so badly I wanted to scream. I now realize it was fibromyalgia. It didn't even have a name yet. The doctor told me to go home-we have sick people in here. Again, I was discounted.
Sex or a lack of it seemed to rule my adult life. For some reason I became obsessed with it. After my failed attempt at working, I wanted to study real estate. My husband convinced me to go into insurance instead, so I did. I studied and aced the exam on the first try. I was good at the job and with people. I have always been empathetic. I toned it down from my youth because I made people uneasy. It is one of the gifts God gave me.
My husband's ambition sexually was to make me pass-out while having sex. We had sex a lot. Not making love, sex. Like I said, I became obsessed. This was the sixties. Free love and all in California. I wanted to have a threesome. One as a gift for him and a need to try to understand it all. It was such a mystery to me.
I brought my friends into the plans. Eventually we had some experiences. I wasn't as new age as I thought. I was surprised it hurt. I was going downhill at a rapid speed. I now believe he had formed feelings for my beautiful youngest daughter. He wasn't taking my health problems well at all. One day as he came downstairs, he looked at me and said he didn't feel the same towards me and wanted a divorce. I was in my middle thirties and had two children left at home.
Continued-. .
Author Notes
Thank you, Raoul D'Harmental for your art.
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