(*Note* If you’ve read the “Digging Up the Past” series, this will explain why my “stepdad” is referred to as stepdouche.)
Blogtember: Day 6- When life moves two inches to the left
Life is full of defining moments. Little obstacles and challenges await each one of us, some of us will jump the hurdles like kangaroos in heat. Some of us will fall flat on our faces, from time to time. You never really know what’s going to make or break you. Sometimes these moments go unnoticed, they shape us into who we are and we don’t even realize it.
Personally, I imagine that must be the case for those who have everything handed to them and live in a “bubble”. They have no reason to think into what defines them, or what moments changed their lives, for better or worse.
If we did a study to see how many people could give us a life changing moment, I believe it’d be 50/50…at best. That’s being generous; after all, life changing moments don’t happen for everyone. For me, I’d have to say I’ve had a few but then again, they could all just link together.
Though there has been a lot that has formed who I am, I believe the biggest life changing moment I’ve had is when I was 17. Not long before my 18th birthday I was spending the day hanging out with my step-dad (blah, just threw up a little.) We had basically been running around town all day, him waiting for my mom to get off work and me waiting for my boyfriend (now hubby) to get off.
Upon waiting to pick my mother up, he decided to start questioning me about things of a sexual nature. Okay, uncomfortable but not so unusual for my perverted family. The questions seemed simple enough, nothing damaging I suppose. That is until he starts to tell me how my mom isn’t giving him enough “bow chicka wow wow” and asks if I would be willing to fill in. (Say what? yeah sorry you’re not reading it wrong, that’s what I said.).
Of course, that’s not bad enough. No, even the bad things can’t be left to tiny bad things; they have to blow up into gorilla sized problems. Well….what does one say? If your screaming hell NO at the computer then you’re on track. This is not creepy porn, where moms’ slutty daughter nails stepdad (vomit) in the back room.
Like all men, no is never the right answer or enough. They must push further, and so he did. This is when things became even clearer. He begins with telling me how he’s never seen me as his kid, even though he’d been raising me since I was two. Once again, it only gets worse as he admits that he’s been thinking about it for a long time. That he had planned to drug me or get me drunk. That he was basically warning me he had the intentions to rape me. He had thought all of this through and I was giving me a chance to just take one for the “team”. You know the “We can do this the hard way or the easy way.” kind of situation.
Thank Bob because my mother was out shortly after he laid it all out for me. I wanted so badly to scream it out at my mom, yet…part of me felt it was my fault. Part of me felt like my mother would hate me and part of me was wondering if I had forgotten about taking Acid earlier and was having a bad trip. Sadly, it wasn’t a bad trip…it was for real and it would make huge changes in my life.
My family, some of his family, all believed me. My mother was a different story, she pretended to believe me. I told her on my 18th birthday because I couldn’t live with it anymore. Trying to act normal around him and not just cover the room in vomit was harder then I imagine stopping heroin to be. I wait, thinking I did the right thing, thinking my mother will do as a mother should.
Only more and more time passes and nothings is even mentioned of it. Not long after, I married my husband and we moved into our own place again. Sadly, he was laid off and then we found out we were pregnant. There was no choice but to go back home to the psychos. From there, I ended up having my daughter, and I tried to take my mother’s right to see her, away. But not being able to explain why and begin the caring person I am, I couldn’t do it to her. She’s my mom and I owe her right?
So this went on about a year, then my father suddenly passed away and I snapped. Something in me refused to take it anymore, I had waited 21 years for my father’s abuse to stop and that took him dying. I wasn’t going to wait around anymore and let my mother’s husband further ruin me.
I did all I had the strength to do and told my mother that my daughter wasn’t allowed over anymore. I couldn’t explain and so I just excused it. Then my mother came to my home, she stood in my driveway and told me how disappointed she was in me, basically calling me a bad mom. That’s when the last little piece broke and I fell apart in anger, and hurt.
I’m a bad mom? I’m a bad mom? She takes my child to a home where in my eyes, a predator lives. If I’m not his kid, then that’s not his gran-kid and that makes her just as “fair game” as me. I’m a bad mom? I’m hurting my daughter by protecting her from the crap I went through? No, I know I’m not. I couldn’t live with myself, sending my daughter into what felt like was a ticking time bomb. I was a bad mom because I let her go, because I let her be around him that first year or so, but I wasn’t anymore. I knew I was doing right, what a mother should.
As for my mom, she should have left the first time I told her but as usual I wasn’t important enough. Now she could decide to believe me and confront it, or lose us from her life. My mom believed me, she confronted him and he admitted to it all. With no more excuse then he wanted to and he could.
So they split up and my mother’s been able to see my daughter. Now, I thought my mom did the right thing. I know my daughter doesn’t see him because she’d tell me and she has when they’ve bumped into him in a store before. However, I believe my mother must think I’m the stupidest person alive because the family has let me know they are together behind my back. I’ve had multiple “butt dials” from my mother where I can hear the two of them talking in the background.
These are the things that made my life take a real hard turn. I never really had a family, I don’t and I won’t ever have that best-friend, mother-daughter relationship I wanted and that all sucks. However, all of it has made me a better mother, as well as person and a whole lot stronger. It’s helped me to realize that family isn’t always about blood, sometimes you just have to make your own. Now I leave the sickening feelings behind, I don’t worry about what my mother thinks and I have a wonderful little family.