Little Girl Crushed

In the telling of my story I promised myself that I would be totally honest, which in the past has gotten me into immense trouble, yet, I continue to be very open and honest about my life. Many people like to hide their past, pretend it didn't happen, or live in the past, as if they are reliving each hurt done to them on a never ending merry go round for pain and disappointment. I think that maybe I decided I would not live on the merry go round because that is where my Mom chose to live out her life. She remembered in vivid detail everything that anyone had done to her that caused her to suffer, and she would relive those moments over and over again. Sadly Mom never learned the freedom that comes with forgiveness.One of her famous sayings was, "I can forgive, but I will never forget." Because the memories brought her such anguish, she lived her life out being angry and bitter at those who wronged her.

So I continue my story as a young girl adopted into this dysfunctional situation. I learned at a very early age that I was adopted. Although my Dad's family totally accepted me as 'family', Mother's side was divided on whether I was truly family or not. There were cousins who told me at every family reunion until I was grown, that really I was not part of the family because blood was true family. There were cousins and Aunts and Uncles who never treated me with anything but acceptance and love, and whenever family reunion time came around I would try to stay beside them. Our reunions were always at Zilker Park, in Austin. Us kids would ride the train, and swim in the pool. I don't think I have ever swam in water as cold as in that pool. It was created from natural springs and it was freezing!

I keep faltering here with the right words to explain the darkness which crept into my little girl world. The darkness which stole my innocence from me when I was in the care of my mother's sister. I long to focus on the joys I find in those early years, and yet to be complete in my story I must tell what happened. I have written in depth the truth of those years in a story entitled "The Cavern". It is very explicit in describing the sexual abuse I experienced and was the tool I used to bring about much healing to little 'Charlotte Jean'. So, I have no desire to repeat here the happenings of those hot, humid Texas nights. I will just say that for months, if not years, I endured being molested by one of my female cousins. To this day, if I close my eyes, and picture the curtains blowing gently in the heated breeze, I can smell the interior of the room and feel the rabid fear begin to take hold. From those nights I grew into a adult terrified of the night. It has only been since Marty and I have been together that the night fears have faded and I am at peace with being alone.

I never told my Mom what was taking place because this was, after all, her family. Plus I loved my cousin. I admired her. She was older than I was and I remember watching her put on her makeup to go to school, or out on a date, and she would put lipstick on me. I loved to play cheerleader with her pompoms and she would teach me the cheers and we would laugh until our stomachs hurt. I felt loved. To say that seems like such a contradiction, but I was so hungry for someone to love me, that I mistook her affections for me as real love.

Many years later I was able to talk with my Mom about the abuse. She responded very casually by telling me that her older sister's daughter had been molested by the same cousin, and Mom had known about that before she allowed me to be babysat by this Aunt and my cousin. I asked her why she let me go, and she said she thought that my cousin had outgrown her tendencies to molest. I was stunned to say the least, that Mom was 1) so naive; 2) so nonchalant about the whole thing. It was then that she shared her own experience of childhood molestation and told me that she just didn't think about it. That was how she had tried to cope for about 65 years. It was after this talk with her that it became so apparent to me that my mother's side of the family was filled with incest and sexual abuse. Thank goodness that by the time I had this talk with Mom, I had worked through all the anger and hurt, and had come to a place of not blaming. All I felt was this tremendous sadness for my Mom's stolen innocence, and for the brokenness of so many of her family. It gave me understanding of so many of Mom's behaviors over the years, and I saw her as a frail little girl, just like me, who had been abused.

There was so much pain that lived in her family members. One cousin married a pedophile, he was caught taking photos of her own younger sister. Another cousin committed suicide. One cousin was an alcoholic/drug abuser for many years. One cousin beat his sons with a razor strap..which I witnessed on numerous occasions. And the list could go on and on. I look at each one of them NOW, and I hear the deepest, darkest painful cries of their own wounded spirits, and it just crushes me. I pray that as the years have grown on, that each soul has found healing and forgiveness to bring wholeness and peace to their lives.

It is my hope and prayer that each one of us who experienced the loss of our innocence be totally healed in body, mind and spirit.

I hold the deepest love and gratitude to each person who helped me through, to my angels, to my spirit guides, and also to myself. I would not have made it through to this place of peace if it were not for you.

Namaste'