I only have a few memories under the age of 10.  Not all of them are bad; but why is it that the bad memories and dreams tend to be the ones that stick with you the most?
 
My mother and father loved each other very much.  But it wasn't enough.  I'm not sure what my mom was looking for, but she left my dad for someone else when I was five.  And when I was 9 she married that very guy.
 
It was a lot to watch my dad cry and hurt the way he did, in a way that I could not help.  Luckily he happily remarried.  The guy my mom was with ended up hurting me as well.  She would get so caught up with him that she would completely forget about me sometimes.  I thought he was a nice guy, until one weekend when we were watching someone's house while they were out of town.  Me, my mom, one of my friends, and my step dad, got into their hot tub.  A few minuets later I felt something under the water.  I was twelve, and I knew it was wrong, but above the water no one could see it.  It almost felt like a bad dream, like I was only imagining it.  He made two attempts and when I turned away and crossed my legs, luckily he stopped what he was doing.  I was scared and I had a hard time at that age comprehending what had just happened, so I blocked it away and never told anyone. 
 
When I was 9 (the same year that he became my step dad) he was put in jail for two days for molesting a little girl.   For fear of causing more damage to their child, the parents of the little girl that he was accused of molesting ultimately dropped the charges, which is often the case. But they and I had no doubt that he was guilty of hurting their daughter.   After finding out about this, my dad confronted my mom and my step-father, and made it clear that he knew what was going on and would do whatever necessary to protect me. Although he and my step-mother, who has been really good to me, had already obtained a restraining order, I had no doubt my dad was serious when he said he would do whatever necessary.  My step-father and my mom were mad at my father for that  - like what had happened was somehow my dad's  fault.  Any good father would have done the same.  After that I had some friends who's parents would no longer allow me to play with because they had read what happened in the newspaper, and based on my step-father's inappropriate advances toward my friend's mom and some other women.  

I had forgotten about a lot of this until one day when I was 15, I went to take a nap.  While I was sleeping I had three seizures and a terrible nightmare where I was standing in a room watching myself as a little girl with my step dad.   I woke up terrified and began going to counseling (once again).  The nap brought back a lot of memories that I had blocked out.  For the first time, I began to tell people what had happened.  One of my step sisters ended up telling my mom that I suspected my step dad of doing something to me when I was younger.  My mom approached me one night, telling me that I was mistaken, that he loves me and she would never be with anyone who would hurt me.  She caught me off guard.  How is it that she could be so naive, how could she not see the signs?  Not only had he been accused of this before, but for years he would rub his hands up my skirt when ever we were in a car, with her right there, and she never stopped him.  Eventually I would just sit on my legs so that he couldn't get to them.  She never asked me what I "thought" he may have done.
 
I know that my mom has always loved me VERY MUCH.  But how can she be so blind?  I'm 25 now and I've never told her.  I love her and I want her to be happy, even if it means being with him.  But every day I have to look at him, every day he tries to make me laugh and buy me gifts, as if to make up for it and keep me quiet, every day he's there, is another day I have to relive the hurt he caused and just put on a smile for her.  If that's not love then I don't know what love is.
 
This has effected my relationship's with people.  I have had a hard time fully trusting anyone and I'm terrified that the one's I love the most are going to leave me.  I think I'm not good enough for anyone, so in an attempt to get them to stay I do everything I can to make them happy and be perfect in their eyes.
 
Only recently have I learned that I have been living a lie.  You can not be happy with others until you are happy with yourself.  I have finally learned how to break down that wall I put up years ago, and I am more honest with myself and the ones I love, and my relationship with God has grown tremendously.  I have never been more happy with who I am as I am now.  Every day I have to continue to work at it, but I know now that I can't do it on my own.  I just recently wrote the hardest letter I have ever had to write, telling my mom what happened many years ago.  I know that she won't believe me and I know that at times she may chose to be with him instead of me.  But I have come to be OK with that.  I know now that I can never fully grow and move past this if I still see him.  I believe that my mom deserves to know the truth even if she doesn't want to hear it.  She knows that I love her.  Every day I am learning more about myself.  And I know that no matter what happens, I'll be OK.  Now it's time to grow.

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