The Greatest Love of All

back with my eyes closed tightly, so I could escape my thoughts to a fantasy place. I used to do this when I was younger. I pretend to be somewhere over the rainbow. The faster and higher I would be the farther I was away from anyone taking advantage or hurting me. Since I was five years old I have been told my heads not screwed on right. I am dumb because I could not grasp my ABC and was held back for my second year of kindergarten. When I was told I was dumb it was hard for me not to believe it. I mean, who retakes kindergarten for the second time? For the first time in my life I think it was my first experience with what I know now is depression. I was embarrassed and always tried to avoid anyone who was in my first kindergarten class. Shortly after starting my second year of kindergarten, I notice I was always in trouble for something and was punished. To this day I can never understand why I was always in trouble. I was a good girl! I did what I was told. I would stand in attention and address my dad "yes sir!"
I ate all my food on my plate because I knew if I did not eat everything I would have to sleep at the table and after that, assume the position and undress from the waist down just to be spanked. I didn't realize then what I do now, about the signs that were there calling out for help .My mom likes to tell a story to everyone on how funny it was to watch me get spanked over my dads knee with everyone to see me with my pants down and hear me scream out loud "do it again Daddy!” If only she was aware of the signs of child abuse back then. My mom had a chance to save my life at that point from destruction. Some how it never made a connection with her on how abnormal it was for her five year old to state such disturbing words “ Do it again daddy!” to my own father. Now being a single mother of six. I now see just how disturbing it is to hear me state such words to my own father. Where would a five year old pick up that line and coincidentally use it in a suggestive manner? I would go out of my way to make sure my room was ready for the white glove inspection. I shared the room with my two sisters but of course I was the one that would miss school days because the room wasn't cleaned well enough. On one of my days of staying home to clean the room, my dad came into inspect the room with his white glove. I dusted and oiled our bedroom furniture. I Windex the windows and even made the beds with creases just like my dad liked. All our clothes were neatly folded in our drawers and not one thing was left out of place and yet my dad still found something I did wrong. From that day, my beatings and my dad using my head as a basketball to bang against the wall took a turn for the worst. My dad began back hand me all over my body and yelling in my ear that I will never amount to anything because I am dumb and I can’t even complete a simple task of cleaning my room. My dad left the room and returned quickly with his military belt. My dad was a drill instructor he looked evil even when he was happy. So when my dad instructed me to take my clothes off I did and quickly. I wanted to avoid any more punishment. It was false hope instead. My dad duck taped my mouth shut and tied up my legs and hands to the bed post I being almost 6 years old just thought that this was normal because I was bad. I don't remember everything because I was in so much pain that I must of past out. I woke up in a pool of blood. My dad untied me and yanked me by my hair dragging my weak body to the floor telling me to go shower and then to take the sheet and soak it in water. I was told if anyone asked I had a bloody nose and if I ever told anyone he would kill me. At this moment I am reliving the sharp knife pain and my emotions so out of control that I could not stop my tears from flowing down my face. I see my dad’s mouth move but seem to not hear him anymore. I held my stomach and got myself slowly up off the floor to attend to my shower. I'm feeling so confused and dirty as I walk away from my dad’s evil eye. I couldn't figure out what it was that I did to deserve what he did to me. After the shower I laid in a hot bath. So hot that I started to get blisters. I did not care though. I felt that I would never be clean enough. I told myself I would have everything from there on out, done over and beyond from perfect. When I failed at something or I was feeling like I could not comprehend or do something right. I felt like if I do something wrong or I could not understand then I must deserve any punishment given to me. I told myself "It’s my entire fault that I am dumb and I can’t comprehend how to do anything right." My dad walks into the bathroom fully dressed in his cami’s and now in a warm and touching voice say's" you were bad scooter, you know daddy loves you but when your bad you have to accept the punishment" he kisses me on the forehead and walks out. My mom just getting home passes my dad through the hallway and I can hear my dad tell my mom that the sheet in the sink, were from a bloody nose I had. My dad’s abuse went on till I was about 15 years old. I had gotten pregnant with my oldest son and to protect him, I gathered all that I could and ran away while my parents were at work. I had enough! I wasn't about to let my dad hurt me anymore. I was going to be a mother and I wanted to protect my child. I thought after I left home that my life of being abused was over. I was wrong! Every relationship thereafter I allowed some type of abuse in my life. My dad was the gate way for all the other sick men, who all par take in robbing me of my child hood innocence. The child predators / abusers consist of people you would least expect to abuse a child. Looks can be so deceiving. They were a childhood best friend’s dads, my own cousins, friend's brothers and most common the strays of random people my mom allowed around us. Being severely abused as a child, I did not realize my destructive actions and over the years I had developed an abusive personality towards others through manipulation. Manipulation came natural to me, much like smiling or crying. Of course it did! I lived it since I was five years old and had no clue of my deceitful actions towards others who were not trying to hurt me. I played victim, when really I was considered to be the abuser and in complete denial of my actions. At such a young age of being sexually abused by my own family, I soon began feeling lost and alone to where all my concoction, of lies were established. I constantly was fabricating so much of my life that I would start to believe my own lies. I day dreamed on a daily basis of fantasy- land where to me was a safe place, so no one could hurt me. I was so absorbed with my own lie’s, I lived my child hood into my late twenties destroying what was left of the positive attributes I once possessed. Being sexually abused played a huge role to why I was allowing abusive men to be apart of my life. I know what everyone is thinking, “Why would someone stay in a relationship with someone who abused him or her? ” With me, I kept allowing my abuse to continue because it was all I knew. I wanted to believe that whoever was the abuser, that they really didn’t mean to hurt me and made a mistake. I would tell myself that it was my fault because I did something that justified their actions toward me. My whole life I was looking for love and so badly I was willing to accept that love at any cost. The next question would be, “How can someone who has been abused themselves become the abuser?” When you live a life style for so long one can’t distinguish between right and wrong doing toward others. Not only was I abused and became an abuser I also watched abuse happen to my mom. Sometimes people being abused with young one don’t realize the impact on their children and the damage they can cause in their mental state and their future relationships. In conclusion, domestic violence is a cycle that begins with being abused and can lead to being the abuser. I personally felt that it was extremely important to share bits and pieces of the abuse that I endured through out my life. I want to save a child’s life in hope that parents will start speaking out to their child as early as one is able to communicate. My mission is to provide parents and children with the tools and knowledge of preventing them from becoming victims of sexual abuse. When you think you know someone, you will be surprised on how little you actually know of ones true nature.