Dear Mommy | Imamother

amother

Mon, Aug 18 2014, 11:23 pm

Not sure if this is the right place to post this thread...

Dear Mommy,
Yesterday, you told me, in conversation, that you have a hard time talking to the younger kids about personal safety. I listened quietly, and then quickly changed the subject cuz there was so much I wanted to say, but I cannot.
Why, Mommy? Why did you let your personal discomfort stop you from talking to your kids? Do you know that I was abused? Yes, I am one of 'those'. I was s-xually abused. Someone touched me in the wrong way, and then did so much more than touch me. I didn’t know what was happening. Didn’t understand what I was feeling. Didn’t have the words, the vocabulary, to describe it. All I knew was that I had no choice but to listen. I knew the bad things that would happen if I didn’t listen, if I ever told. And even if I had wanted to tell, I didn’t have anyone to whom I could admit this shameful secret.
Mommy, I tried to say no. I really, really tried. But there was so much I didn’t understand. How can I know that my body is mine and only mine if no one ever sat down to tell me that? How can I know about bad secrets if I was never taught?
Mommy, those empty bottles of whiskey you found in my close…my difficulties dressing up and acting more 'girlie'…Mommy don’t you understand?? Oh, professionals use lots of clinical words….trauma…molestation…rape…dissociation…self harm….but somehow those words don’t seem to describe it. The terror, the guilt, the shame. And that horrible feeling of helplessness all those nighs when you know what was about to happen, yet you know too you know that there's nothing you can do to stop it.
Mommy, I'm trying to rebuild my shattered self. I've sat in hundreds of hours in therapy, spent thousands of dollars on appointments. But, I'll never be the same. All the trauma work, all the skills, nothing can ever erase the images; nothing can ever delete those memories.
Mommy, you light the candles on Friday night and when you smile at me, I know you're seeing that little girl with those perfect blond curls. That innocent child. Mommy, that innocence and purity is gone. I was taken. I was used. I was somebody's toy, a means for their pleasure
Mommy, what if I had known? I don’t know if my abuse was preventable, but maybe it wouldn't have lasted so long. Maybe the professionals would only be using the word molestation and not rape. Maybe I wouldn’t have so many years of my life broken and shattered. Maybe I wouldn’t have felt that overwhelming helplessness.
If only…if only you had sat down and told me, 'sweetie it's your body and your privacy'…if only you had explained that no one should touch me in certain places and in certain ways…if only you had told me that I could come to you…if only… if only …
Mommy, I know now. I know my body is mine. I know I have the right to say no. I know that no one can take my body and use it for their pleasure. Mommy, I know now, but it's too late.

My mother's discomfort, came at the expense of my innocence, my purity, my happiness. Your discomfort, your hesitations to 'expose' your children, your excuses, they can cost your children's safety, their bodies, their souls. Is it worth the price???
For me, it's too late; but, for you, it may not be too late