The Key

Sometimes I want to tell you The words on the tip of my tongue Springing to life the emotion That tosses inside of me like fiery flames However... The lips guard the inner depths of my being With a lock and key not easily broken Sometimes I want to say things But... Toss them in  my mind too much Like an ocean debating their cause Then they lose their flame I find them so silly and Decide they are not worth saying Sometimes I try to say things It seems it's at the wrong moment And... Misunderstood or mistaken With the emotion not behind it that I had intended Then it reminds me why I do not put the key in the lock The lock that guards my heart, spirit and soul  While I have found my voice to articulate  Found it to express the things that I need  The things needing done, prepared, planned  That was a separate key you see It was not the key That.... Shares the deep dark feelings hidden away inside of me The feelings of joy, overwhelming passion, love And of course those haunting wounds That lie like monsters in the dark depths of my insides.  That key, yes that key is the one I would love to slam in the lock And... Let it all pour out But I guard my inside I guard it tight and keep that key hidden With silence not allowing it to be spoken Nor cross my lips Only haunt my mind As it screams Thrashes about Begging to come out And.... No one can hear it Only myself So I guard it tighter Wondering if I will ever feel safe enough To pour out what's inside So that light can fill the dark spaces Occasionally the lock gets old, rusty It burst forth With things spilling out  You just never know If it's the joy, love or the pain That is able to finally penetrate That rusty controlled tight never ceasing To guard lock And... Almost always I regret it It seems the very things That I had guarded are always said To the wrong ones And then are taken, twisted Used in return to offer More pain..... That must be buried And.... Added to those dark depths  A stronger lock A better key More controlled than before Never allowing my tongue The free reign It desperately desires to have For fear of harming others For fear of being harmed For sacrifice of showing Unconditional Love

Boldly She comes

I felt a boldness rise up in me and where it come from I knew.  From the depths of the truth of who I am.  Of who I know I was as a little girl before everyone broke me and pulled me down and told me I was nothing, I was nobody, I was fat, I was ugly, I was worthless, I was no good, I was a liar, I was lazy. No matter what I did or said it was never enough.  

I learned to not be me, to satisfy their words that spewed out of their mouths like hot fiery venom pointed in my direction. Burning me, searing me with their ugliness to make themselves feel superior. So I became what they needed and did not rock the boat nor open my mouth with anything that was my own words or feelings.

Until one day without a life vest, I jumped and floated away and at first with a few who swam along my side.  Then, alone,  as the words of those who cursed me for daring to live made the waves too rough. They penetrated the ears of the ones trying to throw me a life vest, and they were swallowed up in the ocean leaving me with no one but the unborn child in my stomach fighting for this life with me.   

Now many years have gone by and their words seem small to me.  Their words seem more a reflection of who they are because they are definitely not words of who I am or who I was even many years ago when they were slammed into my mind, heart, and soul. 

Today I felt a boldness rise up and peak out from the inside.  Like it was readying me to soar above all those words and be who I am.  A Great and Fiery Wild Woman!  Walking boldly in to her future with her head held high.  I am beautiful, I am brave, I am a woman of truth and I will bow before no one.

Survive or Thrive

Life spinning around and around and around never ending always going full force.  Even when we stop it's still spinning wildly as the winds of a hurricane.  I stand still as the stormy winds spin every which way and the deep ocean waves rage inside of me.  Wanting better, wanting more, feeling broken, tired of the battle both external and internal.... Can I get up one more time?  Can I jump back in and start throwing punches once again?  Do I even care to any more?

Fighting to ....... Fight..... What am I fighting for again?   I think I might just be so lost in the mundane life of survival that I'm not quite sure what it was I was trying to fight for.  I wake up and as my eyes opened I'm here let's do this again.... Another day... then before I can barely make it out the bedroom another punch hits my gut.... sucking out the air in my very lungs and stirring the wild ocean sea once again .....

As the clock keeps ticking reminding me that we are breathing, our bodies are consuming we are 'living'? No no no no this is not living.... NO...This is not living.... This is survival..... This is just make it until .... Just enough until.. Just stretch until.... Maybe we can make it happen..... No no no no not one more day.... I don't want too.... I can't.... The punch was too hard this time.....

Then.......

I look at the beautiful faces next to me and on the screen that have birthed out of my body so full of 'life' not thinking of survival but giggles.... Life.. Love.... Hugs.. Kisses... Sweet I love yous .... Full of expectations...and I say YES this is why I am here..... THIS Is WHY I THRIVE.... I am THRIVING not surviving.  I am THRIVING not surviving.... I will THRIVE and be alive not just survive.....

The Threshing Floor

Sometimes I find myself on the threshing floor.  The tears sting my eyes and I'm angry that the pain is still there.  It hurts me that I still desire to have the person who carried me in her womb love me, genuinely just love me.  I know that would never be possible because of the pain and wounds she has already inflicted in my life.  The things she still tries her best to harm me with. The words tainted with hate and malice dripping from her tongue all the while with that sweet smile on her face.  Which is what makes this so infuriating for me that I still give a 'flip' about her thoughts of me.

I don't think it's that I even care specifically for her.  I think it's just like adopted children - the lack of understanding - the feeling of abandonment - wondering how someone can't love or give a rat's behind about their own flesh and blood.  Not that this is the case or reason why all mothers use adoption but no matter their reasons studies have shown over and over again how it affects the child and what they feel.

I wish sometimes I had a heart that could just disassociate her right out of my head, however, my irrational heart can't seem to stop the feelings or the thoughts racing in my head.  It hurts me that after all these years it stings enough to produce the hot liquid that pours from the windows of my soul.  It hurts me that she hates me. It hurts period and no matter how many times I 'think' I've worked through her rejection and her hate towards me, it always comes and slaps me across the face leaving stinging tears rolling down.

I will take a deep a breath and move on as I always do.  Just a little stronger, a little wiser and willing to find a way to heal these wounds. There is too much goodness in my life to dwell on any turmoil that is brought forth from someone who continues to strike out at you all because you released the truth of your molestation.  I just need a moment from time to time to regroup so that I can move forward. 

I am blessed no doubt.  A wonderful husband, beautiful children, handsome grandsons and my cup flows over daily.  I am truly grateful every day for the love and abundance I have in my life!  So this too shall pass. 

Frustrations

I am a very laid back person.  I am not easily offended.  I forgive quickly and anger slowly.  It takes a lot to push me over the edge. I'm good at controlling my emotions and keeping them in check.  Shoving however I'm really feeling and putting on the brave face. Then examining my feelings and working them out myself between myself and God.   

 

Sometimes though, it is much harder than others.  I get frustrated when I see those closest to me become instantly depressed or angry or upset over something that I hold on my shoulders almost daily. When I reach out to request help to share this weight and am welcomed with adversity instead of unity it really sends a blow to my emotions as well.  I think it's more the haughty attitude that I watch come forth of them feeling entitled to have a two year old tantrum as an adult. 

 

Don't get me wrong we are all entitled to fall to pieces and maybe this is my issue holding others to a way to high standard of being able to control their actions.  I mean fall apart yes, but when you make others around you feel like your mad at them for your depression and your anger and your own disappointment I have an issue with that.  Right now I'm just frustrated at this person because I feel like I'm being punished for asking for their input and  unity when they are in a role in my life that I should not even have to ask for this type of support. 

 

I like to be up front and honest and when I came to them I did not expect them to have a tantrum stomp off and say thanks I'm probably going to stress myself into a heart attack now.  It disappointed me, it hurt me because I expected unity and ideas to be discussed on how to handle this situation but not what happened and then the silent treatment.   When I came back later and tried to talk and asked if they were mad at me (and was quickly cut off and could not finish my sentence) as they barked NO I'm just very depressed and then stomped off again it only left me feeling more hurt.  Which does not solve either problem at this point because now by the attitude and actions of this person there is a gap between us and the original problem that needs to be addressed.  We all have the right to our emotions and feelings. 

 

We can not choose our emotions they just happen. The only thing we can choose is what we do with them when they hit us.  In all emotions we have a choice as to how we react to them.  Now I'm having to make a choice with my pain in this situation and how to act on it.  I want to react like those who surround me act.  Like it's perfectly fine to  show our fanny but I know it would only make things escalate and it's not the right thing to do. 

 

I've always said my greatest down fall is the overwhelming drive inside of me to do the freaking right thing.  I know I say this with annoyance because many times doing the right thing has brought immediate and excruciating pain to my own life like I never thought possible but yet I can't bring myself to deliberately be ugly. Sometimes this is frustrating to me, not because I want to be a bad person but there are times I just want to do what I feel like doing verses what I know is right.  But I don't and I can't.    

 

I probably will not bring up to this person how they made me feel because with this person it seems to only  push them further away.  I will probably just deal with my own frustrations and wait for them to say something, if they do.  I have to say the older I get the less tolerance I have for these types of situations. 

Who Am I Really?

You know society.... ugghh.... I'm sure many will judge me .... hang me on the proverbially cross for this... however guess what I'm human???  I'm so tired of main stream religion that preaches hell fire and damnation... Guess what My God loves me... My Jesus he came and said LOVE EVERYONE... he said God created all, loves all and show grace to them and JUDGE NOT them as you do not want to be judged.... so those who are hanging all Muslims out to dry yeah YOU stop it .... let's forget the Christian religion has Westborough Baptist church who is insanity at it's best.   Radical groups are radical groups they exist in ALL denomination.  ISIS NO I'm not for them but don't tell me how to worship God and I won't tell you either! Cause I love my creator!  

I am a woman and I love being a woman and THANK GOD he made me one.  While we live in a world where women are made to be inferior and underneath men I just don't believe it to be true.  I believe as a matter of fact that Jesus walked this earth  to raise women back up into a place of equality  After all he abolished main stream religion and they are the ones who crucified him. He said LOVE GOD with all your heart and neighbor as yourself.   ARE you loving your neighbor even if they are Muslim or a different race or a different branch of religion than you?


Even  though the bible says there is no man nor woman no free no slave society says you are less than because you are the lowly woman.  I've had plenty show me that being a woman is an honor that men will never understand.  They are NOT beneath me but they are NOT above me.   We are equals as it says in his word. 


I can love our God and know I'm exactly what he created me to be. 

 I'm coming into that and I love it... I love being a woman... A mother ... what I a meant to be.. what I am destined to be a Grandmother a giver of life... a supporter of the person God created us to be.

I still have an connection to God just like very other living thing not less or more important than anything else!!! Because GOD created us all....

When A Mother Doesn't Love You

When a Mother doesn't love you....

God has laid on my heart to write this blog to be transparent in this area. I've been so transparent in the area of abuse I endured in my first marriage. So what is different when it's from a Mother? What is different when a Mother doesn't love you?

When I was a little girl I do not ever remember my Mother playing with me, laughing with me or even really saying anything kind thing to me except once when I was in high school she said she was proud of how I was captain of the pep squad she went to one game in 3 years and said I did a good job at leading them and that they actually listened to me. That is the only kind thing I ever remember my Mother saying to me through out my entire life. My Mother was never one to do much with me one on one. I do remember her reading Dr Seuss books to me before my Dad and her got divorced she would always read to me as he was getting ready to come home. She did enroll me in piano. But quit taking me when she got involved with another man. Dance when I was younger but then told me how I could not dance as well as my cousins who enrolled after I did. I was enrolled in Gymnastics as well but her new husband at the time kept her so busy she wouldn't let me go to my end of year program because he wanted to go and shoot guns that Saturday. As it was I had to walk from school across the hwy to go to gymnastic and then she flipped out because my Nana found out I was walking it. She ended up pulling me out because of it. 

You see my Mother was always so focussed on my Father and doing what ever she could to attempt to force him to stay and then focussed on the next man in her life it was like I was looked over, an inconvenience just in the way. My younger brother now he, he was the apple of her eye. He hung the moon, he could do no wrong. He was her world, her everything.

Becoming an adult and coming into motherhood is when I really started to question my childhood. Thinking to myself more often than not how I could never treat my children the way my Mother had treated me. I still did not dwell on it in my early 20s. I just accepted and moved on and did not let the impact or sink in.

It was after I left my ex husband who was very abusive that I realized who my Mother really was. But before I get to that let me just give a few examples of things to let you know how my Mother was.

I was always compared to my cousins constantly. Why couldn't I be like "xyz" and match my clothes correctly this is when I was 4/5 yr old. She did it why couldn't I. Why couldn't I make perfect grades like her. Now granted I was a predominately straight A's maybe a few B's student until Jr High but I will get to that and then again in high school I maintained a 3.99 GPA. Why wasn't I more organized like so and so. Why was a not tiny and petite like her. Why did I have to be like my Father.

My mother always told me I was less than everyone around me. Always comparing me to everyone else. Never taking into regard my fears, insecurities, doubts or feelings. I was basically told to shut up and suck it up and never to tell anyone anything. Everything had to be 'private' and not repeated and I could tell no one anything you didn't talk to people. Her greatest thing was that you do not have friends and I needed to learn that I needed to learn that there was no such thing as friends. Especially women could never have friends because it wasn't possible.

I do not know what happened to my mother for her to feel so strongly about that but she did. I also grew up with hearing her talk so poorly about her sisters and her Mother. There was not a woman or female on earth that was worthy unless she was comparing them to me because according to her I was the lowest there was.

She use to spank me for the most ridiculous things. Like sitting by the furnace one morning before school after I was dressed, teeth brushed, hair done and even shoes on because I was cold. She said I should of been on the couch. Now she never told me to go sit there she just said get ready. I got ready and was cold and sat by the furnace. She beat me that morning and then blamed me for making her cuss while she was beating me. She kept saying see what you made me do??? Do you see what you make me do because you make me so mad. But I loved my Moma I tried so hard to be who she wanted me to be for so long.

I will never forget being a little girl and crying because I was scared after she and my Dad got divorced begging her to come and sleep in the bed with her one night. She was single at the time and absolutely refused to allow it and of course there was my 3 year old brother at the time snuggled up with her in the bed while I was standing in her door way begging her to even just let me sleep on the floor with my pillow and blanket. I grew up terrified of the dark and that night I was so scared. I was so incredible scared and she so coldly told me NO go to your room and shut up while she lay there holding my brother closely.

I never blamed my brother I thought at least he got to feel loved and cherished and told how great and wonderful he was.

I remember getting sick one night and not making it to the toilet to puke but making it to the bathroom. I was about 9 maybe almost 10. She yelled and yelled at me about not making it to the toilet and puking in her bathroom floor. She screamed at me while I was throwing up more in the toilet and tossed me towels and told me to figure it out and clean it up. That I had never thought of anyone but myself and was selfish and needed to clean up the mess I made and I did. I cleaned up my mess and puked some more in the toilet and apologized the next day because she went back to bed with her new husband while I fixed what I had messed up. But it was not good enough she gave me a scrub brush and pinesol to scrub it better and then the mop.

I was told how at 10 I needed to stop eating because I would get hips like my Aunt and I was told that I weighed more than an of my cousins. Now as a child you don't think this way but I was the oldest out of all the grand kids so hopefully I did weigh more than the younger kids below me. My weight was an issue for her constantly. She harped on me for every piece of food in my mouth. For how I was not petite. I was an average sized kid but to her I was horrible and not tiny the way she was when she was a child. I was big and big boned and fat. I heard it all my life about my weight and continued to hear it from my ex husband.

I loved her I wanted her to love me too. It got really bad when her and my Dad got divorced. She wanted me to testify against him. She wanted me to say things. I wasn't sure of. She put me in the room with a judge who asked me questions and I was a very shy child. She requested counseling for me in the divorce agreement and then told me if I told the counselor anything she would beat me that it was not the counselors business what went on in our house.

She finally quit taking me to counseling and said it was because of my Dad not showing up but I remember one time I talked to the counselor I can still remember in my mind doing it... I remember he said to make up a story and draw a photo of that story .. I loved to write stories and draw... I was 8 years old I told him a story and drew a photo. I couldn't tell you what story it was but I remember the photo had a big blue blobby person in it. I called this blob blue. Whatever it was I said I do remember she never took me back there to talk to that counselor again. She was all kinds of angry and mad about it as well.

I'm sure you are thinking your Mother was not so bad. I'm not saying she was horrible I'm just accounting for the fact that she did not love me as you will see as I go on.

So my Mother is divorced. She marries a man. A man who no one could believe she was marrying. I did not like him from day one. She had dated a few guys. I had liked them all but not this one. He was mean to my dog. He teased her was mean to her made her upset. She was a chicapeepoo (Chihuahua Pekinese and poodle mix) She was tiny I had her since I was born. He was cruel to her and they were not even married. I begged her not to marry him. I begged her and cried. She told me that I was selfish that she had a right to be happy and that I had always been such a selfish child that I was just like my Dad and just like his sister and his mother just a mean little selfish girl. That she deserved happiness and she was having it regardless of what I thought. I then just silently cried and never said anything to her again.

So then it began. He use to beat my brother so badly and my brother does not remember any of it at all. I will never forget one day at my Nana's he knocked over a cup of milk on the counter and he immediately started crying and crying and my Nana and Papa were so upset because they did not understand why he was so upset and saying he was sorry. I told them because if he spills something at home he gets beat by her husband. Of course that left me to get beat when my Mother picked me up from there and they told her he better not lay a hand on him again. Because I had told something that should not of been said. I was the 'problem' it was my fault and I needed to learn to keep my mouth shut.

My Mother worked nights sometimes. She would leave him alone with us. He would turn off the electricity in the whole house and lock us in my room. My room had a lock on the outside of the door knob. I got to where I hid a small flash light hidden because I was so afraid of the dark. So that I would have some light when he did that there was also a street light outside of my window and I would open the curtain for light. Holding my brother scared to death while he beat on the walls and door trying to scare me further.

I would tell my Mother who just didn't care. Told me to behave and maybe it wouldn't happen. No big deal to her. It was always me I was the problem. He put us in the car one night with his friends and pretended like he was going to drive the car into the water at the doc I was terrified. My other fear. I was scared of being trapped in a car in the water where it was dark. That same night I'll never forget he chased a dog down in the road and I mean chased it and ran it over. I cried and cried it was very disturbing to me. It scared me so much seeing that poor dog run down. He told my Mother it was all a lie that none of it happened that 'you know Hollie she is making up stories" My Mother did not believe me of course. He never 'lied' he was always right.

When I was 11 years old he began molesting me. At the time I did not tell my Mother but how she didn't know I will never understand. It was my job to wake my brother up and get him ready to go in the mornings for school and I did. But no longer did I take a bath, brush my hair or even teeth. I didn't understand why I no longer cared then but as an adult I realize I was most likely extremely depressed. I don't know how as a child I found the strength the only thing I can say is my strength comes from God then and now. I started keeping a baseball bat by my bed at night and putting a chair under my door to hold it shut and put stuff in front of the chair to keep him out. I told him I would break his knees with that bat if he ever touched me again and tell my Dad what he was doing. I got very violent but only with him if he came anywhere near me I would begin scratching him, hitting him punching him. He would literally harass me every moment he was at home in one way or another. He never hit me he hit my brother but he stopped molesting me when I threatened to tell my Dad and never slept again without that bat by my bed.

He still said things to me... I look back and think how did my Mother not know? At 10 and 11 he would say things like sit on my face! In front of my mother? She would hear him. Honestly it makes me sick when I think about it. If someone said that to my daughter at ANY age in my presence I would have an issue. I was clueless had no idea what he meant at all as a young child. He also would with my Mother present want to go to the beach when we had not planned to several times and tell me that I could get in the water only if I took my bra off. I never thought nothing of it as a child because I thought ok well here Mom here is my bra. But I look back and think how innocent I was and she did nothing to protect me. How sick he was and so thankful God gave me strength and wisdom to make it stop because for so many it does not stop.

Time went on and we moved from everything and everyone I know to TX. He was still harassing me but not molesting me to the point that one time the neighbors called the cops because I was screaming at the top of my lungs like someone was murdering me because he was throwing cups of water on me over and over chasing me around the house now this was considered playing but then he would sit on top of me and hold me down doing the same thing having my mother bring cups of water over and over to pour on me. I had to 'know' this was playing and fun and normal and it really was normal to me at this point. His behavior was always right and always a joke. Yes the whole house was soaked and did she ever tell him to grow up and stop? Nope not my Mother. It was perfectly fine. If he was happy she was happy. 

Moving to TX was a big deal. Once we moved there my Mother did not care where I went or what I did. I'm thankful that I'm still alive and never got into any trouble. I never drank or used drugs or anything even though I had ample opportunity to do so. I remember being out at night walking home from the theater across a major HWY at 2am sometimes later and not thinking anything of it. I mean surely if it was not ok My Mother would of picked me up and not let me do it. She didn't care if I went to school or not. I am thankful that I went to school to get away from her husband. He use to always try to give me alcohol I think that is why I never drank except once until after I was married and moved away. I was to afraid to not be in my right mind around him.

My Mother's husband then told her he had a friend I was 13 his friend was in the military. She told me I needed to go out with him. Now mind you yes he was 19 near 20 years old. My Mother told me to go out with him. She sent us on our 'first' date. Later I married him and he was very abusive for many years. But that is not what this is about. She encouraged this relationship and pushed me right into marrying him. I will never forget two of my friends. One when we were sitting at the table playing card with him and my mother he was sliding his foot up her leg as far as he could trying to touch her. She jumped up and we went to my room. She tried to tell my mother he said we were lying and she didn't believe us. He also grabbed another friends behind at a party I had at the house. We didn't even bother trying to tell her because she wouldn't listen. 

As time went on I graduated high school a year early and I got married at 16 years old she signed for me (no I was not pregnant). I moved away. I still called my Mother from time to time. Eventually moving back to our home town where she had moved back too. At that time I was 21 my Mother came over one night and broke down crying and telling me the abuse she had endured from her husband my heart went out to her. I ached for her. I wanted to help her. I was pregnant with my oldest son at the time. I will never forget our conversation.

She told me she was so scared. See her husband had always had guns. I grew up with guns laying everywhere. Guns on the coffee table, kitchen table, bathroom sink, night stand all loaded and ready to shoot. He even had 'accidently' throughout the years shot them through walls very close to my Mother and I. He had tons of them and re-loaded his own ammo. She told me that if she ever ended up dead to please know even if a suicide note was left that she would NEVER kill herself EVER. She told me she had walked in on him at his gun store and he was having sex with the girl from the shop next door.

I was so afraid for her I knew what he had done to me. I knew what kind of man he was. I was so scared for my mother and I wanted to help her. I took a very deep breath and I let it all out. I told her about him molesting me thinking ok she is going to her home and she is breaking up with him if I tell her about what he did with me (I had 2 kids already at the time) she will surely leave him she will not stay with him because I KNOW as a Mother that I would leave in a minute it would give me strength to leave in a minute.

My Mother looked stunned and said are you sure. I said yes I never told you because I didn't' think you would believe me but I wanted to give you confirmation that he is no good and that you should leave. She drove out of my driveway leaving my brother with me while she went to tell him she was leaving him and I didn't hear from her until the next day. At that point she said she had been wrong he was not having an affair that what she walked in on was not them really having sex and then she wanted to talk to me in person.

She picked me and we went for a drive. She questioned me about him molesting me and wanting to know who I had told I had told NO ONE but my ex husband who I was married to at the time. I had not told a sole. She then got angry and said well he is going to an attorney and I can't believe you he needs to protect himself from you! I was looking at her in disbelief. I was looking at her as if I had no clue what she meant. She then stopped her car and parked it and looked me dead in the face and said "What makes you think my husband would EVER want you???" "You will pay for spreading these lies you will pay for making up this story and he has already talked to an attorney to protect himself form you!!!!!" All I could do was cry.

I felt so horrible that I had thought she would care. That I had thought she would believe me. That I had told my deep dark secret and she hated me for it. I had only told her to 'help' her and all I had done was something wrong again told her the truth to be called a liar and told me she would make me pay???? For what? If he was so innocent then why was he at a lawyers office protecting himself? From what? From the victim he molested. And how could my Mother so blatantly write off her only daughter. She told me that she could not possible leave him she was to old to find another man to start over. I cried and cried. She told me I was pathetic and needed to stop being such a liar like my Father. I asked her to please take me home and she did. She did not speak to me for a long time. When she finally did it was strained and only at the coaching of my Nana.

Of course I was so naive to forgive her so easily and just brush it off. I kept saying she is my Mother surely she loves me. I allowed her back into my life again. Only to be deeply hurt so much by her again. This seemed to be a pattern with her for a few years after this. Her hurting me, me forging her and opening up my life and heart to her again. She pretended to be there for me she knew I was having problems in my marriage. My ex (current husband then) was seeing a young girl of only 14 years old and he was 36. She was pretending to talk to me about it and help me discover this and catch him. But when it come down to it she wasn't helping me at all she was telling him everything I knew everything I searched for every time I left my house looking for him. I won't go into all the details of her betrayal. Her loathing for me. Her hate for me, her only daughter. But it was strong. When it all came down one night I saw the magnitude of her hate for me as she teamed up with him to start a course of events to try and destroy my life.

Years went by and I ran into her husbands brother. He was very sweet. He gave me a hug and told me how good it was to see me. He then said something that was so empowering to me. He asked me how my Mother was. I said 'M' you have no idea. I have not spoken to her for a very long time at that point. I said I don't know why she hates me so much but she does now. He said 'Hollie she has always treated you that way I watched you grow up with her treating you like that, it was like she never loved you at all and wanted you gone' As those words hit me slap in the face I knew in my heart that it was true. He started saying do you remember when she did 'XYZ' and 'XYZ' It all came rushing back to me in a very adult way of looking at things as if it was not me but it was me. At that moment I had to realize that my Mother had never loved me. I know she always said to me that I was the reason she had to marry my Father and for that she could never forgive me. I don't' know if I was that naive that I did not realize she meant it with all of her heart. That is was my fault she got pregnant and had to get married. She loathed me from day one. Or if I was just numb from all the negative hurtful things she said to me throughout my childhood and early adult life. But it came crashing in on me with a very REAL realization that My Mother Never Loved me.

My heart broke for many years in the realization that my Mother did not love me and probably never had. She provided a home, clothes, food and in front of relatives ohh my goodness she could win an Emmy because she is a professional at playing the good Mother. Everyone thought/thinks she is just the sweetest thing. Talk about sweet talking smiling from ear to ear southern charm. She has it. Full force. But behind closed doors she is not like that AT ALL. She puts on an awesome show though. I remember watching her as a child talk from one person to the next on the phone and each one got a different story about what ever she was talking about. Which was usually my Dad. With one she would say this and with another she would say that and with the next one it was this. Always weaving her story just so for that particular person. There was some truth in the things she would tell them and then a web of lies outlining all the rest. She was a master at the manipulation of sympathy from people. Being the sweet innocent victim always.

I never quit looking at my children thinking how could she be that way to me. How could she? But years went by and I thought I was past the hurt of it all. The betrayal of a Mother not loving you is a deep wound and hard to forge pass. Then one day. I made a comment on my oldest daughters Facebook about a sucker, yes that is right a Lolly Pop. She attacked me flat out and her older sister joined in. They said I was a horrible mother who starved my children and never took care of them. It was like I was a child again being torn down and ripped apart. I let them have at it and say what they wanted. I sat back and was polite and even apologized on my daughter's page for all of things being posted on there by them as they were spurting vindictiveness and hate towards me.

My Mother then blocked me and her 4 at the time youngest grand kids from her Facebook. It's not like we were even friends on Facebook or my younger children as it was. I had shielded them from her. I had left the relationship... Made peace with what she had done and forgiven her. But after all those years she was still so angry at me... So angry maybe because I was brave enough to stand up and say He molested me Mom right under your nose. Or maybe because I was STRONG! I FOUND my strength and I used it to get out of my abusive relationship. I lost my world and I survived.

I came out fighting and I fought and I fought and I fought until I collapsed then I had to get up and fought and fought and fought some more! I made a life when everyone thought I would crumble. Now did I crumble with some things that happened of course.... My heart ached and broke in 10 million pieces because separating from your children when you love them with your entire heart has to be the worse hurt and pain there ever could possible be!

At this point I have no clue why her anger is so fresh and her condemnation is so fresh in her mind and life against me. I have no idea why her pain is still so great and how she still wants to hurt me any way she can after all these years. But I can proudly say that she could say or do anything to me at this point in my life and it would not hurt me or phase me. I feel so sorry for her. I have nothing but empathy for her that her life must be worse than it has ever been with a man who still abuses her because Ladies, men do not just stop abusing it only progresses as time goes by it's inevitable. Even with intervention of batterers programs there is only a 3% chance of them changing. I worry about her to a degree and hope that one day she has peace, happiness and can really find love that she has always wanted and never had. No one deserves to be abused. But as for me I have healed the wound that she left in my heart of not having a Mother who loved her daughter and know that I will never understand because I could never be her or do what she did. I wish her life to spring forth happiness even if it's only for a short time. But I no longer desire her love or acceptance nor do I need them to be a whole person.

You see in God I found that he is my Father and he is my Mother and he puts people on earth that can be there for you when you can't have the basic human things like a birth Mother who loves you. He will bring forth people who can fill that void and love you as if you were theres as if they birthed you and for that I am thankful. Just as Jesus said when they told him your Mother is outside waiting for you. He said "Look around you these are my Mother's, my sisters and my brothers" God heals all wounds and fills all voids. He places in us and around us what we need and I know he has a purpose for all that we go through.

In this it has given me the ability to reach out and 'Mother' others who are hurting and in need. It has made me appreciate my own children 100xs more than I ever thought possible. No one should ever have a Mother who does not love them. But if they do - know that there is someone who can love you like a Mother that God will place in your life. I thank God for the "Mothers" in my life. My Nana, My Mom (Kim my Step-Mom) and many others that make me feel as if they care like a Mother should for a daughter. That pray for me and with me and love me with no only if's.

 

 I hope that younger girls/woman I come in contact with that are struggling with their Mothers that I can help them know that they are fearfully and wonderfully made by the creator and are the most beautiful person inside and out. That there Mother does not determine their future or self worth. There are so many awesome Mothers out there so I'm sure it's very hard to understand if you have not experience this. But I think when we go through things we need to take them and use them to reach those that are going through the same thing. Always remember this is life and love and acceptance and beauty even when your Mother doesn't love you.