In my home, my adopted mom’s word was law. No one crossed her. Maybe my dad just felt that since he was disabled, she could keep up with us. He often was know to have said that he couldn’t deal with us because his nerves were bad. There were a few times that my dad did stand up to my mom, but mostly he let her have her way.
When my mom decided that it was time to have the talk, my dad of course let her have the room. She would take us into the bedroom and practice what to do on dates that never happened. I never even thought something was up with that until later.
After an emotional visit with my therapist, I asked if she had a teddy bear. She was confused and said that she didn’t. However, she did have a stuffed dog. In my heart, I knew what my therapist would say.
“I am so sorry little doggie, but there is something I need to know.” I pet the dog.
“My mom would frequently take us into her room to practiced and learn what to do on dates. Sometimes she would touch my inner thigh and ask what would I do if a boy touched me like that. Multiple times when my breasts were going, she would check their progress or rub them. More often, she when my top showed the least amount of cleavage, she would pull the neckline out so she could look at my breasts.” By the end, my voice was more of a whisper as tears flowed downed my face. I knew in my heart I knew what had happened.
My therapist proceeded to tell me that I had been molested by my adopted mom. I was crushed. Not only did she put me in a position to be molested and raped by a man, she was also molesting me too. It finally made sense why she didn’t want me to tell, everyone would know her secret.
To be honest, I don’t have a flowery story of how I can forgive her for what she did to me, but I can say this: I refuse to back down. I am no longer going to carry the burden of secrecy any longer. Speaking out is so freeing. It takes away the power they held over me. Speaking out also takes away the pain because I realize that I am stronger for speaking out.