My 3 1/2 year old self.

I was scrolling through Facebook recently and I came across a nice picture of my friend's 4 children who had an impromptu sleepover with their grandparents. All of the kids had on a tee shirt from grandpa for nightgowns for the sleepover. It was an  innocent and cute picture but I've been a mess since seeing it. Let me explain.

First a bit of a back story. My paternal grandfather died before I was born. My grandmother married a nice man just before I was born. My grand parents adored me. I stayed with them most weekends. They slept in separate beds. When I would fall asleep on the couch I would wind up in either grandma or grandpa's bed. So waking up and not realizing at first which bed I was in was a normal occurrence for me. Both my grand parents were kind and loving and never did anything inappropriate to me. EVER.

One night I woke up in bed. Someone was pushing me under the covers. They had a white cotton tee shirt and men's briefs on. At first, to my horror, I thought it was my grandfather because he always wore a mans white tee to bed. I quickly realized it was my uncle. I had no ideal what he was doing. He slowly pushed me to his groin area and you can guess the rest. My grandmother let me sleep with my uncle and had no ideal what he would do to me. He was 14 at the time and I'm sure she didn't think any thing like that would happen between her own child and most favored grandchild.

I was scared but mostly confused. I don't remember the incident ending and I don't remember the next morning and I don't even know if it was the first time.


The following weekend I stayed with my grandparents again as usual. My mother had forgotten to pack my pjs. My grandmother decided to let me use my grandfathers white tee as a nightgown for me to sleep in.
When I saw the white tee I started sobbing hard and kept saying no no no.  My grandmother had no ideal why I was carry on so. She finally gave up and put in something of hers on me to sleep in and sent me to my grandfathers lap so he could calm me down. She went the next day and got me new pajamas.

For me, the white tee reminded me of that night with my uncle. I was crying out in the only way I knew how. I don't know why kids don't tell. I don't remember why I didn't. How could my grandmother of known?  I was too young to articulate what had happened.

I often think of my 3 1/2 year old self that night. I want to hold her close and keep her safe. My heart breaks for her. That began 7 years of abuse. I never cried from the abuse after that. I just became resigned to my horrible fate and never told anyone. I will never how that little 3 1/2 year old would of turned out without the abuse and I can never escape the memories.

The one thing I could do as an adult was to make sure my children never suffered the same fate and now they can look back at their childhood in a happy way. I thank God for that.

My first memory.

 My parents moved to Chicago IL with their families to find jobs when they were both 16. They met while there and got married when they were 18 years old.  2 years later my brother was born. I came along 2 years after that. My mother got pregnant again when I was 9 months old. She did not take that too well. She was overwhelmed I guess because she just let me lie around in my crib most of the time  (according to my grandmother). By the time I was 18 mos. my younger sister came along and my mother still left me in my crib most of the time.  I could not walk, talk and was underfed. Even though I was not being cared for properly my mother did take care of  both my siblings and very well I might add. My grandmother came for a visit and saw that I was not being properly cared for.  She took me home to live with her and I think that shamed my mother. My grandmother lavished attention on me, got my weight up and taught me how to walk and talk. I bonded with her and was a happy baby while being with her. When I was about 2  1/2   my mother came and retrieved me. My first memory is walking up the flights of stairs to our apartment in Chicago with my mother and siblings.  I remember thinking " grandma said this is my mother. These 2 children are my brother and sister" I felt no connection. We got in the apartment and my mom just walked away from me and left me in the living room. No welcome home. Hell she didn't even talk to me much less hold me. That event may not seem like a big deal for some but for me it set the tone for my entire relationship with my mother. We never  bonded yet she did with my siblings. Never in my life, not even once, did my mother ever hold me and tell me that she loved me. NEVER.