Childhood Reflections
I have been working on the final two sections of my book—the time when I first realized I was being sexually abused (and had the understanding that it was wrong) and the time when I was homeless for about a year before I finally got into treatment. I came across some of the worst specimens of humankind during that year and writing about this period, along with my childhood has been a little rough the last couple of days.
However, writing about my childhood has allowed me further reflection on the dynamics that were central to the relationships in my family. I used to wonder why my father hated me so much. The only time he ever gave me attention at all was when he snuck into my room late at night and molested me. He rarely spoke to me—heck, he never even looked at me and I don’t remember one time that he ever told me that he loved me. My feelings were so complicated—so messed up. I loved and hated him—I loved him because I thought I should love him. He was my father. But I also feared him and hated him so much—because even at a young age, I knew what he was doing was shameful and wrong. And somewhere inside, I knew it was deliberately hurtful.
When I was eighteen years old, my mother told me a story that was enlightening—one that I think played a big role in the way I was treated while growing up. I have decided to share that story on this blog.
My mother met my father at the University of Wisconsin at Madison, where he was working toward his PhD in biochemistry. My father was a foreign student—an Egyptian and the most exotic person my mother had ever met. She was an undergraduate student at the time, from a poverty stricken, rural Wisconsin background. She grew up sheltered and naïve, having been raised by a religious zealot mother and a father who loved her—but who took a backseat to his wife’s wishes. My mother had never been outside of Wisconsin her entire life. The idea of Egypt must have been so intriguing to my mother.
She didn’t so much fall in love with my father as she fell in love with the idea of my father. She knew the most shocking thing she could ever do, as far as her family went, was to marry this Egyptian—this heathen—so that is what she did. When she married my father, my grandmother told my mother that her children would be ‘born with tails,’ (lol!) but my mother paid no heed—she was eager to experience the world and off she went, to Egypt—the most exotic place she could have imagined in her young life.
Over the next several years, my mother realized the marriage was a mistake. She was deeply unhappy but felt trapped; in those days, women who married badly had made their bed—and they must lie in it.
My mother took a trip back to the U.S. about a year before I was born and on the voyage back to Egypt, she became acquainted with the ship’s captain. They didn’t fall in love but they did have a brief affair and my mother told me a few years ago that it was with this ship’s captain that she’d experienced her first orgasm. She had been a virgin when she married my father and had never enjoyed sex with him.
Racked with guilt when she returned to Egypt, she told my father of the affair. It nearly ended their relationship but in the end it did not. My mother told me that he never mentioned it again—but he certainly never forgot, as became apparent later in my life.
When my parents were finally getting a divorce, I was on tour with the New Shakespeare Company of San Francisco and it was then that I first learned of the affair. My mother managed to track me down on tour (not easy!) to warn me that my father was saying that I was not his daughter—that I was the lovechild of the affair she’d had. She assured me I was not—that the affair had occurred ten months before I was born—and I had been premature at that. She further told me that she and the ship’s captain and she had never even had intercourse so the idea that I could have been his child was impossible. However, the information gave me an epiphany; all of a sudden, I saw with clarity why my father had treated me in the manner in which he did and to me, it also shed light on how he could have justified (however sick it was) his abuse of me.
He never forgave my mother for the affair—I am quite sure of that. Their relationship was never the same after, although he never mentioned it to my mother again. I was now a symbol of everything that had gone wrong—of my mother’s betrayal in a culture that rages against infidelity so much as to allow ‘honor killings’ of women who shame the family in such a manner. My father, of that culture, could never forgive my mother but as he could not take it out on her, I became his ‘honor killing.’
For most of my life, I felt I was responsible in some way for the behavior of my father. I was a bad child—I was not worthy of his love—I deserved the abuse. This is one of the great tragedies of those who do suffer from childhood abuse—you believe you deserve it.
Confronting my father was important in many ways. It was important for me to know that he acknowledged the truth (and for a brief moment, he did). It was also empowering to face him. However, most important was the final understanding of our two roles in what occurred. I finally shed the cloak of responsibility that I had worn for so long. What a huge relief that was. 
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Categories: Sexual Abuse,Healing the Past,Transformation and Change,Writing the Memoir
Hi Melinda --
Thanks for sharing your personal story. It was a gripping read, to say the least. I'm sure there are a lot of people who can relate to your story. I admire your honest and openness and I look forward to reading more about what you learned from your healing and recovery!
ari
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Ari,
Thank you so much for your kind words and for stopping by to visit my blog. My hope is that I can help others make the life changing decisions that I made fifteen years ago.
I appreciate your coming by very much--
Melinda
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What an inspiring story. Healing the past is really hard for a lot of people. I think you are going to help a lot of people with your blog.
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Micki,
That sure is my hope--I know that a blog such as this might have helped me at one point. It's all about passing it along, isn't it? Thanks for stopping by--I really appreciate it. I look forward to checking out your blog.
Melinda
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What courage and strength you have for sharing this story of your life. I don't know if you can ever possibly heal from something as despicable as the way your father treated you, however, I'm glad to see that you are growing from it at this point.
Virtual hugs to you
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Thanks for the virtual hugs, Bradley--I appreciate that and your kind words. It's been a hard and painful road to recovery from the abuse of my childhood--but I do believe it is possible to become whole again. Thankfully, I have a lot of great support--both online and f2f (face2face).
Thanks for stopping by again--I need to get over to Bradley's here again.
Melinda
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Thank you for sharing your story. I'm happy to see that you are able to speak out with such grace and have grown from this experience. Good luck with the memoir!
Chanelle
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Thank you for your thoughtful comment, Chanelle--I appreciate it so much.
Melinda
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Thank you again for sharing your life and pain. "I finally shed the cloak of responsibility that I had worn for so long." I smiled at that because that is such a difficult and as you said a freeing experience. But, it is also painful as you have to face reality of how things really are and put the responsibility where it belongs. It sounds like you were his dumping ground for all of his "bad" self-projections as well as his displaced anger and possible misogyny.
I know that experience all too well and I am in the process of shedding my cloak.
I am a little confused, but I don't want to open up anything for you. However, if your mother's affair were 10 months before you were born that would be a normal pregnancy because from conception it is approximately 10 months and being premature to me doesn't necessarily prove that you weren't conceived by the captain. I hope I'm not stepping over a line here.
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Thank you for dropping by and for your comments--as always, I appreciate your thoughts and insights. Also, please know that you are not stepping over any lines here! I really do welcome all questions and comments from everyone and will do my best to answer them as openly and honestly as possible.
Egypt
I am quite sure the time sequence my mother told me (she reads the blog so perhaps she will comment on this if I am wrong) was that she came back to
I am sending all my very best thoughts and positive healing energy for you. I believe you can reach a point where you can also shed that awful cloak of responsibility and finally place it where it belongs. It is truly freeing to be able to do this.
I feel a very special kinship with you--you are in my thoughts and prayers each day.
Melinda
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Well, I'm convinced. Thank you for your openness. I too feel a kinship and you are in my thoughts and prayers.
This week was tough...I felt real hatred this week toward my step father and his father without going into "bad." And, I was able to handle being nudged into talking about my little girl's retaliatory fantasies which were quite sadistic, violent, bloody and murderous. I feel like I have a lot more to say in therapy. And, it is beyond hatred or murderous rage. It is like there is no word to descibe it and my therapist said, that there are no words to adequately describe what was done to me. I am proud of the work I've done this past week, but emotionally shaking and exhausted. I'm doing well though.
Take care,
Clueless
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Clueless, Wow--I have been right where you have been this last week. I know exactly the emotions that you are describing--and they do leave a person absolutely exhausted--emotionally spent. But I also found that once I went through those emotions and allowed myself to feel that murderous (beyond) rage, then I was able to put it into perspective.
The one thing I can pass along about my recovery is that it there are still bad days from time to time--but the good days far outnumber the bad ones--and it is that for which we strive. I have personally gone through an intensive recovery journey; one that I continue with to this day. I have found that my recovery is a process as well--it is something that I always have to treat because there will always be triggers that cause extreme depression and emotional reactions out of me. I used to think I would 'recover' from my past--but I now know that I will have to always fight for my recovery. And I honestly believe that most people who have suffered abuse, as you and I have, will have to continue to fight for it--it will never be easy--but a happy life can be found because I am proof of that.
I am glad that you are doing well--it sounds as though it has been a brutal week. The rewards of what you have been through have probably not been reaped yet--but I do know from my experience that your hard work will be rewarded.
Hugs,
Melinda
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Thank you. I don't feel so alone. I am not finding people who have really been in this place...my therapist says most people stop treatment before getting here, so it feels really good to know someone else that has felt this. I am proud that I was able to just feel good about sharing with my therapist and the automatic self-destructive thoughts felt more like flashbacks. Seems everything is a flashback right now. Flashing emotionally, kinesthetically, and visually about what occurred and my fantasies. It is tough, but I am doing okay with it and having some longer sessions if need be. I see my therapist four times per week. Last week was brutal and my therapist so clearly pointed out as a warning and that I am not finished. I know this is the healthy thing to do and sometimes that is the only motivation.
I too believe that I will always have tendencies and reactions as my brain became wired thanks to the amygdla, but now the pre-frontal cortex sometimes over rides, but not before I have that automatic response. Sometimes, now I can stop some things.
The beyond homicidal rage is something that I was really glad that I shared it with you...unless, you've been there you really don't get it or the fantasies.
Thank you again,
CC
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CC,
I am glad that you don't feel so alone--and you know, I wish there were more support groups that were readily available for survivors of abuse. After seeing the Angela Shelton movie and then talking to others, I realize how terribly (and tragically) common child abuse is. And one of the bigger tragedies is that so many of us feel so isolated in our pain. It really does help to unload some of that pain by talking about it with others.
It sounds as though you have an amazing therapist. I have to tell you--I really did too. My therapist helped me enormously when I was in graduate school--that was when I really delved into confronting what had happened in my past. It was such a burden to go through while having to deal with the rigors of grad school--but it also couldn't have been avoided any longer. I was like a shaken bottle of rage and hatred--just ready to erupt. I also knew that it would only be a matter of time before I turned to something to mask my intense emotions if I didn't speak to someone--and after having gone through the hell of heroin addiction, I just didn't want to do that to myself any longer. It was, in the end, it was one of the best (and most necessary) decisions I have ever made.
I used to sit in class and have the most intense flashbacks. I would completely block out what was going on in a given room and go right back to where I was when I was abused--it was incredibly hard to deal with this while going through school--and it was because of those flashbacks (and intense night terrors) that I made the decision to finally seek therapy.
And CC, I think you will find that you will be able to control more and more of how you feel--and that is a good thing. Once I really confronted all that anger/rage/hatred--I was able to put it in a safer place. Not to say that it doesn't rear its ugly head from time to time but most days are good days--and that's a great thing.
Huge Hug to you, CC (((((((((hug))))))))),
You hang in there--I am pulling for you every step of the way.
Melinda
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Wow!!! Grad school and flashbacks...yikes. You are amazing, but I also know it was extremely difficult.
Thank you for the encouragement and hugs. I really need it right now. I'm really having a difficult time between the fantasy and reality flashbacks and current feelings getting mixed with past. I just feels so angry at the world and so much homicidal rage alternating to a real deep sadness to depression to urges of self-injury to suicidality. I know the last three are defenses. So, is trying to pick a fight with your husband and therapist on the same day that you have an appointment with a surgeon to decide what to do about the probable fatty mass in my armpit and not wanting anyone even your husband touching you!! The visit didn't happen as the front office was rude, condensending and unhelpful. My husband and I decided to leave and I made an appointment for tomorrow with another surgeon. In two weeks, my therapist is going on vacation. I just want to cry and have someone hold me...there is a lot on my plate right now. I'm just really having a rough time.
Take care,
CC
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Wow, CC--it sounds like you have way too much going on right now. Remember, first and foremost that things are going to get better. There have been so many times in my life when I felt completely hopeless--where I felt like just giving up. In my book, you will learn that there were several times when I was very close to suicide and I actually attempted it on three different occasions. I am so glad that I was not successful--because my life is very good today--so much better than I ever could have imagined during the really dark days.
I am so sorry you are having healthy problems along with everything else. Please be so kind to yourself--I know you are probably harder on yourself than anyone--I know I am as well.
Another (((((hug))))) is in order here. Take care, CC--you are in my thoughts and prayers.
Melinda
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You are a brave, whole and beautiful person and I'm honored to be your friend.
It's so sad that abused kids assume there is something wrong with them and that they are to blame for the actions of their abusers. Worse still I think many become adults without ever uncovering the negative core beliefs about themselves that they hold and therefore, they never change them and the cycle repeats.
Confronting your father was something that you needed to do to level the playing field between you, to hold him accountable in face of the truth and to empower yourself. I'm so glad you did it so the "cloak of responsibility" can rest where it belongs ie. on his shoulders.
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Thank you, timethief--I am truly honored to be your friend as well.
I work with abused kids and this is one of the hardest things to deal with--because I see so much of myself in them. So many place the blame on themselves--we naturally do this, particularly when our abuser is someone that we are supposed to trust--those that we are told love us. It becomes so confusing--love, pain, abuse--no wonder I sought out the escape of drug addiction.
But it is also very rewarding working with kids. Children are far more resilient than adults are--and so I know that the work I do with them may help them avoid some of self-destructive pitfalls that I so willingly embraced.
Confronting my father was the best thing I have ever done as far as my recovery goes. Interestingly, he died only three weeks after the confrontation. It was so good to finally see him as he really was--a weak coward, a sick bastard, and an overall evil person. Seeing him so shriveled and helpless was the best lasting impression I could have ever asked to have of my father.
Melinda
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Melinda - Once again, I read this powerful story and have to come up for air. It's hard to find a deeper wound than becoming a symbol of what is wrong in your parents' marriage - to be an object to be used and then ignored - never to be seen for who you are. It is amazing that you came through that and so much more. You offer such a moving example of not just recovering but moving far beyond that to share with the rest of us how bright and shining your soul really is.
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Wow, John--I am truly humbled by your kind words--thank you so much. I only hope that I can help others who are also striving to become whole.
Melinda
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Boy, howdy! You can write. It is so incredibly easy to read your writing. I have no doubt your book will do well. You have this incredible ability to tell these difficult stories without even a hint of victim tone. You are so amazing and I am so glad I found your blog.
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Thank you, Jen! I appreciate your thoughtful comments so much. Interestingly, when I have written much of my book, I have felt almost detached--as though I am writing about someone that I know very well but who is not me. The book has been an enlightening journey to say the least.
Melinda
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Like timethief, I feel you are a courageous, whole and beautiful person too...and one with enormous integrity as well.
I promise not to tell anyone about your secret...about that tail of yours. I felt it was very becoming! Oops! (LOL)
You are so right about the abused child taking on the mantle of blame of the abuser. All surviving adult sufferers of child abuse, including me, whom I have known, have done that.
It's such a massive task to unravel those feelings I found...all the negative self-beliefs that are informed by and based on blame. They can be so manifold, and so subtle and twisted. I still find the occasional feeling like that which some new circumstance or emotional experience sparks in me. In accepting the blame, we generate whole constellations of negative self beliefs on which we build our personalities.
It takes a very long while to sweep that lot away. Is it ever complete? I'm not totally sure. Perhaps all that is complete is our ability to sense and recognise our negative beliefs when they arise...at least most of them.
Thank you for writing about your experiences authentically here.
I had heard a rumour long ago that my own mother had an affair with the man that ran our local butcher's shop. He was a very jolly and kind soul...often I wondered...and sometimes I even wished!
Big hugs,
Geoffrey x
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Dearest Geoffrey,
Thank you for stopping by and for your always thoughtful comments. I agree wholeheartedly--I have worked with children who have been abused and I have also belonged to support groups for adult survivors of abuse and the one key theme that has run through all is that blaming of oneself--and I really think that is just about the hardest thing to get over.
People are always telling me how strong, healthy, and courageous I am--but those subtle feelings of guilt, shame and inadequacy can rear their ugly heads if triggered. In other words--it is a constant battle for me. It is also a constant battle for me to fight the self-destructive urges that I still have. But the good news is that while it is a struggle still, I have many more good days than bad ones--and that I continue to grow, evolve, and become stronger. There is hope for every person who has grown up with abuse to be able to live a happy, healthy, and normal life--I am proof of that.
You know, your story about the local butcher reminded me of another story. When I was about two years old, my family was in Italy--and an Italian couple approached my mother and offered to buy me (for a GREAT deal of money, too!). They thought I was the most beautiful baby they'd ever seen and were unable to have children themselves.
My mother told me that story when I was about eight or nine years old--and after hearing that, I used to wish my parents had sold me to that couple--often, in fact.
But I lived through what I did for a reason, I believe. I strongly believe that we each have a purpose that we are to fulfill on earth--and it is our lifelong quest to fulfill that purpose.
Big Hugs back atcha, Geoffrey,
Melinda
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Thanks for sharing. When he was a small child, my father spent time in a Nazi concentration camp. He never truly got over that experience, or the others that followed.
Consequently, my mother and I had a rough time while I was growing up.
But I didn't know about any of this until I was older, and didn't find out the details until I returned home for my father's funeral.
Having discovered all of this has made a difference on me and my psychological well being. Which is why I like to read the biographies of others as well.
Again, thanks for sharing.
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Paul's Health--I can only imagine the hell your father must have gone through in that Nazi concentration camp--and it is very true that our experiences definitely shape how we treat others in turn. I am sorry that your father took it out on you and your mother, though--as often happens, violence (regardless of where it originates) is sometimes passed down.
It must have really shed some light on your understanding to learn of the details--and I am sure that it did make a difference in your psychological well being. To me, it really did as well--because at least I had a point of understanding as to where my father's behavior came from.
Thank you for sharing your own story--I appreciate it.
Melinda
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Children feeling responsible for their parents' behaviour, feeling even guilty and afterwards trying to do something about it, to save them in some way..., this is really such a sad, yet unfortunately such a common story of our lives. Of mine too, as it marked me to a rather large extent. At 42 I still need to be rather careful not too fall again into feeling responsible for everybody around me.
Anyway, Melinda, it is enlightening and an honour to be able to get this insight into your life and into the life of an heroin addict. Having three teenagers, I of course share some of the biggest fears a parent can have, and reading your blog helps a lot.
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Robert,
Thank you so much for your comment and for visiting my blog. I am not a parent but I can certainly imagine the weight of the world must feel as though it is on your shoulders in raising your kids. Something tells me that they are lucky to have someone as conscientious and insightful as you for a father. Would that all kids were that lucky.
Thank you again,
Melinda
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I can only echo what others have written. This story drew me in very closely.
Its a wonderful moment of release, when you can see a bigger picture around the experiences you had.
I'm very glad you were able to connect the dots and see it wasn't your fault - never was, never will be.
Its a very tough lesson to learn.
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Svasti--thank you for your thoughtful comment. I really do believe that we are all given the same lessons in life . . . until we learn them. For me, that has been a long and very tough process!
Melinda
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Writing this book is a pivotal period in your own process of self-healing. I am glad you find that the experience is a profound and life-changing one. May serenity and confidence continue to be your constant, inner companions.
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And you as well, Liara (that's such a beautiful name, by the way).
Melinda
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