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When Fairies Fail

I suppose I'm luckier than some, but not as lucky as others.

My abuse, only happened (physically) once. But with any abuse, it lingered with me through my life, and to this day still forms the person I am. It seems no matter how hard I try to say, "it's over and done and I won't let it affect me any more." It's always there in everything I do . But as the years have past, I have learned to love and trust, to a certain degree. I am blessed with a wonderful husband, who with patience and love, slowly built my trust in him. I have 3 wonderful children, in who's innocent eyes I see what a childhood should be. What mine should have been, but wasn't. I write this only because a friend told me, to truly heal , one must speak out. So this is me- speaking out.

See, in my family incest seems to be the norm. I just want to say, it's not. It's wrong. No matter what anyone says, what excuses they put on it, it's wrong. It hurts - and the more it is hidden, the more chances it has to grow. So, I'm not hiding anymore, I am speaking out. I hope I reduce the chances of this happening to some one else , maybe just a little, just by telling my story. .

It began

The summer I turned eleven. I was to spend two weeks at my grandparents house. I came from a large family, and I was so excited to have them to myself. You, see I was my grandfather's favorite. Everyone said so, even my mother, and she didn't even like me. We would go fishing and boating. Took long walks. He even let me help build a boathouse. I loved my grandfather, and my grandmother, she was a quiet woman, who made Rice Krispie treats, and made me swallow turpentine with sugar because she thought, for sure, I had worms, because I was so thin.

So I was looking forward to it.

The first day there was an ordinary day, we played and cooked, and fished. When night came, I stood in the doorway, watching the fireflies, my Gramp came behind me, and hugged me tight, and stood behind me pointing out the fireflies, telling me - they were fairies, watching over good little children.

Gram went to bed early. Gramp and I stayed up to watch a movie, and the news. I sat on his lap, when he asked. We sat for a while but I started to feel uncomfortable with his hands around me, he was moving them, it made me feel...strange.

So I got up and sat on the couch. He fell asleep in his chair. So soon I went to bed.

Not long after, I remember him coming to my room, and sitting on my bed looking at me. He said he wanted to teach me things, he said I needed to know. Teach me what was right and wrong, and so he did.

I remember the pain and him saying not to make a sound, so I didn't. I never made a sound I just listened and felt.

I remember mostly his words, about how I was never to let any man do this ..this ..and this.. show me what I was never to do to a man....etc. It was wrong, unless I was married. It was a lesson I learned...TOO WELL.

When he left the room I cried. All night maybe, I'm not sure. I felt so bad...just bad. Gram never heard. She slept so soundly. The next morning I got up and the look in his eyes, was one of hate and disgust. I remember that look to this day. It sent a chill through me. I had loved him so, and now he hated me, I didn't know why..I didn't understand. I never said a word, until I was alone with him that afternoon in the boat. I had so many questions, but i only asked one.

I asked if I would get pregnant, he said-- I WAS a stupid child, of course not, I was too young. He said that should never tell. No one would believe me anyway. He said my mother would hate me for saying such things about her father. He was right I thought, so I never told, as far as I know she still doesn't know. At that point all of the love I had had for him turned to hate. We didn't speak again until we got back to the house. I just wanted to go home that day .I was not going to spend another night in the house with him, so I asked to go. He said no, He said they would ask why. But I was insistent. I was determined to leave, so I started to walk, He and Gram picked me up and took me home. When I got home I simply said I was home sick, I never said anything to anyone....for four years.

Four years later, when my little sister was eleven she was invited to their house for 2 weeks, mom of course said yes. Sis went to her room to pack, I followed and told her she couldn't go, she said she could, I had no right ...I said again she could not go. And then I told her why.

To my surprise, she believed me, and told them she would not go, never saying why. She was the only one I told for another eight years.

Growing up I had little interest in boys, didn't date much and when I did , I was never alone with my dates. I left home before I graduated, my mother and I never grew close, looking back on it I think it was because she never knew, never stopped it, and she still let HIM in our home. On holidays and some weekeknds they would come and make "nice" with the family. I had to sit and pretend I was happy to see him. It only served to make me more bitter and hurt. But to blame my mother for something she never knew, logically it makes no sense, but what about this makes sense anyway.

So I got my own place and had a serious boyfriend, I finally slept with him after dating for well over a year, I was 18 .He never knew, I never told him. A year later, I married him. I didn't love him, but I thought it was the right thing to do.

The marriage lasted a little over a year. I found out he was cheating on me, didn't surprise me but it was a good way out.

A year later I met another man, Was wanting to live on the danger side of life and wanted that affair that didn't mean anything, so I slept with him,.... I couldn't of course so a year later I married him, I spent two years getting beaten to a pulp, until finally one glorious day, I left. And so ended marriage number two...Finally, a few years later, I refound a good friend and we fell in love...and eventually we married. He ,after years of wondering why I was so afraid of intimacy, was the only other person I told, until now.

He was patient and kind and understanding . He was there with me when they finally buried my Gramps. I went to the wake and did not cry. I was angry. Angry at how he had changed my life...Angry at the way he had lived his life... and angry at the way he left it.(See, he had hung himself in the shed, and my Gramms found him. Such a coward , in life and in death.) I straightened his tie and looked at him closely so as to get a good view, and simply said, "My only grateful thought is knowing, you will never be forgiven for your sins., and that you will not be in heaven when Gramm gets there." I turned and left. Never looking back..

Gramm died a few months later, and nothing was ever said. She was a sweet little woman and I never blamed her. I don't think I blame my mother, but sometimes I don't know. We were never close and I often wonder if that is partly to blame, see growing up , I felt she was never there for me, so I dealt with life on my own, I didn't need her and she resented that.

I spent years trying to live with Gramps rules.. It ruled my life, and my life was hell. Learning to trust, men...understanding even what real love was. Finally realizing I didn't do anything wrong, and that it wasn't my fault. I had nothing to be ashamed of, I am a good person.

I write this to say you are not the only one. There is a life that is worthy of you, if you can trust yourself enough to find it.

I can't imagine what kind of person I would have grown to be, had Gramp not taken my childhood away from me. It is a person who , now will never be. Isn't that the same as murder? I believe it to be.His betrayel and abuse deprived me of becoming the person I was meant to be. Who that was I will never know, thanks to him.

Atleast I can say, now, that I like the person I am...no matter how I got this way. Isn't that we all strive for? To like that person in the mirror? I'm glad I can finally say yes.

My hope is that, if you can't right now.........
Someday you will ......

Sincerely,
Rose

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