When telling the part of the tale where he and I were sequestered in the bedroom of my 8 year old self, playing that ridiculous combination of Strip Poker, Heads or Tails, and Truth or Dare, I remember something he said to me at a crucial moment. When I began losing the game, I had to remove my nightgown. When I was bare-chested in front of him, I got shy, and covered myself. It gets really blurry and uncomfortable here. I just remember the words, "It's ok. We're family now. This is what families do when they love each other." I'm sorry, but it's really cloudy and frustrating. The next memories are of me sitting across the room from him, naked on the floor, crying. I remember those emotions, continuing to feel self-conscious, and not good enough, or pretty enough. Feeling like he didn't want me, and then when he left the room, how I felt so defeated and worthless. It was very confusing.
Life after that became a blur. I don't remember very much at all. I imagine nothing much was different from day to day. He'd make his lewd comments here and there, tease, and half-heartedly flirt about inappropriate subjects. Mama was completely indifferent. I didn't feel very close to her at that time in my life. Then before I know it, it was Christmas and my grandparents had come down to celebrate at home, and then we'd 3 go back to the rental house in Shreveport where granddaddy was working. I'd start at my new school after New Years.
I was 9 years old now. I was also a sexual being, and was developing rapidly into a young woman. I wasn't very fond of the new school, but I'd made a few friends. One of them was the girl who lived across the street. I remember I had sort of a friend/crush on her. We were inseparable at home, but she was in a higher grade than me. She was 10. She played the piano, the violin, and lived with her grandparents like me. She also visited with her mom on the weekends. We were besties. I'll tell her story at a later date. She never hurt me, but I hurt her, and it's something I'm sorry for.
I have to finish with my stepfather's portion of the story. There isn't very much to tell now. When the folks and me were in Shreveport, there was only one event that stands out in my memory. Something the neighbors verified. At some point, during one of the really heated arguments that went on in that house while we were gone, one night the man carried the television outside on the front lawn and shot it with a shotgun. BOOM! I have no idea what they were fighting over, but it was over right there. I don't know what the fallout from that was, but I don't remember being aware of it until I was grown, and hearing stories.
When we moved back to Gonzales, LA. That's a small town just South of Baton Rouge, I was 10 years old, and starting the school year in the 5th grade. I was growing up. I re-entered the same school I'd been in most of my life. We moved twice while we lived in Louisiana, once to West Virginia for a year, and to Shreveport, the other.
My mom and stepdad had moved into a trailer together. Both his parents, and my grandparents went in together to buy them the property that it was on. It was really nice, and had some land that also had trails into the woods that I liked to walk on when I visited. I enjoyed my times there. It was in the same trailer park as that little house was in. It was like a subdivision, but had trailers, houses, and modified trailer houses. Haha The neighborhood was called Trailer Land.
I had good times there, even with him. He had a weight bench out back, and he taught me how to use it. I wanted to be strong. I spent a lot of time out there, building strength in my arms and legs. I worked out a lot then. I was around 200 lbs when I was 14, fairly solid. I had wide hips and thick thighs, a round little tummy, broad shoulders, and a booty to die for. I had nice boobs too. I like to show my cleavage, wear the tightest jeans ever, docs, and flannel over tank tops, or tube tops. I liked to wear my granddaddy's overcoats sometimes, or an old Army jacket I swiped from my mom. It had a rusty bullet hole in it, and I thought it was the coolest shit ever.
My stepfather grew the best weed. People came over all the time when I visited my mom. The step dad was real proud of his stash. He even showed me where he stored it after a harvest one time. It was probably about 10 plants worth. It looked like a LOT. I remember being around weed as I was growing up. My grandparents were boozers.
Randy, I'll just say it now cause I'm tired of the "stepdaddy" bit, was a mean, scary drunk. He held his shit together really good. He just got verbally abusive. He was smart too, so when he'd say stuff, he somehow knew just what to say to make you feel uncomfortable. He was actually endearing in other ways, and would make you love him. His intelligence and wit were easy, and you'd laugh even if you didn't think you should. I loved him, and I'm as sorry for him as I am for me, that this whole situation ever occurred between us. I know it fucked with him for years afterward. I'll never know how he felt about it though, as I never got to have that adult conversation with him before he was gone.
One day, when I was 14, my mom was working or something, and I was home alone with Randy. I was wearing my usual tight fitting clothes, a good bra. I looked hot. I can't blame him for getting worked up. We were watching an R rated movie, and there were boobs on the screen, giving him every opportunity to say something rude. We were sitting together on the couch, cuddling, father daughter style. It was nice, and I didn't think it was gross or anything. Then damn it if that fucker didn't have to go and fuck it up, and grab my boob. He gave it a squeeze, and I shoved him off, cussed him out, and stormed off. No fucking way.
After that event, he got a lot meaner, and more direct with some of the comments he'd make. He said something about a blow job one day, and mama told him something about it. He said I probably gave plenty of them already. I was technically still a virgin. I'd never been with a man, nor seen a penis up close and personal yet. I did know how to give a blow job, as I'd read plenty about them, and even practiced some. I would never have told him though.
I was in a frenzy after that. All I thought about was sex, and I was gonna get laid or die trying. After I did the deed, another story, things changed a lot for me. I started going with whoever wanted to. After I had the first guy I dated seriously visit at mom's trailer, Randy started leaving me alone, more and more. I guess the fact that I was sexually active now was too much for him to handle. He was still a nasty bastard. I didn't even like to bring my girlfriends over, cause he was embarrassing sometimes. I still did though, because it was cool over there. Mom even let us have beer on special occasions.
Sometime in this year span, or the next, they get married. It was a small ceremony with a Justice of the Peace, and a few witnesses. I was there, and there was a party after. A few years after that, I guess shit went South between them two, and she's splitsville after draining half of the joint checking account. He was in Africa at the time, working. He had a career change, from Construction work, to Engineering, and was doing something over in Kenya. He'd been there nearly a year making really good money. Mama was making decent money at Waffle House. She loved that job. She'd had many careers over the years, in the Construction field as well, Medical, Corrections, but she loved being a Bartender, or Waitress the best. I guess she preferred the type of people you meet in those jobs, vs the others. lol
I think I was 16 when mama moved away. I was a mess by then. I'd spent a few months in a mental hospital when I was 15. I guess I'd had a nice little breakdown just after I became a "real" woman. I had such notions. It probably had to do with all the misogynistic, controlling men in my life, and my Nanny's meek and mild way of compliance, maybe my mama's way of taking a hit, and running back. I don't know. It's no wonder I've followed similar paths in my life, and fallen into the same traps. Or why I've set traps for myself in life, and fallen right into them. I'm in a self-imposed prison right now, and I have to really think hard, and make extensive life changes before I can realistically imagine releasing myself from it as well. It's fucking booby trapped all over the place too. Cryptic message is cryptic.
So he comes back from Africa and I have no contact with him at all. We're finished as stepfather and stepdaughter. I don't even hear anything from my little step sister. I don't hear from either of them until my mother's funeral many years later. It was Feb, 1994. My grandmother was just buried the month before, and my mother had an aneurysm explode during the stressful time afterward. She was trying to move back home from the Virgin Islands where she'd been living. She didn't make it. I lost both my mother, and grandmother in the beginning of 1994.
That was some pretty brutal shit right there. I hadn't had much contact with my mom over the years since she left Randy. She came back briefly after I got married at 18 to that ex-convict. She'd taken up with a fella, and they moved to St. Croix together for a job he had, after a few months of living together. She was planning on going back to Randy though. In November of 1993, she came up to visit for Thanksgiving. The week after, her and him went to Mexico together for a few days, and had a real nice time. I guess when she came back to help me take care of my granddaddy, she was planning on a reconciliation.
After the funeral, he lost his shit. He supposedly got drunk and took a bunch of pills. Then he went back to the trailer he shared with her, and set it on fire. He took off for a few days, and then went back and burned it to the ground. A few days after that, his truck was found at the Atlanta International Airport, where people discovered he'd gone back to Africa. He taught me what Hakuna Matata meant way before The Lion King did. They called him a big mazungo over there. I'd like to think he went back over there to start a new life, but I doubt that's what happened to him. His family sent private investigators to look for him. Nobody ever found him, not even a piece. He effectively disappeared off the face of the earth at that point. They even had him declared dead a few years later. That was the end of that.
I'd spent some of that time in the mental health hospital at 15 years old, getting out some of the emotions I felt about what had happened to me at the hands of my stepfather. I didn't get it all out though. I never got to the bottom of why I couldn't get past it. I blamed myself. I judged myself. I hated myself for my part in it. If I wouldn't have been a naughty girl, maybe it never would have happened. Maybe if I would have been good enough, or worthy of his "love", he wouldn't have rejected me. I was so wrong to hate myself for these things. I release myself from these negative self-loathing thoughts. I release myself from responsibility. I was a child. I should never have been in the situation to begin with. I forgive myself. I forgive myself for everything to do with any of this. I am ready to move on with my life.
That's exactly what I'm doing. Moving on now. I may take a break for a few more days now. I hope the next thing that crosses my mind is something easier to share, and more positive. Even if its sexual, potentially underage and inappropriate, at least I can hope it will be a happy event, instead of something so painful. Haha
I have to talk matter-of-factly about these topics. I have to look at them as clinically as possible. I want to analyze my feelings about my feelings here, and really get to the bottom of things. I will continue to release the negative emotions, taking back the pieces of me that I feel I have lost, and I will do it non-judgmentally, and as safely, and sanely as possible. I will forgive, and I will forget.
Thanks for reading, and sharing these difficult events with me. I appreciate it so much. If anyone has anything to share, or a question, or comment, please feel free. I'm an open book, and a good listener.
Love to all and many CandyKisses
<3
xoxo
Not anymore.
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