From Shame to Victory (Part 2): The Abuse Started in Adolescence

Rhonda’s Story

My dad had a workshop in the basement where he had pin up girls on the wall. He had playboy and Penthouse magazines in the cupboard that my brother and his friends would look at.

Around the time I was between 8-10, I walked down the stairs and found my dad watching a pornographic movie while having a meal. I was horrified. My father was so disrespectful to women and he constantly joked in a demeaning way in front of my mom and other women.

Dad would drink every day. And every Friday night he cashed his check and came home with his weekend alcohol supply. Dad would always be in a good mood. He would take a shower and his friends would start rolling in. He always smelled so good. In the beginning, it was exciting for me to see who would stop by; I liked having company. But as the weekend parties continued it became evident that my dad’s friends wanted to do inappropriate things to me.

My mom would usually stay upstairs and lose herself in her books, trying to ignore everything around her. I would hang downstairs trying to get my dad’s attention over his friends and his drinking. When I was between 8 and 9, I recall one of his friends pinning me down, laughing and holding my arms down while he tried to kiss me. I was kicking and screaming, telling him to stop as my parents watched. I couldn’t believe they weren’t helping me! Felling vulnerable, I spent many years pushing the bed across my bedroom door, afraid someone would come and hurt me. Because of my parents’ and my brother’s behavior towards me, I learned that I had no value. My mom never wanted me and I wasn’t worth being protected by my dad; I felt so unloved.

During middle school, my brother and I always came home to an empty house. The two neighbor boys would come over and try and kiss me, pin me down and they would force me to do inappropriate things with them. I was told not to tell or I would get beat up. I never told.

So, I would race home, grab all the hangers and pens in the house (my brother could open the door with a metal hanger or the ink stick of the pen), lock the bathroom door before by brother got home so he couldn’t beat me up. I would wait in fear as he banged on the door telling me to open it. Eventually he always found a way in. I would run through the house and try to get away as he threw knives at me. If I made it back to the bathroom the knives would be stuck in the door. He would beat me up! I didn’t tell because nobody stopped the other bad things that were happening to me. My mother always justified and made excuses for my brother’s behavior because he was her favorite; my dad was hard on my brother; I was dad’s favorite so I got the brunt of that from my mother.

 

PART 3 Click Here.

 

From Shame to Victory (Part 1): My Broken Childhood

Rhonda’s Story

When I was a kid, I remember being happy, wanting to understand why everything was the way it was, full of curiosity and questions. I loved playing outside, I loved my brother and I loved animals. I loved Sunday fishing, car rides and visiting family. I had a vivid imagination that helped me to escape from the reality of my dysfunctional childhood.

My parents had been dating for a while, and then they eloped. My dad decided he wanted to see Sault Ste. Marie. My mom wanted to go, so they got married. They never made it there; they stopped short in North Bay and rented a place. Dad got a job and along came my brother. Mom’s pregnancy was difficult, and she was told not to have any more kids. My Dad refused to have one child, so two and a half years later with much resentment from my mother, I was born; she and I never bonded.

I remember being afraid of my mother when I was young as she was angry a lot. She told me she had me because my father made her and that she never wanted me. I felt like I was a burden, an inconvenience. I understand now that she was angry about her life and her inability to speak up for herself.

When I was about five, my mom was in the living room crying. I asked her what was the matter, and she looked at me and said my dad had slept with his boss’s sister, he may lose his job and she didn’t know if she was going to stay married to him. I remember being scared, not really understanding and thinking I did something wrong to cause this.

 

Part 2 Click Here.