This is not my life story, but merely a few events that may shed some light on who I am, where I have come from, and my survival in this world. There will be graphic details of abuse, and moments of ranting. I will change some names, as this is only my story, my words and my emotions. here I go:
My name is April. I am 32 years old. My whole life I have been told to shut up and not tell anyone about my past, as it would be used against me. Now, I understand that people by nature are selfish, but I have a voice, and if I can help just one person with what I have to say, then that is my goal.
When I was 17 I watched the movie “PATCH ADAMS”. Now, the reason I mention this, is because there is a line in the movie that stuck with me these last 15 years. The line is,”My entire life men have been attracted to me…my entire life….When I was a girl I would look out my bedroom window at the caterpillars; I envied them so much. No matter what they were before, no matter what happened to them, they could just hide away and turn into these beautiful creatures that could fly away completely untouched.”.. I felt that for the first time, if it was in a movie, then I wasn’t the only one, that there were more like me. I didn’t feel better, I just felt, relieved. As I got older I gathered more information from my mother, to have a better understanding, that she too, knew how I felt. I can honestly say without prejudice, the worst feeling in the world, is having the people you love KNOW the truth, but deny your heart that acknowledgement for whatever reason. They don’t know that a simple yes, I believe you, would give a sense of closure to that past you want so desperately to forget. My mother knew, and she gave me that closure a long time ago, I used to say I wish I could have been your mother, because I would have protected you too. What you the reader need to understand is, my pain stems from myself, not the abusers. The biggest fear I have is myself. I don’t know that I can make that more understandable. I always wanted children. Always. But I was so afraid that I would be blind, or I wouldn’t be able to protect my child, that I thought for years, maybe I just shouldn’t. That probably sounds so stupid, but hopefully as I write, and you read, you will understand more.
Having stated all that emotional side of it, here are the facts. When I was 6 years old TONY BOUCHER(actual name)began molesting me. I didn’t know what he was doing, I was only 6, how would I know? It started off with duct taping my hands and feet to the bed, and mouth shut. I thought it was a game. He used to walk around in a red robe and drop stuff on the floor to make me pick it up. He would completely expose himself to me. I still didn’t understand. Around that same time, my mother began beating me. Most of this was encouraged by Tony. My mother, just obeyed. I went to stay with a family in foster care at that time, because I was acting out. It seemed everyone was unaware of Tony’s behavior. I was still 6. I liked it in Foster care. My foster mother was so nice to me. I got to call mom on Sundays after church, but when I was sent back, I was terrified. I did not want to go. I really don’t remember if anyone knew about the abuse. I don’t remember telling anyone at this time.
Not long after going back home, was I sent to live with my grandmother and her boyfriend Rueben(again actual name). I fucking HATED it. My 2 younger cousins were also living with my grandmother. You see, my grandmother was a kleptomaniac, and it was horrifying. She would make us go into stores with her, and humiliate us by screaming at us in front of the Customer service while faking lost receipts to get money back on theft-ed items. Home life wasn’t any better. For some reason, she would make me go lay in her bed with Rueben, until she was ready for bed, and at that point would put me into my own bed. Every night. I don’t know why, and I didn’t like it. He would crawl into bed and rub himself against me. He would try to get me to touch him. He would tell me(and later I found out my cousins) that grandma already knew and said it was OK. My cousins were so much different then me. I was 7, and they were younger but knew so much about sex. Things I still don’t understand. Close to the time I was sent back home, Rueben made one of my cousins and I lay in be with him, while he tried to get both of us to “touch” him. This was so frequent that it is hard to believe my grandmother did not know. We tried to tell her at that time and she laughed at us. She told me she now understands why my mom beat me, and my cousins mom gave her up. I was fucking 7 years old!
Well, around Easter I went back to live with mom. We were getting ready to move to Kalispell, Mt. At first things were really OK. Mom seemed happier and Tony was so preoccupied he left me alone. Then mom started working.
I was 8 when he began actually touching me and making me touch him. It was always right before I went to school, or at night before bedtime. He told me mom was doing this to my oldest brother, so it was OK.
I was so afraid of everyone, and so desperate to have a friend that I molded myself into the girl who tried to hard to be accepted. At 9, I did tell one of my brother’s what Tony and Rueben were doing to me. He told me he wouldn’t tell, but he did. He told my aunt, while we were visiting her that summer. She told my uncle who hated me anyway, and he told me I was a liar and my mom was going to beat me to death. I was so terrified I didn’t wanna go home. I was always accused of lying by everyone anyway, no one was going to believe me. My uncle told my mom, and she confronted me with Tony present, in front of everyone. I lied and said it didn’t happen, because my bother was shaking his head for me to say no. He was trying to protect me. So I did say no. She punched him in the face. I cry even as I write this, because I will never forget that moment. He was trying to protect me. ….breath…OK….so Tony left alone for a little while after that. I guess because it was a close encounter. He began again, this time progressing to trying to get me to perform oral sex, which I never did. He called it “giving him a treat”. I was 10 years old. My mother was always angry with me. I know they say you can never say always, but as a child, it was always. The beatings were so bad, when she was in a calm state, she would tell me to hide if I saw her in a bad mood, and to not respond to her when she called for me. I never listened. She would call me name and I would come running with a smile on my face. I don’t want to talk about the severity of the physical abuse, because my steps to mend those wounds have been taken, and my mother and I are working through all of that. On a personal note, I know now my mother loved me as a child, I also know the abuse she went through herself, and the struggles she still faces because of it. After long discussions, my understanding to the mental state she was in, is extensive, and my forgiveness has been given solely to her. She has been daily working towards planting loving seeds, hoping to erase the hateful ones. Having said that, these are still my memories and my words that can not be taken from me.
Continuing….being at home was terrifying for me. I had no one. When I turned 10, my two cousins previously mentioned, were living with us. One day, while my mother was on a trip with my aunt, for some unknown reason, the oldest cousin and myself decided to once again tell the SAME brother from before, what Tony was doing to now, both of us. This time my brother didn’t believe us. The details to which we described to him(almost word for word by the way), were unbelievable. He stated at that moment,”If you tell me what Tony’s dick looks like I will believe you”, as if on cue, my then 5 year old cousin walks in and says “Uncle Tony’s?”…and proceeds to describe it, never missing a beat. We all looked at each other is shock. For I thought it was only me he was hurting, and my cousin thought it was only her….. well, we decided to “run away”. That didn’t work out so well. We ultimately got busted, and Tony(looking back was totally afraid we would tell mom again) began bribing us with candy and games. Of course, stupid us, we went for it. We never said anything.
A little while later(time was maybe 2 months if that), my aunt showed up to confront my mom. My cousins told her everything. My mom confronted me, and this time I admitted everything. She seemed to believe me. I was so relieved. She kicked him out, and everything seemed I guess normal. Then one day we came home from school and he was there. Back. She beat me that day to make me say it wasn’t true. I caved in between blows and denied it again. He picked right back up and this time his threats to shut me up were that my mother was going to beat me to death or have a heart attack because of me. I never said a word after that. I just didn’t understand why no one believed me. Anyway, one day end of spring, on my way to school, Tony was fondling me in the truck. I was against the passenger door looking up at the sky praying to god to make it stop. Prayed so hard that I swear god himself showed up that day to save me. I was taken from class from a woman from CYS, who told be she believed me, and wanted to know exactly what he had done.
Note: I later found out that one of Tony’s previous children he had abused to the point of mental hospitalization, actually was released that day, and went straight to the police with his story. This was how I was found.
I told her everything. I was beginning to feel relief, until she started telling me that he had to have done this, and this, and this…… I didn’t understand what she was talking about. I began to feel like maybe what he did to me was not enough. She made it seem like if I didn’t admit to what she was saying he did, then I would have to go back to live with him. I was terrified of that idea, so I just agreed with the the rest of what she said. I tried to tell her what he did, she wouldn’t listen. He was arrested that day.
I tried to tell my mother what he had done to me, but the more horrible stuff seemed to be what everyone was focusing on, because it felt like that is all that mattered. She went into a denial state and began beating me more frequently. Begging and pleading with me to say it didn’t happen. This time I never did. This was one of the worst beatings I had ever taken. I can still hear my oldest brother in the background pleading with her to stop. The last thing I heard him say after she did stop, was, “momma I think shes dead”.
Shortly after he was arrested my grandmother showed up for “support”. One day at lunch, she put a recorder down on the table and asked me to tell her the details of what Rueben had done and she recorded them. At the end, she stopped the recording, shook her head, and told me if I didn’t deny what Rueben did she was no longer going to be my grandma. I got up from the table, looked her in the face and said well, I guess your not my grandma, and I went straight in and told mom. She was furious. It was strange that she believed me when I told her about Rueben, but not about Tony.
Tony plead guilty, went to prison, and died a few years ago after released. I feel not painfully enough. Rueben was never prosecuted and died several years ago, again I say, not painfully enough.
Mom moved us to Pennsylvania, then back west to Idaho and Montana. She met my step father, whom is the only father I have ever had that never laid a hand on me. He wanted only to love me as a daughter. I think my mother was trying to protect me because she didn’t want him to love me at, all for fear he would hurt me. So I never established a father relationship with anyone. The abuse grew to more humiliating forms. No one tried to stop it. The physical abuse ended at age 15, when she almost damn near killed me. After that night, she never put her hands on me again. I believe her eyes were opened even wider to what she believed possible.
So that is the background of my early life abuse. I hope this gives a little more understanding to the future blogs.