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Letters to my brothers


nancyannee

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From my earliest memory I wondered if I really belonged within my family. Learning I was adopted didn't make me feel lucky, it made me feel worry. Where did I come from? Why did my birthmother give me away? as children do, I figured it must have been some flaw in me. I knew I would have to work hard to show I wanted to belong. How does a young child show that? by not crying, not getting upset or angry. always wanting to help out and be a part of things. always wanting to be involved.

By the time I was 10, I was molested. As a young girl, unsure of my place, always questioning my right to be there. Always wondering where I came from. Would I have to leave? Would someone come and take me away? Maybe I didn't belong after all...

Something happened to me in the woods. The specifics I don't remember. What I do remember was coming home without my panties on being terrified of the boys from the woods. I remember 3 older boys...not what they did, but I will never forget the feelings of terror. Looking out our den window. just knowing that any minute they were coming to get me. I actually remember thinking I was going to die....I was so busy trying to "fit in" and belong, that I could not tell anybody.

Whatever happened that day changed me. I may never remember exactly what happened, but I will never forget the terror and humiliation. And how very alone I was...

Craving attention-the only company I had was Neal. and all his friends...all 4 to 5 years older than me. By the time I was 12, 2 of them molested me. I felt dirty, guilty, shameful and at the same time I craved the attention. At church the older boys honed in on me. The molestations continued....at home and at church. Of course at the time I thought I was making a conscience decision. I believed it was my choice to participate. It wasn't until my own girls reached the age or 10-12 did I realize how tender and immature that age really is....

When I hit high school, I was a full blown alcoholic. I stayed high and drunk more often than not during my teenage years. Craving attention attention from brothers but finding with other older boys...Granted by this time I was probably pretty nasty to all of you, but I was still your sister.

When I became pregnant at 17, I obviously needed and desperately wanted your love and support and guidance. Did I get it? Nope. Not only did I not get it, you left our Mother to handle everything alone. I should have made the decision to put that baby up for adoption with my whole family rallying around. I made the right choice for all the wrong reasons...When I came home from the hospital, with only Mama for support. She needed her family too. I will NEVER forget that Christmas, sitting alone with Mama eating dinner at Red Lobster...everyone gathered at Jimmy and Kathy;s...everyone but me and Mama...

Unable to process the grief, anger, and sadness yet again I set out to destroy myself. I couldn't tell you guys I was hurt and angry. I have never been able to express myself to you without worrying what you thought of me. It always sounded like I was casting blame and fault. Mama was left all alone with me during that crisis...for good or bad, some part of me decided I would never leave her alone again....Now she is gone.

It wasn't until I was about 26 that I even remembered the incident in the woods. The feelings of terror and being so alone returned with the fragmented memory of that time. I really began to examine my childhood to gather those lost memories. I never wanted for anything material. All I wanted was for my family...my brothers...to love and accept me.

I take full responsibility for my older years, I know I was hard to be around. I made things difficult. It is the years as a young girl, alone and unsure. the little girl in me for years wanted, craved your approval and attention...good or bad.

I have never felt good enough for anyone or anything. How could I be good enough for anyone else, if my own family didn't care enough to be there? I am over asking why. I have to believe it is some flaw in you, as to why you choose to not be a part of my life....

fast forward...here I am 42 years old. still caring what you guys think. still feeling incomplete. still looking for flaws within me. Not believing the flaws are yours.

I gave everything I had to take care of Mama. I wish I had more to give. I wish I could have made her life easier. Knowing how you stayed away from Mama. Not calling, not coming to see her. Not only do I have the guilt of her dying. but I have to ask...did you abandon her because I was around? did you stay away from her because she loved me?

I will never know. because you will never really read this. and I will never ask............

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