If you haven’t read My step mom blocked my Facebook (1) you will need to read that at this time! Please click the link and check it out before continuing.
One of the other events that comes to my mind about my step mom was after my mother died. I had experienced the death of my mother at the age of fourteen and I was having a hard time coming to terms with her death as any child would. During that period I would mostly spend my time sitting outside reading or playing piano, and I would take my books outside and find a spot to sit and read. One time in particular I came back inside from being out for a while and I noticed that several of the photo’s I had of my mother (On a cork board in my room) had been vandalized. What I mean by this, is that someone had taken a push pin and stabbed holes in every single one of the pictures I had of my mother. Not only were there holes all over these pictures, but the holes were in the place of where her eyes used to be.
“We wonder about our lives not knowing what is buried beneath the surface of a smiling face.”
So a recap on this situation was that I came in and saw that every photo I owned of my mother had little pin holes through every one of her eyes. I was heart broken. My eyes began to water and my heart sank deep into my stomach. How could anyone do this to photos of a dead person? I understand that you may have disliked the person, but no one has the right to do that to a child who is grieving. This event occurred only a month after she died. I still never have gotten a conformation that this was in fact my step mother who did this, but I couldn’t imagine anyone else having any kind of motivation to do that. The only other person who may have done it would have been my step brother, but more about him on another post.
I often wonder how people can be as destructive as they are. We wonder about our lives not knowing what is buried beneath the surface of a smiling face. My vision of my step mom is clearly different than the sight that she puts off at church. She is one of those people who will go to church on Sunday with a smile as big as you’ve ever seen, and bold faced lie to people. I don’t mean lie as in saying false things to strangers, I mean lie as the way she presents herself. She carries herself very righteously in the midst of members of the congregation. I remember thinking how strange it was for her to do that. It wasn’t something only I noticed, our entire family often made jokes about it behind her back.
We changed locations a few different times when I was growing up. The first place I lived was in a town called Rush Springs, and it still might be the smallest town I’ve ever been in. My step mom was a teacher there after my dad gained custody of me. I sometimes think she intended for that to happen so that she could control me. The teachers quickly became her friends, thus more hawks to watch me through my day. I was constantly being monitored and I was aware of every person who made a point to stare at me. I remember feeling exposed and alone at the same time. Each time I did something at school that was out of the ordinary, my step mom would get a report, and each time a report was received I got sent to the principal’s office for swats. I ended up going to the principal’s office multiple times a week for at least 3 years. I’m not prepared to tell you how many times that I was struck not only from my step mom, but those who she instructed to do it too.
After sixth grade or so the swats stopped, and I believe my principal at the time may have halted the behavior. I ended up with a lot of detention though. I’m fairly certain that the detention was to keep me away from talking and having a good time with my friends in the mornings before school. I didn’t have a whole lot of time outside of school spent with people other than my family because my parents were strange about having company and sending us to our friend’s houses. I imagine my step mom found it harder to control me if she sent me away to visit other people. My point in all of this was the influence she had on people in my life. She influenced my teachers to watch me, and forced my principals to spank me. I was always aware of what I was doing. I didn’t want any of my actions to be portrayed as negative.
I’m not writing to ask all of you to hate this human being. I am writing to bring light to a situation that is a lot more common than people think. Tales of torture spoken from the lips of a child, and no one dared to save her. Granted, there were few who believed me when I told them how she behaved while we were alone. There was a time in particular that I went to church camp and we had a prayer circle. I told my counselors what I had been experiencing at home, and they decided to take it upon themselves to call her and ask about it. This only made things worse for me at home.
When you walk into a room, how do people perceive you? What is the vibe that you’re putting off, and is it true to who you really are?
Part 3 coming soon.