I am now a grown women, I have children, and although I look motherhood it has made me question my own childhood. I was sexually abused my mother, yes, my own mother.
My mum knew I was being abused by her boyfriends too and did nothing to protect me.
Let me start by saying I DO NOT want sympathy I just want you to know that despite our pasts, life is what you make it.
I hope by sharing my story, anyone struggling to live life after rape sees that we can learn to lead to a very normal and happy life.
My whole life has been a complete mess, from the age of 3 or 4.
I only have memories of a drunk mother, a father that was never there and me raising my younger siblings, changing feeding and caring for them.
Life was very unsettled I moved around a lot.
Many men were in and out of my life throughout my childhood.
It was only when I was 7 I discovered who my real father was when I was taken to the local bus station and was asked to go tree climbing with this stranger.
I was sexually abused by my mother and her partners for many years
I was always an inconvenience to her.
I was always last on her list, and also her career.
I wasn’t allowed a life of my own, by school-leaving age I still had no friends or no loving family, no stability.
I was sad and lonely and had nothing in life to be positive about.
I had been passed from pillar to post, attended 29 different schools.
I was emotionally physically and I have to dare to be brave enough to admit it, that I was sexually abused by my mother and her partners.
I will never ever be able to understand why she did this to me.
Her own flesh and blood.
I have questioned it over and over, time and time again but I have no answers and the truth is I never will.
But over the years of me not wanting kids but being raped by my boyfriend at the time, I had my son. That relationship was hell on earth.
I made my baby just one promise, to love him forever.
Despite my past I refuse to let it affect my future, I am determined to be the best mum I can be to all four children in my home (2 aren’t mine).
Yes admittedly because of my mental health I struggle but I am doing my hardest to insure they know they are loved and wanted and that their lives are worlds away from my own painful one.
I was sexually abused by my mother her own little girl and when I look into the eyes of my own children, how can I not be hurt and confused.
Why would a mother ever do that to her own baby?
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