Both my mother and my stepdad were awful. The things I’ve found out that my mother did when I was tiny like at 2 weeks old she put me in a cot in a different room and slept with ear plugs in. Cos she was tired. Was furious when Social services were called by the neighbours. Anyhow. She was a selfish woman with no normal maternal instincts who only had me so she could claim I was her ex boyfriend’s baby and use me to control him. I only found out who my dad was in my early forties!
My stepdad was a mean, nasty, volatile drunk who moved in with us after my mum knowing him for 2 weeks. He was vindictive and hated women. And a racist (possibly he amped this up as he would have known my wider family were mixed race, although I was totally unaware).
He got rather creepy and tactile as I hit puberty. Typing that makes me want to puke.
When I met my husband and began trying for a baby I realised no amount of contact with them could ever be safe for my baby, or me. So I told them why, and told them to go fuck themselves. I got the same back, with some additional mention of how well the lad who molested me was doing in his job (thanks) and taking the piss out of my ‘eating’ habits when I was an anorexic teen.
Now he’s died. His son has disowned him ( he stopped having contact with the poor lad as a toddler, with my mother’s encouragement) so I’ve been informing members of his family that I can find (good old Facebook).
Now my feed is full of ‘RIP uncle X, what a top bloke’ and ‘so many good times with X, great guy’ and I want to scream you don’t know, he made my life a misery, I was terrified of him and what he might do and slept with a chair wedged under my door handle after he asked if I wanted to look at porn with him.
I’m glad he’s dead.
I know that makes me a bad, broken person, but that’s who I am today.
Well done if you got this far! Don’t even really know what I’m asking.