Where to start. Ahh yes the beginning. Chapter 1

Hello welcome to my new blog. My name is Kristal. I am from the US of the great land of America. That is a whole other blog concerning my country. I am 34 years young, and I love telling stories. But the story that I will be writing about here is my own. Here is my why I am writing my story.

I am writing this story because of the things I have been through. I feel that it needs to be told because someone out there may come to this page and see that they are not alone. My story like so many others; it has ups, downs and plenty of loop de loops. Plenty of laughs and WTF moments. 

My story matters and so does yours. If one thing comes out of this vulnerability of myself that I am exposing is helping someone; then my story has made a difference. It will all be done without violence, riots, war, hate and all things that are bad. If anything it’s from those sorts of things that has made my story a successful one. Shall we get started? I think yes.

My story starts really from the time that I was brought into this world. I was three weeks late and my mom will gladly tell you how relieved she was. I was born to my mom and dad and brought into this world with so much already on my shoulders.

My parents were not happy in their marriage and there were all sorts of curses set before I was even born. ( curses= something I will bring up later) According to my mom my father denied me from before I was even born and would be later used as tool to hurt her. So from the get go my very existence was being used as way to hurt and heal. My father was abusive to my mom. My mom was a fighter. They hurt each other in their own ways.

Before I was born my mom had my sister from a previous marriage, and my father had my two older brothers also from a previous marriage. Then there was me. Born into a family that was just made of my father and mother, and three half siblings. My father was not kind to my sister. And my mom tried to forge a relationship with my two older brothers. She also tried to engage in a relationship with their mother for the sake of all of their children. There are plenty of blended families now, but back then it was more a taboo thing to do. Needless to say that didn’t work out. Eventually, my little family was split too.

As a child I was always so independent. I had my own way of thinking about life. I talked all the time! My first words were shut up for crying out loud. Already in my young life, I was kidnapped by my father, used as a tool to hurt my mom. These are memories I don’t remember. I remember being kidnapped by my father.haha

I was two maybe when that happened. I know what you are going to say. How can I remember something like that at that age. Well one word. It was a traumatic experience. Although it wasn’t violent in any way. He is my father. I love him. But I remember him picking me up at my mom’s house and leaving. Next thing I know I am in California with my dad and my grandparents. Heres why I remember it the most. My father sat me on the their counters, the phone rings, my Granny handed me a banana. I love bananas!! Then I remember my dad yelling over the phone and my grandparents comforting me and then being asked to talk to momma on the phone. That is the end of that memory.

I was later returned because my dad “didn’t want to buy or support me on his own.” That was according to my mom. My father didn’t deny this fact. My mom also told my dad over the phone that since he took me that he needs to be responsible for me. That scared my dad. My dad at the time had issues with any kind of commitment. That included his now three children. Basically my said, keep her, and he brought me back that weekend. I laugh about that now because that was so my dad and mom. But I was still used a tool. I just wanted to be loved, nurtured and cared for.

Some time passes and it was just my mom, sister and me. I annoyed my sister, my favored me because I was the baby. I really didn’t see my mom a whole lot. It was really me and sister. Then mom got pregnant with my brother. I was five years old when my baby brother came into this world. My whole life changed from that moment on.

The day that my baby brother was born, I was brought into the room where my mom just gave birth. I walked over, I look down to see this baby. A boy? ugh!!! I wanted a sister. Everyone was so joyous and I flat-out said,” I don’t want him.” I walked out of that room so cold-hearted . I remember walking into the hallway and my now ten-year old sister is telling that I hurt moms feelings. In my heart I didn’t care. I wanted a sister. I went back in to be with everyone because I had too.

I had to share everything with him. My room, my mom, and my sister. Don’t get me wrong  the kid grew on me. My mom let me be around him but he took so much from me. I think back now and I think I resented him. I wanted to love on him. He was the cutest baby I have ever seen. My mom let me hold him, and I was walking around him and I dropped him! I didn’t mean too!! But no one saw it that way. They thought I did it on purpose. So I wasn’t allowed to hold him anymore, but I saw a different side of mom. She hated me. That is how it felt anyway.

Like I said from the time of his birth my whole life changed. Anytime my baby brother cried she was mad at me. Even if I had nothing to do with it. My sister was my only safe place, even though she too turned her back on me. I was alone now. By this point my sister is going with her dad every other weekend. That meant that I was stuck with my mom without my safe place. I mean at this point I just think that my mom hates me, but I was not afraid of her. I didn’t have a reason to.

Sister left as usual with her father, and I was sad. I remember staying at the front door for a while after she would leave. I was alone. Sad and alone. I mean I was potty trained by a babysitter. I didn’t like that babysitter.

Here is why. One day she tells us ( all the kid she was watching) that she was leaving to the store and that her son will be watching us. Finally she says we are not to move and to go to sleep. It was nap time. Me and another girl were paired up on the aqua leather couch. I see her son talking to another girl, she goes into his room. Then some time later she come out. Then the girl, I actually think it was my sister, told me that he wanted to see me.

I get up and go into his room. He ushered me in and closed the door. He asked me to pick out a toy from his bed. I picked a book. He turned me around and told me to read the book. I didn’t know how to read but I sure depicted a great story from the pictures I saw. As I was flipping through the book telling my story he told me he was going to pull my panties down and I might feel something warm. He put his penis in between my legs against my vagina until he had his orgasm. I sure did feel something warm running down my legs. He got a wet cloth and cleaned me off. He pulled my panties back up , he turned me around and closed my book that I was still “reading” and told me to NEVER tell anyone. He fixed my white dress and told me to go take my nap and never to talk about it again. To be honest when this all went down. I thought he peed on me! Just as gross. Yuck!! I didn’t know what I do now. 

When I walked out. My sister had asked me what he said. I told her I wasn’t allowed to say, and did what I was told to do. I hated going there. At some point we switched babysitters. Still to this day, if I happened to be going past that house that is the only memory I have of that place. I didn’t tell anyone for a long time. 

I also remember going to a doctor around that same age, and the doctor doing almost the same thing. He asked my mom to leave the room, he turned off the lights and felt around in my panties. Moments past and he was all done. That is what he told my mom. At this point I am thinking that this is normal. Men = private place touchers. I did tell my mom and she told me that it didn’t happen. I was confused because it did happen. So it starts with my mom.

I think that is enough for today. I leave you with this. If you are reading this, just know that my story at this point only beginning. There is a lot of emotions that are coming. A lot of things that are hard to envision happening. But the truth is, that these happens all the time, and not many people talk about it. Or bring it out into light. I am talking about it because it needs to be said. But to also let you know that there is hope and salvation.

 

 

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Author: Krissy

I enjoy telling stories. I enjoy writing. It has always been my passion. I love that I get to share with you. Comments are always welcomed.

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