Chapter Three: Teen Years

This is a subject that is very private and difficult for me.  This is where I made the most mistakes.  We now know that the teenage brain is not fully developed until into his or her twenties, but back then, it was just plain, old rebellion and risk-taking.

As I mentioned earlier, I grew up without a lot of supervision.  In my teen years, Mom worked a split-shift at the telephone company, so no one was home when we got home from school.  Dad stayed up in the cities with my aunt and uncle so he didn't have to drive back and forth to his job in Minneapolis.  I made supper and cleaned up after, all the while trying to avoid any physical attacks from my brother. I was also responsible for taking care of my younger brothers and sister.  Even when Mom came home, she never believed any of the stories we told her about the abuses we suffered.

I didn't date.  I associated attention from boys my age and older (my brother's friends) as love, even if it was for a short period of time.  It became a game for me after awhile.  I would get someone to "love" me, then I would drop them without a word of explanation.  I wanted someone to care for me, but didn't really know what to do with the attention I did get.  The sexual abuse from several relatives continued as well (I will not name them because it serves no purpose and I have forgiven them.) and I felt really alone and worthless.

At school, things were worse.  I really felt invisible there and barely spoke up.  I had a few friends, but they weren't in my grade.  The "popular" girls I had been friends with in grade school barely looked my way anymore and it was torturous to try to make new friends.  I stayed home from school a lot, even though I was getting good grades.  I couldn't stand being ignored there, too.  At least at home, I could hide myself away and be alone for a little while.  It got so bad, my mom arranged for me to live with my aunt and her partner in Columbia Heights, MN.  I'm not sure what the purpose of that was.

I was enrolled in a huge school where I knew absolutely no one.  I couldn't bear to sit alone at lunch time, so would bring my lunch to my locker and sit on the floor and eat.  My aunt bought me all kinds of clothes and things to make me feel at home, but that didn't work, either.  The minute I turned 16, I quit school and went back home.

Well, not really home.  I stayed at my aunt and uncle's house in Faribault for awhile.  That was the worst thing I could have done in a lot of ways.  I love my aunt, but there were problems I don't care to share.  I ended up finding an apartment on my own.  Yes, I lived alone at 16.  I lied about my age and I had a good job, so thought it would be the perfect thing to do.  If it wasn't for the goodness of some of my aunt's friends, I would have starved to death.  I didn't know how to manage my money.  Basically, I paid my rent and blew the rest. 

Enough for now.  It's not all that easy to bring all this up and write about.  I'm purging so I can resolve things with my daughter.  Maybe someday she'll understand me a little better.  I don't consider myself a victim, but I certainly had many reasons to become one.