Category Archives: Childhood memories
As my kids start the school year that now starts in summer instead of fall I am reminded of my school days. I was a Girl of Fall.
I was a cheerleader in middle school and in the drum and bugle corp in high school. 20 years since I have been in high school and I can still hear the crowds and smell the smells.
Climbing on top of the pyramid because I was the tiniest girl. (barely 80 pounds).
The ache in my calf after hours of marching practice. Hearing the crowd clap as we march off the field. Most likely glad because we were getting off the field.
My freshman year I marched in the Fiesta parade that no one was prepared for how long it would be. It was so hot too!! Gotta love south Texas in the summer! I can still hear the giggles from a group of 30 girls. Going to the Magic Time machine restaurant and having the Orgy meal. I had no clue what an “orgy” even was at 15!! The older girls that new got a kick out of laughing at us.
I live in small town Texas. High school football is our way of life. Those boys and girls of fall work hard for what they do. It will only be a fleeting memory in a matter of a few short years. Help them make the best of it. If you can, go out and support your local high school team! BUY at the snack stand, that money goes to the booster club.
Enjoy the hard work of your local Boys and Girls of Fall.
I left an abusive home when I was 17. I did not end up like Fancy, but the song came out right after I left home (talk about dating myself!)
I was 10 years old and my parents and I went to Florida for vacation. We went to Circus World and I got painted up as a clown. We had already been to Disney World so I was wearing my Mickey Mouse Ears too.
I remember scrubbing my face so hard that night in the hotel room to get the make-up off that I scrubbed my face raw.
I have this cup still!! I cried when my mother put it in the dishwasher (which we were told NOT to do!) because it made bubbles on the picture. I don’t use the cup anymore of course. It is over 20 years old!! My kids get a kick out seeing me in clown make-up.
When I started this bit on my childhood memories someone asked me how I got over it, so I thought that would make a good (semi) final post on the subject. I say SEMI because for now I am putting these post to a rest. If something pops in my head I will post it, but I am not going to try to make it a regular part of my blogging.
I can’t say I am healed to be honest. I did see several counselors through the years, and I seem to have baffled each one. They all released me saying I was fine and surprised that I could go on like I do.
What IS healing?
Forgetting? Nope haven’t done that..
Forgiving? Not too sure if I have or haven’t…
Letting go? That I have mostly done
Stop Crying over it? I never cried over it to begin with
Moving On? How else can one survive?
I have moved on. YES it happened.. It happened to ME.. I couldn’t stop it, I was a child and my life was not my own in anyway. I don’t hate the abusers. I also am not sad that one killed himself either.
So to answer the question:
How Did I Heal?
I picked myself up and with a step at a time I moved forward and made my own life.
6 to 8yrs, Texas
After my adopted parents picked me up in Arkansas they started trying to adopt me. They were not family and the attorney told them they had no chance of being able to adopt me. This was a private adoption against the birth mother’s will. TOTALLY unheard of in Texas.
My bio-mom did sign a paper that signed her rights away. She has told me since then, when I was an adult, that she was told the paper would allow them to take care of me and she didn’t realize it was relinquishing her parental rights.
My adoptive parents had witnesses of the physical and mental state I was in when I came back from Arkansas that stood up in court for my adoptive parents, and against my bio-mom.
The abuse from my adoptive father had already started.
I had my own “advocate” that talked to me for less than 10 minutes to find out my wishes when I was 8 years old and the final day of the adoption hearing process. The advocate asked me if I wanted my adoptive parents to adopt me. I did say yes and he asked why. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I am sure it had to do with not being left with other people and not being abused. My bio-mom never hit me, but I can’t say I was never abused by the families and people she left me with. Yes, I knew what my adoptive father was doing was not right. At 8 I knew the difference of the lesser of two evils.
I also had to talk to the judge and ask to be adopted. The judge was very nice and I remember him giving me a small toy to play with while he talked to me. Basically I told him the same thing, that I wanted to live with my adoptive parents. I was already calling them Mom and Dad.
The adoption was granted that day. I vividly remember turning around in the back seat of the car watching my bio-mom walk from the county court house crying. I was crying a bit too. I knew at 8 that I was better off but I still would always miss my bio-mom knowing I chose a better life.
Now days my adoption would NEVER have happened, at least not with the parents that adopted me. Now there are background checks and counseling as a part of the process. My parents would not have passed the checks. My adopted mother had a history of mental illness and my adopted father had other children and did not pay child support.
I hold no bad feelings for either one of my mother’s. As a mother myself I know we do the best that we can with what we have. I do have contact with both mother’s. Neither one is a major part of my life at this time.
Summer 6yrs, Tx
When my adopted parents picked me up I had bruises all over me. I would stare in one spot for long periods of time. My adopted parents put me in the same church day care I had been in before my bio-mom took me away. I had the same teachers.
The teachers saw the bruises too. I had mental and learning testing done. The test results were grim.
I was border line mentally retarded, brain damaged, and would never be able to read.
SO “THEY” said…
By 3rd grade I was reading at 12th grade level. *
My adoptive parents worked with me and also began the process of adopting me. The attorney didn’t think they had a chance!
**Although I still suffer with the brain damage to my short term memory I have an above average IQ and a 4.0 GPA at the local 2 year college. I do have social ineptness that is similar to Aspergers ( a form of autism). My oldest son is borderline Aspergers and I don’t see why I should be tested. I KNOW I have a problem.. (a whole other blog)**
Summer 5 turning 6 years old, AR
One day a group of people with my bio-mom came over. I knew my mother, but I didn’t recognize the two adults and the teen boy with her.
They had come to take me away but, but I was nervous and scared. I had been beaten and I had no memory of them. My adopted mom was upset that I didn’t recognize her.
The adopted parents had made bio-mom tell them where I was. They had asked for months where I was and she wouldn’t tell them. She finally did and they made her get in the car with them and drive from from Southeast Texas, to Arkansas to get me.
I left with them that day to be rescued, but was I rescued?
5 years old, AR
Bio-father drove an old pick-up truck. Bio-father, sister, and I were in the truck driving somewhere. There was a lady hitchhiking on the side of the road. He stopped to give her a lift. I thought she was beautiful. tall, long legs, tanned skin, and with long dark hair.
I never knew where she was going, but she ended up living with us and sleeping in his bed. I don’t remember too much about her. I don’t recall her ever being mean to us either. We were a family.
5 years old, AR
I was always small for my age. Even grown I have never made it past 5 feet tall with out high heels on. Because of my size I was picked on a lot. I was also very afraid of heights. Meaning anything over 2 inches above the ground
I was on a one piece metal see-saw (very similar to this) and several kids sat on one side so that I stayed up in the air. I was crying to for them to let me down. It seemed like ages that I was up there. The teacher didn’t even come to help. She only watched. I was learning at a young age what it was like to be bullied.
5 years old, AR
I don’t remember details which is probably for the best. I remember having to take a shower with him and laying in bed with him naked.
As a adult I have had contact with his daughter and she doesn’t remember anything.
She is my sister, yes, my bio-half sister. He is my bio father. The one that my mother followed to Alabama.
At the age of 5 I couldn’t understand why he hated me so much, and she could do no wrong. Now I see. I wasn’t wanted by my biological mother or father as a child.