I M Perfect lady

Tag: pedophile

  • You Break the Chain

    Grand Traverse Women Magazine was asking about articles on Motherhood, and immediately I felt that I had a unique perspective in how my mothering changed as I unraveled my life of abuse.

    It is like my children had two different mothers without going through a divorce, the changes in how I mothered are totally opposite.

    The woman in motherhood is the key component, how she is built and operates, is how she will mother.

    Who I was as a woman is where I began mothering from and I brought to mothering, the skills I learned from my mother, a legacy that flows into us like breath.

    Mothering doesn’t change us; we bring to the child who we are.

    All of our past lands upon the child in the way we relate to them and how we expect them to relate to us, we began building a relationship.

    A relationship of dysfunction or one with healthy boundaries, and it all depends upon the adult.

    Whether this is motherhood or fatherhood, the adult is the operator of the relationship and how they conduct themselves is how healthy or unhealthy the child will grow.

    My father was a pedophile and I one of his victims. My mother stayed married to this man for 49 years, this is the pattern I had to follow.

    I mothered as she did, until at 46, I found out that my childhood of no memories was due to the fact I was abused, I then had to re-look at who I was and how I lived.

    An adult woman of abuse is very co-dependent, she expects her children to make her shine, to make her happy to live for her.
    A woman who is clear and separated from abuse knows her children are free to live and be themselves, and will monitor but not control their lives.

    The dysfunctional co-dependent way of mothering is hell to do and tragically damages children to the extent that they don’t know how to live a life separated from others, they are groomed to be parasites.

    Living off of what makes others happy.

    My children, all four, were set free the moment I knew I was abused and that I had serious work to do on getting me back to ‘normal’.

    I allowed them to be themselves and we worked on separating them from me and my demands and my wishes and my dreams.

    As I separated myself from my mother I then could allow my children to be separate from me.

    Mothering is to nurture and to love and respect WHO they are and not hijack their lives to become arm candy and self-esteem boosters.

    My children were an extension of me, not individuals.

    The more I became an individual the more I could allow them to be individuals too.

    Motherhood to me now isn’t so scary, for I would now allow them to enter onto this planet as wonderful curious loving souls and let them explore and learn to be who they were meant to be.

    My children experienced two kinds of mothers within one woman; the changes in our home are extreme.

    My rages and violent screaming rampages have disappeared and in its place a woman who seeks to find a peaceful solution, a way to co-habitat that honors all who live here.

    Motherhood is only as happy as our childhood…the legacy will repeat itself unless and until you break the chain.

  • Looking at her…

    I went online and did some reading on the statistics and reseach on pedophiles, for some reason I hadn’t done this before.

     

    Pedophile.

    The word comes from the Greek: παιδοφιλία (paidophilia): παῖς (pais), "child" and φιλία (philia), "friendship".

     

    Child friendship, wow, I would have thought the root of the word would be monster, predator, but not child friendship!

     

    Imagine!

     

    Child friendship, which is exactly what I have been trying to warn my sister from allowing to happen, a friendship being formed with her little granddaughter and my father. 

     

    Below are a few paragraphs from another article I found interesting. That being a pedophile is similar to performing magic tricks…

    In 1992 while living in Los Angeles, actor and magician Steve Valentine invited me to be his guest at the world famous Hollywood Magic Castle.  The Castle is a private club dedicated to the promotion of magic as an art form and hobby.  Club members perform their illusions up-close, chair-side, right under your nose.  Afterward, our group ended up at my apartment where Steve was gracious enough to show us more magic.  Amazed at how easy it was to fool us, I asked him point blank, “Why can’t we figure it out?”

    His answer has stuck in my mind for almost 20 years. “Magicians can get away with it,” he said, “because we know how you think.”  Having a degree in communication and psychology, I was riveted by the idea that the majority of humans (myself included) process the world through a homogenous lens that others can easily manipulate to fool us into seeing exactly what they want us to.  And what’s truly discouraging, as anyone who has ever been privy to the workings of a magic trick can attest, is how mindlessly simple the bending of reality needs to be to completely fool everyone.  I had always believed the wonder of magic rested within the skill of the magician.  Come to find out, it’s more accurately rooted in the conformed ignorance of the audience.

    The answer is simple; like a magician, predators get away with it because they know how children think, and as a result they’re able to convince adult eyes to see exactly what they want us to see; an ILLUSION that nothing is wrong.

    The mind control – the trick – the reason victims are not reporting the crime, is simply this: Fear.  Predators use the most powerful human motivator—Fear—to trick our children into silence.

     

    It is not the skilled mastery of the Predator that allows them to molest and rape our children and get away with it; rather it is the conformed ignorance of our children.  We must therefore make every effort to arm our children with pragmatic information to help them to fight back and destroy the monsters who would hurt them.

     

    You can read the full articles at www.ezfame.com

     

    Amazing to read that pedophiles are magicians who befriend our children and then put the seal of fear around the whole incident and call it ‘our secret- our BAD secret’ bringing the child in on the act, owning the shame and blame and fearing exposure to the loss of their innocence.

     

     

    Here are some statistics I read.

     

    1 in 4 girls is sexually abused before the age of 14

     

    1 in 6 boys is sexually abused before the age of 16

     

    Like rape, child molestation is one of the most under-reported crimes: only 1-10% are ever disclosed.

     

    More than 90% of all sexual abuse victims know their perpetrator. Almost 50% of the offenders are household members and 38% are already acquaintances of the victims.

     

    The average serial child molester has between 360-380 victims in his lifetime.

     

    This magic trick and the magicians who perform them on our innocent children will continue to play out as long as we continue to see them as normal fathers, grandfathers, and great grandfathers.

     

    The Illusion is the perfect environment for my father to perform his tricks.

     

    He is being supervised while he begins his next act, and being hand delivered his next partner to perform with him.

     

    For without a partner his magic dies.

     

    The magic of taking a child’s friendship and tainting it with sexual abuse, of taking our love and trust and using it to entrust us with his secret.

     

    He needs the ignorance of the adults in the room and he needs a child’s friendship, its these two main ingredients that will make the whole act.

     

    The magicians rely upon you looking at one thing while something else is really going on.

     

    As my sister is looking for a pedophile, while a pedophile is looking at her.

     

     

  • Upon His Knee.

    It would be nice if it were all lies, just a made up story, a figment of my imagination, as an email suggests.

     

    ‘you are FEEDING your anger with LIES. Just to carry on the hated/evil.’

     

    The lie I told was that my mother stayed in the same house as my father while in Texas, I guess I was wrong.  She was in the same neighborhood, just not the same house.

     

    I don’t know if she spent time with him or seen him or anything, all I knew is her destination was the same as his.  Okay, I get it ….  I was wrong.

     

    I was wrong about that.

     

    Yet what they fail to realize is that I am not looking to be fed, nor am I creating lies to fuel an evil to carry it on, the evil is being carried along by them, not me.

     

    The wonderful technology of Facebook reveals to me in pictures that don’t lie.

     

    My father is posing with his granddaughter, grandson and newest little great granddaughter, with captions of ‘grandpa’.

     

    The sender of the email is standing at his side.

     

    What they fail to notice is that THEY are the ones who allow another little girl in his presence.

     

    I am not the one who is allowing this, but the one who is trying to tell them not to trust this old grandpa man.

     

    I sent an email to the lady of the house where my father lives, informing her that I will be contacting the Family Independence Agency in their town letting them know, a child is in danger.

     

    The family can’t see the danger and while they are blind to it, the danger continues on to another generation, the third. 

     

    I thought they knew who they had in their homes, the picture tells me they have no idea.

     

    They think I am the one, who keeps this sordid tale alive, that I am the creator of this sad little tune, but little do they know; they are the ones who sing the chorus line.

     

    They think I drum up new little lies to keep their world a mess, while they are looking at me, HE is looking at his newest littlest victim, waiting for her to ripen to the perfect little age.

     

    My anger, my hate, my evil they believe I carry is the opposite.  I care enough to try and wake them up.

     

    Hate me, be angry with me, and lose your respect for me that is fine, I will do my best to keep his hands off another little girl.

     

    The picture is the picture of denial.

    Denial is seeing a grandpa where a pedophile stands.

     

    He looks the same.

    Harmless.

    Old.

    Familiar.

    Himself.

     

    What I needed the most way back when, was someone to alert the family, someone to protect me from this man.  I can now be that person to the newest little girl to join our family tree.

     

    I will be the one who tries to stop the spread of his disease from touching her.

     

    Perhaps her grandmother will now take heed, pay attention when it is her first grandchild who sits upon HIS knee.

     

  • Uncontested.

    My brother and I have been writing about our feelings or the lack thereof with our father, there is still something I am missing in our dialogue.

     

    When I wrote the second time, I was addressing the fact that my brother was disappointed with the kind of father he had.

     

    We also talked about my usage of the words dad and father when speaking about this man and it opened up another point. 

     

    What is the meaning of dad and father?

     

    Dad – an informal word for father.

     

    Father – A male person whose sperm unites with an egg, resulting in the conception of a child. b. A man who adopts a child. c. A man who raises a child.

     

    While reading them, the last part is where he failed; he didn’t raise us, he lowered us. 

     

    My brother would like me to write the word dad (dad) to emphasize the lack of being one. Or perhaps use biological dad.

     

    For the past 4 ½ years when I would speak of my father I would call him by his name, I could no longer referenced him with dad.

     

    It would be nice if there was a new term for this, for a man who lowers his kids, who makes them less than who they are.

     

    The word dad was like a swear word to me, like a mouth full of disappointment, and my tongue couldn’t form the word to slip it past my lips, it had broken my heart.

     

    His formal name came easy, it ripped the title from his back.

     

    It seems like a betrayal to yourself as a child, to use that name for someone who hasn’t acted like a dad, but rather used the dad term for priveledges of a sick disease.

     

    In fact I had read somewhere that pedopiles who abuse their own children are seen as lazy, for they don’t even have the energy to leave their homes. 

     

    You see some pedophiles don’t have home grown little girls, they have to construct elaborate ways to have the opportunity to be with little girls.

     

    I guess that makes sense and it makes us seem like we were grown for a set purpose and then became residual garbage.  No wonder my brother feels so useless, he wasn’t even ‘special’ for a short period of time.

     

    I felt this odd jealousy or a oneupmanship between my brother and I.

     

    Is it better to feel used, abused and damaged or to never be seen at all?

     

    About six years ago I read a book, “The Hidden Messages in Water,” by Masaru Emoto and here is a portion of what he says.

     

    I have the impression that the act of looking at water crystals is an act of creating life.  This is because when you look at the crystals, the water changes its appearance moment by moment.  Your gaze has a special energy of its own, and while a gaze of good intentions will give courage an evil gaze will actually take it away.

     

    A family that subscribed to our magazine conducted an interesting experiment.  They put rice in two glass jars and every day for a month said “Thank you” to one jar and “You Fool” to the other, and then they tracked how the rice changed over the period.  Even the children, when they got home from school, would speak these words to the jars of rice.

     

    After a month, the rice that was told “Thank you” started to ferment, with a mellow smell like that of malt, while the rice that was exposed to “You Fool” rotted and turned black.

     

    I wrote about this experiement in the book that I published, and as a result hundreds of families throughout Japan conducted this same experiement for themselves.  Everyone reported the same results.  One family tried a variation of the experiement: like the others they said “Thank you” to the first bottle of rice and “You fool” to the second bottle, and then they prepared a third bottle of rice that they simply ignored.

     

    What do you think happened?  The rice that was ignored actually rotted before the rice that was exposed to ‘You fool.’  When others tried this same experiement, the results were again the same.  It seems that being ridiculed is actually not as damaging as being ignored.

     

    To give your positive or negative attention to something is a way of giving energy.  The most damaging form of behavior is withholding your attention.

     

    I think this experiement has the potential to teach us a very important lesson.  We must take care to give our children our attention, and to talk to them.  Speaking words of kindness and love should begin from the time of conception…..Masaru Emoto.

     

    This book came to mind immediately and I recalled this experiment, but what I didn’t recall was the one jar of rice that was ignored.

     

    So in the oneupmanship, my brother wins.  He rotted first.  I never knew that they hurt worse.  Wow.

     

    Being abused you get attention, which is better than none at all.  I know this has to be why we feel guilty, for we wanted the attention so bad. 

     

    Imagine what we do to just get attention, to just be seen, just so we are not ignored.

     

    Neither one of us can call him dad, we both feel the title doesn’t fit, I just wish there were a title that did.

     

    What do you call a man like our father?

    What term can possibly fit that?

    Estranged father?

    Ex-Father?

     

    I looked up divorce from father, and while glancing at the different sentences, one word caught my eye.  Uncontested.

     

    What I feel most is that he didn’t contest his worthiness as father, he didn’t protest at all, how sad to find not one place where we could call you dad.

     

    The scales tipped uncontested.

    IMG_1219

     

  • Look the other way.

    “There are two ways to be fooled.  One is to believe what isn’t true; the other is to refuse to believe what is true.”

     Soren Kierkagaard

     

     

    What is denial?

     

    Of course I had to look it up.

     

    Denial.

    -disavowal: a statement saying that something is not true or not correct

    -refusal to allow somebody something: a refusal to grant something desired or believed to be a right

    – refusal to acknowledge existence of something: a refusal to believe in something or admit that something exists

    The refusal to acknowledge existence of something: refusal to believe something or admit that something exists.

     

    I am wondering the difference between women who stand by an alcoholic husband compared to one who stands by a husband who is accused of being a pedophile.

     

    What seems to be easier to see is the alcoholic, for he comes home with the evidence written all over him, he smells like a drunk, walks like a drunk yet that woman is not condemned for standing by him.  Why?  Why is this one ok? 

     

    Now in the case of a woman whose husband is accused of being a pedophile, the only evidence is the child.  What did the child say?   More often than not, the man isn’t found with his pants down by his ankles, so the woman then has to believe the child over the man.  And the child has to be the one to speak up, to bring up this bit of information. 

     

    The man himself takes great care in covering up his evidence, he is actually a smooth operator, a con artist, a master manipulator, and we expect the woman to scout this out. 

     

    When he comes home you do not see his evidence.

     

    Instead you have to find his evidence on the children within range of him.

     

    People look at him and instead they need to look for evidence among the children.

     

    The question comes to me, more often than not, “where was your mother in all of this, what did she know, or how could she not know.”

     

    Now I am not defending her, but instead trying to sort out how it is that grown ladies seem to act so “stupid” it seems when it comes to the man they love.

     

    I am not certain what happened with my mother, it could have been a combination of many things.  One that she never experienced him as a pedophile, she never was a victim of him.  Second she never caught him in action.  Third, she had to believe a small child speaking.  Her day-to-day evidence didn’t support the allegations.

     

    When I suggested to her, that she danced with a monster whether she knew it or not, her comment was, “I don’t dance”.

     

    She couldn’t see him as a monster.  Yet in my case my body knew he was.  So I had evidence of this in my body.

     

    Do you have any idea of what the cost is to seeing someone different?  Do you know what it takes to replace a rosy picture with a nasty one?  Do you know what will be expected of you if you ‘change’ your mind?

     

    I do.

     

    My whole world flipped around, all my family lay in a discarded mess off to one side.

     

    What you are asking of these women is huge.

     

    I have no experience of living under the influence of a woman whose husband is an alcoholic, but I can tell you what happens to grow up in a family of a woman who couldn’t change her mind.

     

    Somehow I think that in the ‘old days’ it was admirable to stand by your man, and in fact doesn’t the traditional wedding vows claim, “in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad…” so a woman is made to be better if they stick around even when times get rough.

     

    What I am now beginning to understand it is much more admirable to step out, to walk away, to stop being victimized by someone who is lost behind a disease, to divorce your mind from the rosy image.

     

    What is the difference between my mother not being able to see her husband in a bad light, and a mother who refuses to see her child addicted to drugs?  They both want to keep the innocent image, to not have to deal, to not change their minds.

     

    What is it that keeps us so mentally dysfunctional when it comes to those we love?  What has us blinded so that we can’t picture them in another light?

     

    Is it more about us than it is even about that other person?  Was my mother’s story and self more at risk than anything else? What was she to lose? 

     

    What was the cost inside of her?  What would she be required to feel?  What pain would she have to endure?

     

    To live painless is to not deal, not see, not be aware of what is wrong, instead work like hell to make what is not working work.

     

    Become very good at putting on a social face of normal, while underneath the truths get pushed to the back and out of the day to day running of life.

     

    Is that denial in its application?  Isn’t that what it means  “The refusal to acknowledge existence of something: refusal to believe something or admit that something exists.”

     

    It almost seems like such a gentle word, “she was in denial” like she was lying on the couch.  Yet that one little word allowed a man to continue on doing what he did, continue to be a monster in our presents, because she failed to acknowledge the existence of a monster, she refused to believe.

     

    Each monster needs a woman in denial to operate.

    Each addict needs a woman to co-operate to work.

     

    The application of not seeing works to the benefit of the disease, to the benefit of the addiction, to the detriment of the children in the house, even to the person locked behind the addiction.

     

    You are not helping your loved one by blinking this away; instead you are helping the disease.

     

    Imagine the shock and horror each ‘caring and loving’ mother/wife would be in, if they knew that by not seeing the disease they were actually abusing the child/husband and loving the disease.

     

    Who could know that your love slips onto the disease!

     

    Just by denying the disease doesn’t make it disappear, even if you want to hold on to the image of pureness, the disease lays over the top.

     

    My mother’s biggest crime was not seeing him as a monster, period.

     

    She failed to acknowledge its existence.

     

    How many ladies are out there that fail to acknowledge the existence of alcoholism, or drug abuse, they simply want to retain the innocent image.

     

    That is their crime, or fault, they are incapable of seeing something change for the worse, to crumble and fall, they fail to see the pain in another to see one they love in a different light.

     

    My mother isn’t that unusual.  I am witnessing the application of denial and it comes in all shapes and sizes, it doesn’t discriminate, it is an equal opportunity for all.

     

    Denial is the legacy my mother gave us, and oddly enough my father told his truth.  He was the monster; she just could not see it.  He walked, talked, and breathed who he was.  He did is part well. 

     

    Who is more authentic in their case? 

     

    I can see why each of my parents did what they did.

    My father was abused as a child and he went forth and replicated what he felt love was.

    My mother was abused a child and she went forth and replicated what love was.

     

    Both were the perfect match to undo this wrong.

    Neither one could begin to unhinge the wrong.

    All it takes is one person to see.

    One person to stop this pretend dance, one person to acknowledge the existence of what is.

    It takes just one.

     

    To me they failed to see their life lesson, they failed to heal their childhood wounds.  They became ‘adult children’ of abuse; they literally failed to right a wrong that was done to them!

     

    The legacy of denial, the legacy of abuse, maybe the legacy of denying abuse exists.

     

    All it takes for evil to win, is for us to look the other way.