A Motherless Child’s Story 

My theory in life is “Strike two” because by 3 I have lost, so I try to never allow anyone to hurt, take advantage, or make a fool out of me going over that, almost like the saying “first time shame on me, 2nd time it’s shame on you”. 

My mother is the only person to date that exceeded my little law.

I was always the too independent child. Sometimes I wished growing, I was a little needier, a princess maybe, but it was never in me for as long as I remember. 

I was incested early on in my life, it may very well took all of that away,  my sweetness, the want of endearing hugs, how I took or lacked giving compliments, and trusting another human being, to an entirely different level.

I sure I started out needing those interactions, but I also started out with my innocence as well, and it too was taken away very quickly. That equipped me with different ways of thinking and being keener, observant, and an excellent judge of character others, all I needed was to take care of myself, because in my eyes no one else could, not even my Mother. 

while calling my need to express myself, or speaking bluntly and truthfully, as “wayward” she labeled me as a wayward child. 

I lived with my Grandmother and her identical twin sister, my Aunt, and they’re household included my Aunt’s husband who I called Grandpa, who was supposed to be my Uncle, right? 

Well that’s another family secret, another story, for another time, and the cousin 12 yrs my senior,the monstee who sexually abused me for 10 years of my life, like I was his live in receptacle. 

My Gram’s was pretty up there in age, yet they still dressed the same head to toe, woke every morning by 4am and slept by 8:00 pm, so they watched after me as best they could.

My mother when I asked about her they’d simply sayed she “worked” and she left me on them at age 3, while she prepared to have my baby brother, but it was also said she worked a new job at one point until I stopped asking, knowing that didn’t require 24 hours, no job does. 

She lived a life of a woman without children, that was the reason I lived with them from age 3 to about 15yrs old, as well as my baby brother was also living there once he turned 3, we were 3yrs  apart. 

I remember visiting my mother on some weekends at her 4 family flat on Field St. and seeing my baby brother, I asked basic kid questions, as I asked her why I couldn’t stay here with her and my new baby brother, she said the landlord Mr.Chester didn’t want children running over his head, I was satisfied with that answer for a second, but had something  I wanted to tell her but, went on to say I would tiptoe and could I tell Mr. Chester, I wouldn’t  make noise over his head, but she was tired of answering  my questions so she sent me away, saying its time to nap. I remember my throat  sting because I needed to tell her about was my cousin did, but she was frustrated by then.

I told my mother during the next visit, I was being touched with distinct details this was at 4, she dismissed it and called me a liar.                        

Well certainly that stopped me from verbally expressing that again, until I was 21.

It was odd what I remembered by details from my youth, but I was compelled to never forget the vast majority, as well as something’s were flashbacks coming back once you actually thought bringing them back to the front of your brain alot of times, or your senses reloading after smelling, tasting etc, something out of familiarity.

I held all of my own pain, guilt, fear, and the fact that my innocence was lost, before I ever had a chance to value it, or know that was a treasure, a bargaining chip so to speak to give in marriage, when I grew up, a no go zone, it was gone, taken by a thief in the night. And my mother was aware but didn’t  care to press or find out.

I was shut down by her comment when I was a toddler, 

I just shut up like she told me. As she shipped me right back to Grammy’s.

I basically pasted on a fake smile enduring pain for years, most adults couldn’t take, and finished suppressing inwardly, from that day on.

It was silly, but in my twenties, I never knew when I was horny, I just had sex when I was in a relationship, when they wanted it, I never learned “No” or “I don’t feel like it”, it was a habtual duty done threateningly by my aggressor, in the most sacred and valued part of my childhood.  Saying “No” came to me much later in my early to middle twenties,  and I practiced that shit in yhe mirror having no problem saying it or explaining anything behind it, after that.

In my “teen years”, I became so absorbed in getting my story out, it was a form of self counseling, and all writing was my escape, my written other life, my real story, I was supposed to wake up too daily. 

It wasn’t hard to have that mentality, considering that was the source behind never being suicidal, going down the path of drugs, prostitution, homosexuality, or having the problems of not loving myself, like so many that shared my story, because I always thought to myself, I was going to wake up out this nightmare soon into my “real life”, and weirdly I over loved myself and Love, never giving up on either. 🙂

The life I wrote about though, where  of my imaginary friend Sally a ballerina girl in a picture that favored me at 5, trapped at my mom’s house on the wall, she was my sister and I had a different mother that spent time, laughed and treasured my existence, very creative for a child, I most say so myself.lol

That was usually my punishment not being able to write, I didn’t have a diary, just a simple dream journal only for the phophetic dreams I’d started having since 8. 

I wrote songs and short stories in my notebooks back then, later getting into writing my real expressions, my poetry.

Usually if I broke curfew or came home late from school without calling, that would be my punishment, no writing or telephone.

I was barely at my mother’s house between ages 5-12, although she’d make a cameo appearance or call and tell my Grams, what not to let me do. 

I always felt she harbored a resentment or anger toward me for telling her of my sexual abuse, maybe she felt guilty that she did nothing about it, I gave her ample excuses in my heart still. It wasn’t  the excuse, not really, she preferred to sweep it under the carpet, or punish me for being my Dad’s twin, as well as a Daddy’s girl too. 

My Dad was in jail for stabbing a man, when all this took place. 

It was always the way she glared at me, totally unmotherly or how she spoke, never welcomed or answered my questions or laughed at jokes, only criticized me about everything, even my songs, “Why don’t you write gospel songs”? She’d say after invading my private notes and songs.

I tried very hard to joke around and even dumbed myself down on occasions to get her to talk with me searching for some possiblity of a bond, some care or warmth I could hold onto, using any good intention to bridge the gaps, anything other then being the reason behind her mean stare that disappeared once others were present.

My mother was such a master of deception, a brilliant actress she had hundreds of people fooled, like we had this wonderful relationship full of love, I’d watch her threaten  me seconds before someone came and while I’m still caught in my feelings, she’d already be smiling.

I wasn’t alone in my ways of thinking, my friends’ their moms and random people thought it was some form of jealousy regarding my father, who’d never married her, or that I resembled him too much, or she felt threatened, or maybe he broke her heart too bad. 

Either way when my Dad got out of jail, he had many questions, once I told him, he’d spoke many times almost, dropping his head in mid thought, leaving more silence in his beginning statement  of why he left, stopping himself, because she was my mother, but once older I said the same thing at 8, that I say now, why didn’t you take me with you Dad?

 By 19, it was hatred of her secrets, I was still giving her excuses, but I was learning things, like the  possibly  my brother had a different father, but bore my Dad’s name, after all the mistreatment  my Dad when through with her, I was too scared to tell him, besides him having an idea of how evil she was, I never wanted him to question paternity regarding me, she already didn’t allow him to see us, and my Momo which was his mom or be around his family or get valuable  history. Only my dad saw me was if I was outside and rode down the street.Until I was maybe 17.

Yet her coworkers and church members, unfortunately believed pretty much anything she said. 

So I found myself getting slandered by my own mother, to those who believed anything  from her mouth as they would shake there heads of give disapproving stares, after she did nothing to my aggressor, regarding the sexual abuse I endured for 10 years of my childhood.

She just began to resent me more and more as the years went on. 

Even as I lived on my own since 17 when she put me out.

I became very untrusting of her and quite mean to everyone else because I felt so alone, not feeling any love, not having a listening ear I could rely on, or touching my dumb mother’s stupid heart the way it was supposed to be, for her 1st born and only daughter. 

Only heard people’s opinons regarding “how I should be”, “what I needed go do differently “,  or praising her saying at least you’re here, she could have aborted you and blah blah blah.

I began praying to God so often as I had made Him my parent, my confidant very early. 

I look back now at how I questioned Him so much, and spoke of how I didn’t deserve losing my innocence, for the ways I had began feeling inside, and why I had her as a mother? What had I done in a previous life, for this?

The sexual abuse stopped at 13yrs before the awkward High school phase, and I graduated at 17. 

Going on to a Community College to stay near by for pending court dates, staying in her grip as she spent all my tuition monies for her purposes,  leaving me sometimes just enough for used books or an outfit or two, playing  mind games and shitting on my good heart regarding my son’s or baby brother’s need for school clothes  etc,.

 Calling me selfish or stingy , once I’d see what was left , if anything was left. Knowing that I had to wait or rely on her further, another trap, she kept me in her web. Another time before getting my car to get me back and forth to school, she knew it, she always to intervene in my growth.

Although I remember I was also pregnant at 14 first, and she made me abort twins. I sometimes would still carry a guilt and I’d reflect on what they would have been like, if she’d  have stolen them as well, and would they have been successful. 

Going to court, she fed me some jibberish about health insurance was why we were going, we left the house that morning, in good spirits, she bought McDonald’s breakfast before court, like things were better than they had ever been, she was a true master of deception, but my Grams taught me too read everything and don’t okay things you don’t  understand, I got a chance learn those lessons this day. 

However I never throught she would keep me in court stopping my youthful life, to take my son away from me so viciously, hiding him the whole nine yards.

She was unstoppable in Judge Mathis courtroom, before he became a television judge, she lied so much, I couldn’t believe this stranger gave birth to me, or ever loved me, by what she displayed in that courtroom. 

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. 

One of her methods was also to put wrong addresses and switch numbers in my address, so I couldn’t get accurate court dates when she’d  go trying to process guardianship of my son, so sometimes I wasn’t even aware there were court dates.

I would just randomly go to the City Building on dry runs, behind her vindictiveness and be told it was yesterday, or next week or tomorrow, although the clerks sorrowfully looked at me, all they could do was update my information, they weren’t the judge. 

I learned then how manipulative she was.

Even had my toddler son calling me Tammy and poisoning him to never want to live with me very early on, coaching him to think she was his mother, it was very depressing and bullyish, but I wouldn’t let it break me. 

I was not prepared in court, only 17 and listening to my so called mother talk so vile, never once looking over at me, to see the permanent damage she was causing, or my disbelief in her words or tears, and when it came time for me to speak, I looked over at her and burst out into tears.

She never protected me, or my honor, but chose to take my only son away from me, and I said to Judge Mathis, she’s not telling the truth sir, and he began hollering asking me “was I calling my mother a liar”? Alot of things she was ran through my head, just a liar, certainly  wasn’t  all.

As I told him again, what she was saying was not true, and he stated “he didn’t like my attitude”. 

I never showed an attitude, only sadness that he misinterpreted my tears on her behalf.

That day he finished breaking my heart saying maybe by the time my son was 8-11 yrs old, 

he’d want to stay with me, he was only 3yrs old at that time, but he said, it was in the court’s best interest to grant temporary custody and he remain with his grandma, slamming down the gavel.

 I was heartbroken and lost to say the least.

The same woman who was never a mother to me, who disregarded my feelings at every turn, who changed my entire path in life by decisions and had my son calling her momma. 

Was awarded temporary guardianship over my only son.

I hated Judge Mathis for years, could never even watch his show, because he helped her take one more thing from me.

He became one more person, that my silent cries remained unheard by, as my mother mockingly used the same sexual abuse she let happen me,  be part of her testimony and lies as too why I shouldn’t be allowed to have my son and Mathis fell for it hook line and sinker, not grasping my need of my child. 

I had been kicked out, living on my own, in my own house and he never asked any of that, just based it on my inability to properly hold back tears and be a slick liar in court, like my mother.  

Now, I didn’t trust the justice system either.              

It never got better, I continued trying to reach out, always keeping in mind to love and honor my mother, even with my son living with her. 

Asking him everytime I was around was he ready to live with me.

 One time before the next series of court dates, way after getting my own house, I took him with me, my mother wasn’t there and Grammy suggested after I told her I couldn’t do anything with my son, to take him for a stroll, so I did, but something snapped as I pushed his stroller all the way to my house. 

My mother came over at 2:00 am and she pulled a gun on me, put it up to my head and demanded I give her, her baby back! Her baby? 

I had let his father keep him that night, for safety, so he wasn’t there. I knew she’d come, and hated me just this much, later she got along well with my oldest son’s  father from child support checks sent, he was able to take him for overnight stays, anywhere really and once he married, his wife did my mother’s hair on several occasions and they went to dinner, as well as lived like that was her family, while I was her blood  and was never given any of these opportunities,  not once, no options.Bizzare things like this were reasons I researched everything.

She held that gun right up to my temple in front of my elderly Grammy and said she’d kill me if I didn’t tell her where her son was, I never did, 

but I was so shook up, knowing this woman hated my guts this much, that she’d probably do it, next  time, or pay someone else too.

I stood up to her though anyway, with all I had left in me and told her no! 

And he’s my baby and she couldn’t have him. 

As my Grammy was pretty much bullied by her too, scared and kept saying to give her, her baby, I didn’t even try to clean her error up, I told her No also.

She left promising once she found him, I’d never see him again, she kept that promise.

I held my ground and tears, but once she left I cried so hard that night, that I was beginning to not know what to do, my mother had put a gun to my head was all I knew.

Days went by I’d safely gotten my son back from his Dad, at that time she didn’t  know where he stayed, as well as didn’t interact with him at all, yet. 

But I feared her coming back on another rampage. 

I spoke to the police, but was told to come in regarding a report but couldn’t make it to the Prencint because it was too far. 

I got counsel from different people, including the only pastor I knew Rev. Boyd, and he told me to go to her with the baby and apologize? 

My head nearly spun around like the Exorcist, other’s said similar, to get our relationship in a better place, I was so confused, I told them all, we never had a relationship to begin with, feeding my story across the phone lines to full ears. 

My brother got hold to info, he overheard, that right before my son was born, our mother had a miscarriage, and he said she had a rectomy, but I found out later he pronounced hysterectomy wrong, but I still couldn’t feel sorry for her, didn’t  want too either. 

Especially how she used my abuse against me in court to take my son.

And the miscarriage was meant, because she was pregnant by a married man, anyway. I remember  when this man visited, bringing chinese food and gifts,  she even scripted and threatened us, before getting out the car for the “yard sale” we didn’t know him and to not talk to his wife at all, as she offered us cookies and we looked back and forth at eachother so awkwardly my brother and I, we never knew what to say, we just went outside where our mother was, everything she did was  uncalled for. His son was a police office that got shot in that very same driveway, maybe 5yrs later, and she rode by but never stopped, I mean afterall, it’d look pretty weird the yard sale lady from years before offering  her condolences. 

My brother was very serviceable to our mother, especially later in his life. 

We never had rivalry issues, we  never had a single agruement, ever. 

Especially when it came to any part my mother played, I took into account early, the backseat was mine and

no one was her favorite, so there certainly was no need to compete for love her cold-heart never held. 

I was always in my own lane.

Yet being that way allowed my brother freedom of his own mind and heart. 

Sometimes he saw her awful ways sometimes he closed his eyes too them, but I made every effort to keep my opinions and feelings away from him, not to poison with how I felt about our mother, 

he knew everything else, and always showed up anywhere I was at, I could say I truly loved him, because in 2006, I lost my baby brother to a fatal car crash and he was 32yrs old. (R.I.P baby Bro, love forever) 

He did everything for our mother every waking day, I was put out early, he even ran her bath water, so she’d never miss out in not having a man, he spoiled her cut her steak up, ran all her errands, picked her up daily from work, she threatened him often with taking sonething he enjoyed away all the time, ig he didn’t answer her calls or whatever too, never appreciating his patient heart, but he died thinking she loved him. That was enough for me. He visits in my dreams still, every now and then, not much.

It hurt my heart when all she spoke of was his insurance policy, and money people were giving, if has the audacity to imply she’d split it with me, I told her I’m good , no thanks, but as I said another day another story, besides I’ve gotten ahead of myself.

After the advice from the Pastor Boyd, I made the decision to call and test the waters, of course she played with my mind again, pretending she cared so much for me and my son’s well being and wanted desperately to see us, never apologizing for holding a gun to my head or anything else. poof* gone just like everything around her.

She never apologized for anything.

Besides she always used my Grammy to butter me up first, and since my Aunt died, her identical twin, she had moved in with my mother now, for a year and a half, getting bullied out of her disability, getting $20 a month, my mother saying that’s all she needed.My (Grammy passed away 9/29/2000 R.I.P forever <3)

I met her that weekend at her house, and she stated on the phone, I’d be taking my son back with me, 

she only wanted to see us, so I got there and she asked me to go to the market with her, she wanted to make a good dinner while we visited, and to leave the baby with Grammy, and my brother was about 16 at this time and was there as well, I practically raised him at Grammy’s, protecting and making sure, he wasn’t touched or sexually abused, I also stepped out into harm’s way if our cousin, called him away alone, once I actually felt he was trying to get my brother, sending him away outside, and took the abuse, so he never had too, because I noticed him watching my brother on an occasion,  so I became very watchful and killed the thoughts before they could settle in regarding my baby brother.

 I did as my mother asked, and went to the Supermarket with her, thinking maybe she wanted to speak with me alone regarding  my son, but there was no conversation, there or back from Farmer Jack, just dead silence, until she turned on the radio, such a hypocrite I thought to myself, as she had gospel music playing on the way back.

When we got back I helped bring in a bag or 2, my brother came out and got the rest.She went directly into her bedroom.

As I made it inside, something felt strange, as I set the groceries in the kitchen on the counter. 

My Grammy looked sad, as well as my brother coming in behind me. 

I instantly looked for my son, and he was gone, this witch had someone come and take him away, hiding him like she did too me before, my heart dropped, I became frantic, asking my Grammy and my brother where my son was, who came and got him? 

As my mother told me, I could leave now. 

I ran upstairs to my old bedroom looking, went towards her room looked inside, as she said you can get out my fucking house now,  same person who just finished listening to gospel music, she was so very hypocritical like that, cussing in the basement of the church, talking about the member’s and Pastor right under they’re  noses, this was who I knew all too well.

I left out her house, standing there not wanting to move an inch further, just in case she had him hid in the house somewhere.      

I called the police from a neighbor’s house two doors down and once the policemen came, she smugly, told them he wasn’t missing, 

and that I had kidnapped him, and she got me to bring him back, and she was his Guardian. 

The policeman who I thought could certainly help me, looked down, saying this is out of my jurisdiction, you have to go to court regarding the child. “Sorry”, one telling me to try talking it out with your mother in the mean time, maybe”. 

As she told them she wanted me off her premises, 

I died inside that day, nothing in all the sexual abuse, hateful stares, her never protecting me, my frustrations with court’s, or the gun to my head, prepared me for this treachery and pain I felt.

I was actually hyperventilating.

The officers asked where to drop me off at, and I gave them my address, I started feeling so numb it was visible, one of the officer’s  tried to lighten me up, saying you’re  to pretty, just go out and have fun, look at it as time to party don’t  feel bad, you’re  young. I couldn’t  smile, I just said thanks and exited the car, the other asked me you live in that huge house alone, how many bedrooms? as I said 4 and went inside my big empty house, with a big empty heart with a huge hole in the middle, and stared at the bedroom ceiling until I drifted off.

By the time I figured her ways out I had saw the movie “Flower’s in the Attic” and felt horror as that movie matched my feelings so closely certain parts give or take, I just happened  to play the part of all the children.

With my Mother comes more work then any person should become accustomed too or endure , she has done much more damage in my life, I just couldn’t put it all on this one page, I’ll save it for my book,perhaps.

However with her comes manipulation, betrayal, lies, deception, death follows her evilness and heavy pain. 

Thoughout my life she’s tried taking my other children as well on many occasions. 

They are grown now also and they met her treachery, even after the stories and seeing me break down after just her ways. EX. She bought them belts, socks,  and undies, once, and I said thanks, thinking it was a grandma gift type thing, and she said no, with some made up computer bill, here’s  the bill she said , It said I owed her 167.00 and she didn’t  need it all back at once but it could be broken down, I told her, please don’t  buy them anything else ever, because I didn’t ask her too, it was shit like that boiled my blood.

I warned them growing up, but everyone learns at they’re own given times. 

To this day my oldest son and I have absolutely no bond..at all and after some time I know everyone has a story, can’t wait to see his. 

I’ve tried talking, expressing my love, visiting him at her home to prove my love against wanting to be in her presence all those times, but he doesn’t call or visit, no interaction at all,

 except when she used him to try to get my other boys out the house, away from me, hell she befriended  a child protection worker to come to my house and they were ashamed and embarrassed for bothering us, when my husband and I let them in to have a seat, the lady left saying we lived better than her and she would not be back, I already  told her,  my mother’s always doing stuff like this and I know where this came from, all she stated she couldn’t say, but she made it very clear in her exit, she simply said “you are correct”, just straight contempt. 

I carry no weight in shame for my son, I’d do it all over again, but certainly differently.

 Ironic thing is about him, he’s 29 yrs old now and he was the only child I’ve had two weeks over  his duedate, I bare a bikini cut scar from his C-section, and was in labor with him for 18 hours, the hardest labor, the hardest to get love from, and the hardest work physical and mentally of my life. 

I will forever love my 1st born, because regardless of all I’ve been through, or what anyone says, he is mine. 

I’ve never met his 1yr old daughter physically, and he acts robotic now, with no feelings at all and this change swept over him since my Mother retired from the government in the last 3-4 years. He was calling to say Hi,  Happy birthday, Happy Mother’s  day etc., but that changed, turning into text with two words only, to neither a call nor text.

I understand its far fetched to many, but mind control exists and recently my son took his babygirl from her mother, who he put out immediately after she gave birth, he is allowing my mother to have history repeat itself, and now with his own child, as she basically stays with this woman now. 

I spoke with the baby’s  mother at other times, and all she can say is you were right, about everything and they lied in court.

 In instances of my mother when I warn people, I hate hearing I’m right. I pray for her, and so far she see’s her babygirl on weekends,  that’s a start,  because I never had that option.  

Her beginning logic was I have another child,  they not going to take baby, smh, and it hapoened when her baby was able to see her again, she was walking.

 I also believe I know why my Mother never addressed anything about my sexual abuse,  or try to jail my cousin, because there’s always that 1% possibility to where he got it from. 

Yea wrap your mind around that a minute.

My mother is still up to her tricks, but I’ve had no part in them for more then 11years, she has taken a whole house from another woman acting as her caregiver, placing her helplessly in a nursing home and became power of attorney over the lady’s estate letting her out once it was all done, she has since died with no family, no children, to stop anything.

I tried warning  the woman how my mother was, but of course my mother already painted her a picture of lies, so she wouldn’t listen, telling me my mother said not to talk to me,  and she died a few years afterwards, but she told her before dying she knew what she was doing. 

Well at least she knew, I guess it meant something to her in those last days.

Do some reseach in MK ultra and mind control, the tv isn’t  just programming,  but other methods as well.

I was once told I was wayward, since I’ve learned tons along my journey of being  a “wayward  and Motherless child”

Thank you very much for reading  my long still unfinished story ❤



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