“I was molested when I was 12 years old and you know what was the worst part of it? My mother did not believe me and she tek me and send me away and continue to live with she husband. But it didn’t last. The whole thing bruk up because he was a drug addict and a criminal and me mother put he in front of me.”
This young woman, who is now a mother herself, sometimes still relives that horrific period of her childhood.
“Sometimes I does sit down and think about that time and I really can’t believe me mother would treat me like that,” she said sadly. “She is a woman and she mek me and you know when I look at me children and I can’t believe I would do something like that to them.
“And now she and none a she children does get along. She does live alone. Nobody don’t want go and live with she. And even when you try you know is always something. I does wish she was just a better mother.”
I met this young woman while compiling information for a story I was intending to write and after a few conversations she started to share certain information.
“I could remember like it was yesterday when it was me and me little brother alone home with he. And this man send me brother outside to play and is just so he collect me and carry me in de room. I didn’t even become a young lady yet, and what he do to me was so painful, I never feel so much pain,” she recalled.
“When he done he tell me don’t tell me mother and is was like if he was laughing at one time when he say even if I tell she that she wouldn’t believe me. And so, I didn’t tell she at first, but it was hurting me so bad that I tell me sister and is she tell me mother.
“Me mother ain’t even say anything really to me she just like look at me but she tell me sister how she carrying me to the hospital. That woman just catch a bus and is like we went down to town walk around lil but and then she carry me back home. She tell me I must go bed and catch me bed.
“I don’t know if she even ask de man anything but just like two days after she send me and me lil brother away to we father family to live. And to tell you de truth it was at we grandmother and she use to treat we so good. You would think that I would miss me mother but never. We used to go to school good, good, and so. But then me grandmother dead and me mother come and tek we back.
“I didn’t really want to go back but she went to welfare and all kind a thing and say that we aunty that was looking at wee, we can’t look at we. And is back with she we had to come back. By then she and she husband done break up and he was like living on de street.
“You would think she would treat we good, but we hardly use to get thing fuh got to school. She would give sometimes a $100 to go to school and we must walk and go, and de money was to buy something to eat. Nuff days we hungry. I used to really miss living with me father family,” she told me.
“And because of how she use to treat me, like I don’t know I was looking for love and I just get pregnant early. He and me was same age and now we marry but sometimes I does say I start life too early, you know. I didn’t get to really live out me young days because I had baby. I don’t regret me children but sometimes I wish me mother was a better woman and I know things woulda be better.
“All I does pray for is that I could be a better mother to my children. That is all I does ask God for. I don’t want to be a mother like me mother. And even though she getting old is like she not changing. None a she children want anything to do with she but yet this lady ain’t seeing.
“I don’t know if I love she, but I don’t hate she. Is that sometimes I don’t get no real feelings. She don’t treat me children bad, but she don’t go out she way for them neither. I don’t wish her anything bad, but I wish that one day she could see what happen to me and just say sorry,” she said sadly.
Sadness and longing permeated many of the conversations we have had about her mother. She wants, maybe needs a better relationship with the woman she calls mother.
“I know you must be think like a burdening you but sometimes I does just want somebody to talk to. Me husband don’t understand certain things and I ain’t really get no friends and is better I tell you. You know, like you don’t really know me…,” she said one day after she had shared a lot.
I told her it was fine. This sister asked me if it was okay for her to contact me via WhatsApp from time to time and I agreed but I also attempted to set some boundaries. I made sure she understood that she could not call me at all hours in the day and definitely not at nights. There is no doubt that I am sometimes affected by these pieces I write, but I do try to ensure to self-care, as I know how important that is.
But as I have said before, as sisters we need to give each other a listening ear as it is needed. I know we have our own lives and we are consumed by them, listening once in a while will cost us nothing.
This sister now has a life of her own and I believe she is on her way to healing. I can only wish her all the best and hope that eventually the pain will lessen.
