No More Broken Wings

I am trying to be creative and interesting in my introductions. I am tired and worn out from the life of terror I have lived. I have cried rivers and oceans of tears and the tears never seem to dry up.

So I bring another victim into this fray. I want to introduce you to my son John*. John is a wonderful young man, barely into adulthood stretching his wings and looking for his true love, his place in life.

I will not go into the details of my early life with John's biological father. At 16/17 I had more common sense sadly in some ways than I did with Emily's father. At the first sign of battering and abuse, I walked away, taking what was left of my dignity and pride. Little did I realize that I also took away a piece of John's father inside me. Barely an adult myself I was carrying a brand new life inside.

I reveled in the absolute amaxement I felt when the first movements came from John. The little fists that would run circles around my abdomen. I was so huge and so obviously pregnant. Everyone said I waddled like a beanpole who had swallowed the proverbial watermelon. I had many who proclaimed I would never make it, I was too young, too immature to bring this life into the world. But that mattered none. After living the life I had filled with abuse, I swore I would be different. This little child growing inside of me would never get hurt, he or she would never suffer the pain and anguish I had suffered. Everything I had would be his. And for a few short years it was.

The years of confusion, terror, and abuse I suffered caught up to us however. But that will be in many more posts to come. John is back and while we can never recover those years, we can move on and rebuild from here. John and Emily can build something good and be free from abuse. Maybe......

(see next post)

Labels: Abuse, Emily, John, Siblings