I wrote these three letters last night. I read them to my father and he wept with me. I caution you in advance that these letters are filled with rage and love. They are very intense. You should not read them unless you are in a safe place.

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I chopped out the letter to Ann because it was a lie... it was filled with compassion that she simply does not deserve.

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Mother Dearest,

You once patted yourself on the back for raising me. You said to yourself you had done the very best you could and that was all anyone could ask. I am here to tell you that I am asking for more now and I asked for more then. If you did the best that you could then you are a pitiful excuse for a mother. But I know you could have done better. You chose not to do more and don’t ever tell yourself otherwise.

I had nearly released you from blame. I had almost forgiven you because you didn’t know and I believed you would have helped me if you had known. But then on the eve of your liberation I discovered two horrifying pieces of information.

You were an aggressive and domineering mother. You yelled at me all the time and you shamed me for doing what I wanted. Is it such a big deal how much cereal I eat when I get home from school, alone for two hours every day? Does it matter that I eat peanut butter out of the jar? I bet those things seem pretty silly now… something we could laugh about together. Trust me, they are not. They are just two examples of how you set me up for failure and when I failed you brought a rage that made me tremble before you. I dreaded the sound of gravel crunching under your tires.

With all of your yelling and punishing you did manage to teach me one lesson, and for that you should be proud. You taught me that, under no circumstances, was I allowed to oppose the will of an Adult. Then I met my role model. I met a man that I could trust and confide in. But above all things he was an Adult. So when his will was to rape my butt hole with his penis, again and again, how could I resist. You had trained me to submit or face your fiery wrath. I guess you want to tell me now that it would have been okay for me to assert my will in that situation. I thought it was okay for me to assert my will and eat peanut butter. You really expect that my feeble fifteen-year-old mind could unravel the knot of moral ambiguity you placed in my lap for a compass? I certainly hope that you are beyond that now. I hope that you are older and wiser for all my suffering. But with you there really is no telling. Sometimes you never seem to get it. You say that you have no guilt resulting from the suffering. That is certainly fascinating, but what really shocks the hell out of me is that you feel no responsibility. Perhaps it is time to stop lying.

I had barely had time to get my mind around this horror when I accidentally stumbled on a new horror… one that was much, much more cruel. Robert started raping me when I was fifteen and he had his way for several months. Do you remember those months? I doubt it since you suppress any feelings about a difficult time in your life. Let me refresh you memory. I was hanging out with the gothic kids at school. I was failing my classes. I was blind with rage at home. My room was a disaster and my clothes an intentional disgrace. I had given up on reaching you and had no choice but to run away. If only I could have found some trick to stay away from the damage you were all to prepared to deliver.

When I was at rock bottom, raped by Robert whenever he wanted me, without friends, and even without parents (no one can call you a parent in good conscience) you decided to package me up and send me to boarding school. At the ripe age of sixteen you banished me from the family and sent me to get my nurturing from a military school. It didn’t take long for a stronger, more cunning student to sniff me out and start raping me. Yeah mother dearest, you sent me to the safest place in the world: far away from the family.

When I came back from the boarding school you were so proud of yourself it makes me want to vomit. I was dead inside. Robert picked up the old routine, raping me at his whim. I even caught him stalking me in Hampton once. All the while you were so pleased with yourself. The rapes continued all though Virginia Tech. Even men there smelled my vulnerability a mile away. I was like a wounded animal and they caught me every time. You make me gag when you take in a stray pet… you couldn’t raise a finger for your own stray son.

Then you revealed your truly hideous nature. You actually told me that you would still love me if I were gay. What the fuck was that? Were you trying to make yourself feel better because man after wicked man had raped me for four years? You sure as hell weren’t making me feel any better. You didn’t even consider taking the time to understand the emotional hellhole that was my home. But you thought you could smooth things over by reassuring me that I could always count on your destructive love. I am tingling all over just thinking about how compassionate you can be when you try. Don’t you dare blame this on your bad habit of putting your foot in your mouth. This is about so much more than a misplaced comment here or there. This is about destroying your son’s life.

Do you remember who was at my basic training graduation? Who was waiting for me in Norfolk when I flew home from basic training? I will never forget. The only thing there was the spirit of Robert, waiting to rape me again. Not to fear… he got plenty more chances. Just imagine Robert raping mommy’s little soldier boy. Do you remember who welcomed me home from Bosnia? The only people that have a right to feel proud of me for Bosnia are the ones that shook my hand when I climbed off the plane. I guess that leaves me and some drunk girl I met in a bar that night. What was her name?

It felt so good when you forgave me the few thousand dollars you spent so I could have a car to get to school and work. I guess that pretty much makes us even so you can go back to treating wounded animals that aren’t related to you and feeling good about yourself. Maybe you want to add in all the times you took me to the beach and to the mountains camping. Do you suppose you did something like that for each time some scary man raped me and left my butt gaping and sore? I doubt it.

Go ahead and make yourself feel warm and fuzzy inside. Reassure yourself that you need feel no guilt because you bear no responsibility. I can take John as my father. My real one died at childbirth from complications with his heart. And as far as I can tell my mother died before I was five. Apparently it was an allergic reaction to mothering something real. It was no great disappointment to miss her funeral… I think I was being raped at the time.

So mother dearest, don’t take too much of this to heart. I doubt you’ll see me coming around to comfort you.

With a love that died when you did,

George

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John, My Father,

You have surely heard some humbling and awful things today. I love you very much, and I wish that I could spare you the grief that this process forces on us. I know that you feel the truth and sincerity of the two letters I just read to you. I know that you feel miserable that you stood by and allowed those things to happen to me, your only son.

But you must know that I have forgiven you completely and resent nothing. I sometimes wish that we could go back so that you could rescue us from that miserable existence we were forced to endure. You could whisk us away and we could have a happy and fulfilling life together. You could guide me through high school and arm me with the dignity to slay the dragons that tried to consume me. You would be free from the shackles of my mother dearest. I do not doubt for a second that once free you would have doted on me like no other father in the world. Those would truly have been great times for us.

You may wonder how I know that you would do all these things, and the answer is simple, and obvious at least to me. You love me like none other and demonstrate it everyday. You embrace the struggles we endure today for the time it gives us together. We both look forward with curiosity and excitement to the man I am becoming. All you needed was an opportunity to love me and when you saw it you never looked back. My gratitude for God placing you in my life will be as eternal as God himself.

The only thing you could even rationally regret is lacking the courage to create the opportunity for yourself. But I could never fault you for lacking courage. It is the virtue of virtues and who among us can claim a right to it? So forgive yourself, as I have, for your lack of courage. Embrace the moment and enjoy the miracle of life with me. Given the choice a thousand times I would choose you every time. It is your strong hand I want to hold as a child and it is your shoulder I lean on as a growing adult.

For all my pain, anger and suffering, I am still in God’s debt that he saw fit to give me such a parent as you. It gives life meaning and it gives me hope like nothing else in the world. You are a pillar of stone to me, and if you are a little rough around the edges, you are all the more beautiful for it.

With a love only a son can give his father,

George

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I am so greatful that this place has helped me find the courage to face with brutal honesty the feelings swirling inside me. Thanks for sharing this scary time at the beginning of my journey. You are truely wonderful friends, all of you.

Wranger you are indeed an brave young man. Not only that but you are determined to move on to actually live life to the fullest. That is a huge accomplishment and one you should be proud of. I can read the pain in those letters.

I too was shipped off to school to make a man of me. And like you it certainly did not do that for me. It damned near killed me so many many times.

You seem to have a wonderful father and that you two are very close and that is really nice to hear.

Keep it up Wrangler you are moving in the right direction.

Dear George,

Thank you for having the courage to post your letters. I think that you have made a big step. Reading your letters really helped me to make a big decision. For the last year I have been on many websites, read several books and just in the last few days have spoken to many different therapist in an effort to help my husband. However, I really have not told him what I have been doing because I was affraid of his reaction or that it might be a triger. He never wants to discuss any of this with me. From all of the information I have seen I can understand the hopelessness and the despair . This week I hope to get him on this site because I think that you guys are great! Thank you for giving me the courage to get involved in my husbands treatment.
I wish you the best of luck. I believe that you are stronger then you think.

George,

Those were indeed brave and heartfelt letters. They were well writen and the pain, sorrow, guilt and shame were felt, as well as the steps forward.

Keep up the healing process.

Bill

George
I might sound like the wrong thing to say, but I think you are are so lucky.

What you describe here is inspirational, you have a rare and wonderful thing there.

Dave

George
I might sound like the wrong thing to say, but I think you are are so lucky.

What you describe here is inspirational, you have a rare and wonderful thing there.

Dave

Wow. These are unbelievable. As I said before, I wish I could reach through the computer and give you a hug right now. Your experience reminds me so much of what my boyfriend (now my fiance) went through, my heart just aches.... I'm sitting here at my desk with big tears in my eyes!

So many times I think "there but for the grace of God go I" as I had the same type of father that you describe in your mother.. domineering, moody, unstable, overbearing, aggressive, controlling (alcoholic, depressive, mentally unstable.. need I go on??)... how there's nothing on earth that can ever make him happy. You'd think that my recent news about my BF popping the BIG question (We became fiances on Sept 6!!) would have made him happy, but all he can do is focus on "how much it will COST him (we never asked for any $$ support.. initially when he heard the news my mom offered $$, now my dad is getting mad at me for it!!)".. anyhow all that's to say that I think of how close I too have come to being taken advantage of/victimized as a lonely and lost teenage girl with NO paternal affection or support... just for some reason it just didnt happen - although I came close several times....

Your writing is so amazing - demonstrating a lot of anger but its targeted in the right places. And from what you have written it certainly doesn't sound like your wife is truly in this relationship for "better or for worse" or really has your best interests in mind. She does sound like its "all about her" - unfortunately there are all too many people who dont understand that marriage is a GIVING thing. I dont know if its a "young woman" thing (early 20's) but I see it all the time. I have to admit that I may not have been able to understand/support my fiance when I was a much younger woman. Unfortunately, I had to go through a few nasty breakups in order to learn things the hard way too - that I had to do as much giving as receiving, and sometimes even more giving when rough times were around.


PAS


(PS I'm 33 years old and I *still* eat peanut butter right out of the jar!)

To Wrangler,
I just read your recent post here, the letters to your family. I think it took great courage to address the things you spoke of here with your feelings bared for the world to see. I think it was written with great honesty. I heard both the young lad of fifteen and the adult you are becoming speaking here and I thank you for having the strength to post as you did here. My brother just revealed to me last week that what everyone thought was an attempted SA episode was not just "attempted" but actully carried out fully. He was 10 at the time and it was a family "friend", a cop in uniform no less! The bastard was arrested but did no time as he was placed in a mental institution and "rehabilitated". He was not charged in my brother's "attempted" molestation but was charged with another young boy's molestation. It has taken my brother 38 years to tell me and our mother, he also told his wife of twenty years. During the time he was opening up, when I thought he was to a point of being able to hear the truth I also revealed to him my own SA. I was molested by an uncle from approx. age 2 1/2 till I was almost nine. There were several attempts by him after that but I fought him off long enough that someone would unexpectly walked in and he did not have time to get to me. So I understand sexual abuse from a females point of view ( I am dealing with it and so have support) but this is more about my brother. I am only 14 months older than him but I will eternally be the "big sister." I have pulled a few articles for him and ordered two books from this site but I was wondering if there is anything that you can think of that has helped you that I might try and obtain for him? He does not have a computer so I am driving myself mad trying to find things for him to read that will enable him to stay strong and let go of the guilt and shame he is still consumed with. I know time is most likely the answer and you would be the first person I have ever known that can manufacture that, LOL, (Who want's to be a millionaire???) but if there is anything I can do in the mean time to help him along his way I would appreciate you sharing that knowledge with me. I know it's a path he has to go down himself but I would like for him to know that should he ever need me I am here for him. Also, would you mind if I printed your post for him to read? I think it would help him understand some of the anger he is feeling now? Thank you for any help you can provide. A caring sister

PAS

This is a hard letter to write today. I am very sad and the last few days have been nearly unbearable. I did my very best to detach from my childhood so that it would have no influence over me as an adult. Judging by my behavior during my marriage I did not have very much success keeping the influence out of my life, although I still made a mighty effort at just that.

Recently, my therapist has unlocked a few mental doors to childhood. Through those doors I have started to reconnect with the child I have tried so hard to keep at a distance. The pain and fear are so intense that they seem unreal. At times I feel as though I am just going through the motions. A great deal of the time the only thing I feel is a deep ache somewhere inside. Part of that ache is some kind of abstract fear… but I am really not sure what I am afraid of, and anything I suggest as a reason for the fear sounds made up.

So that is my life right now… a deep soul ache and a fear I don’t understand and can’t accept. It is punctuated by moments of intense emotion, like the anger you read in my letters. Sometimes it is unbearable sadness. Sometimes loneliness. But these punctuations of emotion are always short lived and then it is back to the ache that is ever-present and the fear without source.

My cat keeps me company during these times. She loves me in spite of myself. I wish that she could teach me how do love as she does. I wish that my wife had loved me in spite of myself, but it is hard to hold that against her. We all have limitations somewhere… it’s part of being human. There are times here and there when I become swallowed up in a dream where we take another chance on each other. In the dreamy second chance we don’t measure how much work one person does or judge the other person for what they say or do. In the dreamy second chance we embrace this painful struggle for the time it give us together and for the strength it ultimately imparts to our union. But it is just a dreamy second chance… I find myself hoping for it less and less.

I look forward to your posts… they always make me smile. Your internet hugs are warm and I can feel your compassion even from here. You and your fiancé understand what it is like to feel as I do now, and that helps ease the loneliness sometimes. And I take some comfort knowing I have a sister in peanut butter.

But the ache is still there and the fear stares back at me.

George