As I lay there starving in the bed staring around the empty room lined with cobwebs in all of the corners, I thought to myself, why doesn’t anybody love me? I constantly struggled with the now chopped up and somewhat matted ponytail strands that kept tickling my face. A couple days prior I took an old pair of scissors to my rats nest. My mother was more focused on getting attention from all the men she was seeing and failed to spend time brushing my hair or bathing me. So, without hesitation I took the scissors to my hair and just began to chop away at the strands that were constantly in my face and eyes.
At the time I was three. We moved from place to place considering my mother lived off the state and could never afford the rent. We eventually settled in a small trailer on the side of a dirt road in the middle of this rural town. My room was a room shared with various men my mother had sleep over and mooch off her state checks. I had a small twin bed with a dirty old mattress and very old sheets. The room was small, smelled of must and cigarette smoke. In the room was a bed, a lamp, and that’s it. No toys for me to play with or photos hung on the walls. Just a bed and a dim light that managed to create scary shadows around the room.
Prior to this I had gone to my mother’s friends house and I had seen the children’s rooms adorned with toys, photos, pops of pink and purple. The rooms were inviting, fun, and filled with love. Laying in this bed and looking around the room I could only wonder why my room was nothing like that. This day was like every other day. I would wake up to the sound of my stomach growling and typically get up and climb on the counters to get myself some dry cereal from the cabinet in the kitchen, but I knew I would inevitably get punished like every other day if I tried. So… I just laid there wondering why no one, especially my mommy, didn’t love me…..
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My mother had previously given birth to a son who she turned over to her sister because she could not raise him. The agreement was that my aunt would raise him and my mother would still be active in his life as the title “aunt”. In February of 1986 my mother got married to her then long time boyfriend. Shortly after they were married, he was shipped out and stationed at an Army base out west, my mother soon followed. The events that followed that are unclear.
My mother returned to New York pregnant with me and no longer in a relationship with her husband. December 1986 I was born. Newly divorced, my mother moved from apartment to apartment with her various boyfriends, lived with my grandparents for some time, and then settled into a small trailer off a dirt road in western New York a few miles from the Pennsylvania border. My mother struggled with her own diagnosed mental illnesses and family trauma and therefore struggled raising me. She had no money, no job, and lived off a fixed income from the government. My mother always took in all her friends, feeding and sheltering them with the money that was supposed to be used to take care of herself and me. I was kicked out of my room to sleep on the couch most of the times. She had several men come in and out of the home while I was there. Sometimes I was forced to spend nights with various men in my bed most of which did horrible things to me. My mother frequently left me with friends and family members while she went out. There was this one guy in particular who used me sexually for various reasons. Other times men and women would do things in the room while I was present. There were even a few occasions my mother would also join in on the activities. Most of the time I just tried to pretend I was asleep.
On a few occasions while my mother was out, she left me at one of her “friends” apartments. I distinctly remember he gave me big red gum every time I came over, it was my favorite. He was polite and kind from what I remember. One day while I was in his apartment bedroom, watching TV on the floor, he went over to the television and shut it off. He then came over to me and advised me to perform acts that I didn’t understand. Obviously as a three-year old I was unaware of what this was, and I fully trusted this man. I resisted a bit but ultimately did what I was told. He then explained to me that the things that happened there were our little secret and things that should not be told to other people and I would get more big red gum as a result. To this day, the smell of big red gum gives me flashbacks.
My mother was usually so preoccupied with her friends and various relationships, that she did not have time to focus on feeding and bathing me. My Aunt would try to put my hair up in a pony tail when she saw me, but this was only once or twice a week. There was this one night I could not sleep because my hair kept getting in my eyes so I got up and shaved part of it off so it would not be in my way anymore. Needless to say, I got in a lot of trouble for this.
My mother eventually found another boyfriend who she eventually married. Within a short period of time he moved into the trailer with us. I remember on countless occasions I would be really hungry, so I used to climb onto the small kitchen counter and grab boxes of cereal and I would eat straight out of the box. I was caught various times by my step father. He would beat me and tell me I was not supposed to be climbing on the counter and that I was a terrible child with no manners and I needed to be punished. He would force me to sit on the couch until my mother returned home. At times this would go on for hours. I was not allowed to move to go to the bathroom, to eat, or play with my toys. The repercussions if I did meant more beatings so I just sat there hungry and dirty in fear of what would happen if I moved. I do not remember his face, but I can still remember the smell of cigarettes and alcohol on his breath.
One morning I woke up and I was so hungry I went to my Mom’s room only to find two men and some woman in the bed sleeping. My mother stayed somewhere else that evening. I was going to make myself food, but in fear of spending another day confined to the couch, I decided to try to walk to my grandmother’s house which was just a few miles down the road. So, in my small dirty t-shirt and an old pair of shorts, I climbed out of an open window and started my journey down the snow-covered dirt road. Shortly after I started walking a passer-by saw me and that I had no shoes and barely any clothes on so they pulled over to investigate. I was brought back to the trailer where I was severely punished for leaving. The stranger did report the events to the police (who apparently knew me from previous escape attempts) finally got social services involved. The first time around the judge just ordered my mother to not leave me with any man outside of my grandfather. But, after a few other reports the judge agreed enough was enough. The judge had learned that besides having experienced numerous sexual and physical abuse, I was previously found escaping down our old apartment fire escape numerous times and was found wandering the local streets. So, with this new information and the knowledge of me walking the dirt roads to my grandmothers on occasion that enough was enough.
I am unsure of the exact events that followed. I remember being told that I was going to live with my grandmother’s sister and her husband and I was confused as I did not know who these people were. I remember being really afraid and sad. I later learned that social services were brought into the situation and they advised my mother that if someone in the family did not take me then I was going to be put into foster care. My grandmother knew her sister had got married and had children that were much older and her and her husband wanted a child of their own. They seized the opportunity to take me promising me a much better life.
I came down late December 1991 just after Christmas and right before my 5th birthday. The next year of my life was a cluster of social service appointments, mandated psychiatric counseling, and various court proceedings over custody. My mother claimed I was the daughter of her first marriage and the court had brought in her ex-husband to take DNA tests. I remember being brought to the Westchester County Courthouse and brought me up the elevator to some small office. A woman sat me down and told me she was going to draw some blood and that it wouldn’t hurt outside of a small pinch. After a four vials of blood were taken I was advised one more was remaining. The woman started a conversation with my Aunt and neglected to watch what she was doing. One of the vials either broke or leaked and blood got all over the desk and on her paperwork. She apologized repetitively once she saw my look of terror. Some time elapsed (I do not remember how long exactly) but ultimately, we learned he was not my father. My mother then was forced to sign me over to her aunt and uncle and granted them legal guardianship. She would not however agree to allow them to fully adopt me as she did not want to let me go. So I was considered a ward of the state until the age of 18.
So I began my life in my new home with my new family….
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