child abuse

since I was diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome a few months ago I've spent some time reflecting on my life through a new set of self-awareness glasses. although nothing in my past life has changed, it all feels different because the context in which it was experienced has been altered.

my childhood was confusing and at times horrifying. there was no feeling of security, no feeling of being sure I was loved. for a while I was convinced that the reason I felt unloved was that I was adopted. snooping through family documents assured me that was not the case. in fact I found out that I was conceived before my parents married. as an adult, I wonder if their relationship would have lasted more than a few months if it wasn't for that fact.

as it was, they stayed together about four years and had another daughter 18 months after me.

I've had so much to write about lately, but a great deal of fear over committing it to writing and sharing it publicly, mostly because my life, and the lives of my children, have been upended and shaken during the last few months and saying anything during the court-ordered family evaluation seemed unwise at best. I was also in the process of getting myself assessed for an autistic spectrum disorder. I am one of those individuals that falls into the part of the spectrum called Asperger's Syndrome. as it turns out, my son is one, too. more on that another day; back to the subject at hand...

yesterday was Mother's Day. I taught my small one how to slice strawberries so she could make me breakfast. I spent time with my kids planting corn and landscaping and did my best to be gracious about Mother's Day sentiments.

I'm not a fan of most holidays. I find the overwhelming requirements of any holiday that purports to recognize someone based on their role in your life to be fairly unreasonable. we're all told who we should honor and how, setting up expectations on both sides that aren't practical. still, yesterday I wished I had a mother to honor. I have a mother, but I haven't spoken to her in a dozen years and I don't plan to in the future.

in spite of my no-contact policy with her, the simple fact that she exists has led to several interesting developments this past week.

it's like a broken record.

"I was wrong to do that".

amazing how things change in two short months.

I did write to Ronda. I took a chance, hoping that I'd find a cooperative ally in a divorced mom raising a boy on her own. I gave her our background in a four page letter, and asked her not to come on visitation trips.

then she emailed me, and I learned some things... they'd been living together for six months and were engaged to be married. that he'd confessed everything to her, even the abuse. she knew he owed me a lot of money and expected him to pay me back.

I was left in wonderment over how gullible we females are. what is it in us, that when a man says "yes, I lied, stole, hit my wife and neglected my kids, but I really want to change" that we want to take him under our wings and nurture him into being a whole person?

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH US???