For the first part of my life, I was despised. I was told I was worth nothing. Nothing. I believed that because I was treated that way every day of my life by those around me. One year my brother gave me a turd for christmas. I was 7. I got him a dungeon and dragon book (my mom let me pick him a gift, and I knew he liked to play that). My gift was wrapped in foil, I opened it and cried. It turned out to be a chocodile (a twinkie covered in chocolate), squished up in the foil. Turd or chocodile, it was no gift, my brothers all laughed, and that was a typical event in my childhood.

My mom told me it was my fault. It was always my fault they treated me this way. She said I reacted like I'd been hurt, and they could see it in my face so they enjoyed making me feel this way. If I could control my face, and not react, they would quit torturing me. Guess how well this worked? It did not work at all, however, I have mastered masking what I think from showing in my face.

I always thought that if I was nice enough, they would like me. I have always sacrificed myself this way, I just want to get along. I will accommodate nearly any behavior against myself and still try to get along. I have learned that resistance is futile, so I try to make friends with the enemy. This also never worked, the enemy still tortured me, but got sneakier in how they did it.

I guess most of my life I have been trying to prove that I was worth something. However, no matter what I do, they tell me its not worth anything. When I was a child, I was very good at school, I loved to go, and I was smart. They said school was dumb and that I was not smart. I could see what I thought and “reality” were not the same, but they would still torture me, so I believed them more.

A lot of my life has been that way too. I could see things were wrong but not why. How do you fix something everyone else ignores is broken. I was a child, I had adults pretend like nothing was going on, that it was my fault, I couldn't escape it so I hid. I hid in every way I could figure out.

Things would have gotten better as my brothers left home, but when my oldest brother turned 18 and left to bootcamp, I was being molested by the next door neighbor, and no one noticed. Two years that went on before my mother finally noticed. She did something at least, called the police, stopped it. We moved. Nothing happened to him. I didn't like school any more, I quit going for a few months. I refused. Mom let me stay home. I have no idea how I spent my time, reading probably. I had escaped into reading a lot by then.

We moved again and mom made me go to school again. It was awful, and I hated everything about it. I was no longer a good student, and I had no idea what was going on. I got bad grades the first term and decided that was enough and I would work harder. School was the only thing I was good at, I couldn't lose that.

My brothers weren't out of the house really, they like to think they were, but they were there until mom and dad kicked them out when I was 13. That was when we moved into the camp trailer. There was 3 of us kids in there with mom and dad. That also lasted for over a year, but not as long as two. I spent as much time away from home as I could. I spent the night at my friend's house as much as I could. I would go to her house and read. I read like crazy at this point in my life, and for a good number of my teenage years. It made coping easier.
I got into trouble a bit through here, shoplifting and doing other dumb shit. Being poor here and not having a place to live during this time of life did nothing to negate the feelings I had about being worth nothing. I felt like nothing as much as ever. We moved into an apartment finally, but I was still being tormented occasionally by my brothers, not sure how frequently but I do recall specific instances.

Mom decided to go to church and that we all had to go. Church was the first place that told me I was worth something. If I did certain things, and tried really hard, everything would turn out ok. I clung to this, and truly put everything I had into it. I became exactly what I was told would heal me. And for a time, and in a way I was truly saved.
I was poor though, and mormons don't really like poor people. My family was never really accepted, just used. A very familiar feeling, somehow being used to that didn't make me suspicious at all. And there is a theme in my life so far. Never really accepted, just used.

I married someone fitting that idea as well, in the temple. I was disappointed shortly after my daughter was born. This was I realized my marriage was crap. My husband quit any pretence of being nice. He did not help with our daughter at all. He said he did his share, he worked and made the money. I was expected to do everything else. I was ignored and again treated like nothing, unless he wanted sex, but he wasn't nice about he, he would demand and throw a fit if I said no. He threw such a fit for the entire time I nursed our daughter until at 9 months I could take no more and quit nursing. He was jealous of her.

Our child turned out to be autistic, but we didn't know there was anything wrong till she was 2. I fought with him for everything for her, he didn't ever want to spend any money on her, and I mean for therapy and schooling. That was some of our biggest fights.

We were married for 11 years. I got out of the church before I got out of the marriage. The abuse has been in every aspect of my life. I did not care about myself at all for a very long time. I gained a bunch of weight, got up to 208. I was disgusted with myself at that point. I had quit going to church a few years before I resigned. It made me feel guilty for not going at first, but it was such a fight to get everyone to go every week, it was too much effort.

I felt lied to. Everything I had believed turned out to not be true. The reason I came to these conclusions is because I did not have anything turn out like I was promised. I did everything I was supposed to do. I was practically as molly mormon as they come for a good long time. Nothing turned out like I wanted, I was in exactly the same situation I grew up in. I was not saved, I was not worth anything to my husband, everything was wrong and I thought for a long time it must just be me. Everyone is telling me this is the way it is, and I am just wrong, I have no value.

I came from a mormon family, my parents are both active members, and mom grew up in an abusive family as well, every bit as much as my own if not more so, as did her mother. They were all mormons too. That is just a fact.

I wish I could say at what point I decided everyone else was wrong and I was worth something. It was a gradual process, but I do think rejecting the church was the first step. Once I realized that was false, everything else started falling into place.

I have felt as bad about myself for as long as I can remember, there was never a time when I felt like I had value. I keep hoping to prove to everyone around me that I do, but that has not worked either. Any accomplishment is denigrated and has always been. There is no impressing these people so why do I care?


I have come to the conclusion that the only thing I can do is please myself. So now I do the things that I want, the things that I think will make me happy. Sometimes I am right and sometimes I am wrong, but at least they are my own ideas. When I am right, I keep doing those things and I feel better. When I am wrong I stop doing those things and try something else.

I feel like I am climbing a mountain, but it seems like everyone else started at different places. How did I get stuck below ground for so long? I finally feel like I'm almost to the base of the mountain, almost to ok, but then I have to work to climb the mountain and I just feel so far behind. There is so much work to do, I am at such a disadvantage. In the last few years, I have finally acted on things that I wanted for myself. I never felt like that was ok before. I feel like I have come a long way and worked pretty hard to get here. I do love my job. I am proud of what I have accomplished there, everyone told me it was a stupid idea, but I did it anyway and now I work in one of the best hotel restaurants in my city. I have a long way to go there, but I am enjoying the journey, it has been a lot of fun so far.

I am proud of myself for losing weight. I got all the way up to 208 pounds, but I am down to 138, and have kept the weight off for 3 years now. I will never do that to myself again. I am trying to be kind to myself.

I have finally realized what drew me in to the church though. I hadn't been able to figure that out and that has bothered me a lot. I wish I had not been a part of it, but I can finally forgive myself for how I got duped. It was a pack of lies, and it never actually helped me. I feel like it did in some ways but in the end it perpetuated the abuse for years. At least I figured it out. I thought my way out of the box, I never realized it was there. I know now there are other boxes, and I haven't figured out how to get out yet, but I know they are there and that is always the first step.