My Mother's Hypocrisy

"ok, so you are free this weekend with the exception of bringing essa, taking liz n abi to judies friday, picking up aunt tina to pick up cookies at1045am saturday, Pick up is at Larsen Transfer on Wellhouse Loop, witch is off of welsian way near the bowling alley, take my van and you can leave them in it cuz there is only 54 cases, (i accidently ordered boxes instead of cases) making sure you lock all the doors, especially the sliding one.  then taking the twins to gma and gpas so that you and essa can go to dinner at mimis, make sure you pick them up when you say you will plz.  Luv u." 


Is the email I opened after a very long week and a very long day. This is just before finals. The conversation started with me asking her about any achievements and awards I should name for a scholarship application. Instead of naming the quite of few that I've earned this year alone, she instead says that I get good grades, but I don't do Girl Scout Bronze/Silver/Gold awards like my younger sisters. However, I have explained to her more than once that the reason I refuse is because I would not get to choose the project and have to follow her orders and nothing would be of my own freedom. I have earned no respect as a child or individual from my mother. She expects me to waste gas to do errands for her while she goes down to California for a mini vacation. 
These are the things that drive me up the wall that she does

1. Assumes that I will do things that she tells me to
2. Makes me drive a gas guzzling car to run errands and doesn't pay me
3. Assumes that I even care about what she thinks about me
4. Assumes that I don't see right through her lies, manipulation and other things that a child should not have to deal with

Rape

In my young mind, sex was okay. It was natural. However, for a six year old to believe so is not a good sign. No one ever gave me the Talk, which I guess wouldn't have mattered in the end. For years, I have had to struggle to remember the things that happened before my family moved. I was in second grade when we did. At this time, my parents were battling for custody. Too busy to care much for my sister and I, they sent us from house to house from constant accusations.
As I think about it, I was once questioned by a police officer about whether or not my father touched me inappropriately. I had said no and that was that. My dad, as a single parent, did not watch my sister and I very well. We were allowed to roam the apartment complex as we wished, which caused many problems. This apartment complex for one, was not the best place to allow your children to roam unsupervised. My early childhood is very fuzzy, but now it makes sense. I repressed being raped until two years ago.
I was friends with a boy named Cody, who was the son of a drug addict with a bad boyfriend. Secretly, Cody introduced me to sex tapes at his house, but I had seen my father's already. I went over there one day to play with Cody, but him and his mother were not home. The boyfriend was there and said I could wait for them to return. I played with those army figurines and some video games. As I was playing with one of those binoculars that had the images you click, he asked if I wanted to see his puppy. I said yes, as a six-seven year old will. He reached down his pants and put my hand on his penis. He encouraged me to stroke him and he got very excited. He touched me for a moment, like he was checking something and disappeared into his bedroom. He came back and took me into the almost pitch black room. He proceeded to take off all my clothes, then laid me on the bed. I was raped after that. It hurt so bad, I couldn't even scream. Tears were shed without me knowing, it ended rather quickly when he came. He wasn't wearing a condom and my body was so sore. I started to cry now. It hurt so bad. He got dressed and gave me a bath, cleaning me carefully making sure he got all the blood and semen he could. I was given a painkiller, while he got my clothes. It took the pain away rather quickly. I was sent home after about thirty minutes.
There are two things that I notice when you are sexually traumatized; you either liked being touched or you cannot stand it. I have noticed this. Another friend that was sexually traumatized, became a sex addict once he discovered sex felt good. He doesn't care about his partners, he just wants sex. I do not want to be like that so I conquered my fear of sex, but I am not a sex machine. I am proud that I did this on my own. My parents do not understand me and I do not want them to try to.
I did understand that it was bad before I just forgot all about it. I just thought that I messed up by not enjoying it. After I had sex again, I realized that something was wrong. Then it flooded back. I cried that day, but I was soon over it. I could not change what happened, I can just move on. However, my father had me take a psychological evaluation. I told the counselor, but when I told him of the rape, he insisted on reporting it. The police did not understand that my parents might not know about the rape and to be honest, I really didn't want them to. In the end, my parents were told that they were investigating something else about Cody. Lucky me. This was reported, but I do not hold my breath on the rapist being charged. I did not remember until I realized I was not a virgin, which I had been convinced without a doubt for so long.

Sex

Most parents cringe and deny that their children will be like them and eventually have sex. Others embrace the thought and give their children "The Talk", explaining how and why to use birth control and condoms. My parents were not the best when it came to waiting for sex. Depending whom you ask, my mother was sexually active at the earliest age of 13. My father, on the other hand, loves to talk about his past and possibly future conquests. If there was a man I knew dominated by his own pleasure, it is my father.
My mother, being one of those who believes I will have sex with or without her consent or knowledge, is rather open. She was willing to take me to Planned Parenthood to get birth control, which was for my horribly painful and irregular menstrual cycle. She was the one I most avoided talking to about sex. Though she has cornered me to discuss my sex life, I tried hard not to give her any control over it.
On the other hand, my father loves to brag about his sex life. For example, he tells stories about high school. How he was able to touch his girlfriend, at the time, under their swim team parkas with a group of people sitting with them at a table. Another, is how he managed to have sex with the less than ten cases in the US, woman who have no womb or ovaries, but a vagina. He also has shared how he and my mother had "sex like rabbits" and how he'd owe the federal government just for the cost of condoms for every time. When I was driving his old car, he told me just how to have sex in the front seat, cautioning not to do it in the back seat. Recently, he made a deal with me that at an anime/scifi convention, we would rent a room, but if the do not disturb sign was up, we wouldn't enter the room, unless we really had to.
Between my parents, I became very insensitive to sex at an early age. Also, my mother chose to have a live-in boyfriend, while married to my father. This messed up how a family should be for me. I ended up deciding at a young age that I was only for few people, unlike my parents. However, around this time as well, I was introduced to pornography. My mother had refused to allow my father to watch his porn tapes in their bedroom, so they were constantly left in the VCR in the living room. When I would go in there to watch cartoons, I would watch porn. I was rather interested in it as a child. Granted, I did catch my parents in the act quite a few times. I caught my mother with my father, my mother with her boyfriend while married to my father, my father with his sixteen year old girlfriend after he divorced my mother (in the bathtub), and I could hear my father and stepmother in their room before we moved. Now that I have been sexually active, I understand how and why I was affected by this. However, this did not turn me into the sex hounds like my parents. I am committed to my partner outside sex, which is a lot for other couples my age.

Medical Habits

This isn't supposed to sound like complaining, just to be facts. My parents react to injuries differently. Mom tends to take me to the ER whenever I have an injury that she cannot take care of. I had a good ping-pong size growth under my arm, which was sliced open and drained. When it comes to medication too, she is right on top of it, making sure I had some, I got refills, my wounds got cleaned, and my inhaler stayed full. Dad, on the other hand, does not take me to the doctor unless I absolutely have to. For example, when I broke my ankle and then my foot, I went straight to the ER. However, when I had a severe cough for three months, I coughed up blood and finally went to the clinic, I had walking pneumonia. I have had one third of the breathing capacity of an adult. My father refuses to believe that I have asthma, though the doctors have tested and given me medication for it. He also refuses to believe that I am allergic to chocolate, which I have been since birth. Another thing is my menstrual cycle. I hurt so bad and my sister too. I was on birth control to help my pain and regulate it. However, he refused to help pay for the doctor's visit, so I could no longer take birth control pills. He barely even paid for that, making me take it out of my allowance.