Tell Ruth the Truth

This is a moderated blog is a project of the Ruth Institute. Have a story to share? We're listening.


Just terrible

by Mia

So when I was four months old, my mom go diagnosed with CML. My dad kept on going to New York for work. When he was working on a movie he had sex with the girl who is 18 years younger than him. My mom found out when the baby was born.

My moms CML disappeared and the they went to court and I was 2 1/2 when I started going back and fourth. When I would go there, it was torture. I had to sleep in a very small bed. I had to share my bed with the baby.

After they were in court for two years, my moms CML came back. My mom could have died. Then my mom had to sell the house that we were living in. And we had to live in my grandmas house for six months. It was terrible. But I had to still go back and fourth. And the baby's name is Jack and Jack would have major tantrums he would bang his head against the ground and I would be in the kitchen corner crying. And they would yell, I hate it when people yell like that. Then me and my mom moved into a different house, it is huge and amazing.

My mom takes drugs for CML to stay away. My mom is healthy. But since we moved, I now live 2 hours away from my dads house. And then a year later, he got another child, named Ava. Everything changed after that. I knew something was up. At one point I slept on the couch and I also slept in a little teepee in the living room in a tiny house. Are you kidding me? And then I got and real normal bed when I was 8. And my mom is the best ever. And now I am almost 13, Jack is 10, Ava is almost 6. My relationship with my dad is not so good. I still see my dad every other weekend.

I got my helix piercing because he was in Morocco for work. I have been stealing stuff from him. And he just recently lost his watch, and I never stole it. Me and my mom are religious and I would text him and pray for him to find his watch, I would text him that I was doing that. And then he asks me privately if I stole it, I said, "No, l did not steal it. You can put a lie detector test on me."

I have been going to a therapist with my dad. I have only seen her a few times. Now, I don't see her anymore. Rachel, my step mom, is a hoar. She was also married to someone else while my dad was having sex with my dad. That is gross. And the last I went there I brought a notebook with me to write what happened when I was over there.

All of us watched Family Guy. They are insane for making us watch that. And my dad kept on staring at me. I would roll my eyes and try to show him that this is not fun, I am angry, I am pissed off right now. So then he would get mad. And then we decided to play Charades. After a few rounds, Jack and Ava were sort of fighting with each other. And Jack got sent into his room and Ava had to be carried into her bedroom and Rachel had to keep the door closed physically. I decided to go into my bedroom and I cried. I could hear yelling. Again, I hate it when people yell. It is so annoying.

The next day, Ava wakes me up and I am very angry, mad, and I had mixed emotions. Then Rachel took the kids away. I am happy about that. Then me and my dad saw Catching Fire. It was a great movie. Then we went home and an hour later I think, they come back. And I have to play with Ava. And I hate it when I have to and then my dad says this to me, "Be a better actor about it." At that moment, I wanted to kill him. Glad I had nothing in my hand because I would of used it. The the night was normal and then the next day he asked me if I stole his watch. I was so angry and I so wanted to murder him at that point. He has Peter Pan syndrome. And if you don't know what that is, look it up. And my bedroom looks like a cube. It is so tiny. Compared to my bedroom, it is huge. Pans I have my own bedroom. So that is my story.


What should I call this man?

by JVW (NC)

I distinctly remember when I was 5, trying to figure out what to call the man my mom had married. I knew my dad was supposed to be called dad, but this man was around me every day, always here, and my dad was only around from 12:30-5 every Sunday with a weekend visit once a month. It was very confusing. So, awkwardly I determined to call him "Daddy G*****", using his first name and differentiating between the two by always calling them daddy (first name inserted).

Holidays were [[[Horrible]]]]. Imagine getting to be at a party during the set up phase, and always leaving before it began, and having to open Christmas presents at 3:00 pm Christmas Eve because visitation ended at 5:30...only to be dropped off in the insanity of getting ready to go to the step-relatives house, who all think you don't really need any presents because they assume your "real" family has taken care of that, and hearing the hushed whispers from the older step relatives of how you're "so & so's girl, from the previous marriage". Step families rarely succeed at taking in the children and making them feel as if they are loved.

I never spent a Thanksgiving at my moms house. Thanksgiving was always at my dads' familys house. I only vacationed with my mom one time that I could remember; both of my "dad's" worked at plants, where they got July 4th week off. That was my assigned visitation week with my real father. So the family I lived with-my mother, her husband, my half sister and half brother, always went somewhere and I would go with my dad. It's just plain confusing.

Don't get me wrong; I appreciate that I don't have a dead beat dad. He did right by me, in that he always came on Sundays at 12:30.

He also took me to different women's houses that we would spend the night at. I would sleep in other little girls' beds, that I had just met.

And when my mom divorced my step dad--the man that I had grown to love as dearly as my father....and she married another man years later.... Well, lets just say I called him by his first name, and barely got to know him.

I have a hard time trusting people. Or believing people. I'm not really close to any of my relatives, and don't feel a strong compelling urge anymore to "be there" during supposed family crises. I used to try, but it was emotionally suicidal. It was killing me.

It has taken years for me to fully understand the impact. The complete disillusionment during childhood. The lack of belief that I was worth anything. I felt discarded. Abandoned. Lost. Orphaned. Alone. Scared. Hopeless. I had no direction. This is just a quick summary of thoughts.

The road has been hard. My husband and I have fought and struggled for our own marriage for almost 20 years, but I know we're going to make it. My own kids know it too now. It's taken the incredible grace of God to bring us to this, but it is working. God takes broken things and still uses them. Isaiah 42:3