Too Bad, So Sad

Here’s a question I’ve never been wanting to ask for immense fear of the answer.  What’s wrong with me? I mean really, what’s wrong with me??  Why has no one wanted me?  Was I really such a bad kid, a bad baby?  Did I cry too much?  They said I cried a lot.  As I got older, they said I was too sensitive.  Was I too ugly, too fat, top stubborn, too much trouble?

Was it because I was disrespectful to them that they hated me so much?

I remember from her… I remember my mother repeatedly telling me that “I wasn’t hers, she had no daughter, you’re not good enough to be my daughter.” Maybe that was it… Maybe it was because I had a hard time with spelling… I still remember her laughter when I made mistakes.

I remember from him… “you’re worthless!” being said over, and over and over… I never remember  “I love you”, I never remember a hug… Not that I would have wanted one anyway.  The only physical contact I remember was playing Horsey when I was a little kid (a pleasant enough game) but then the violence of the day that usually overshadowed previous joy and any chance at safety.

I never, never, remember her holding me to comfort me.  Why wouldn’t she do that?  Why was I so repulsive? Why was I so bad?  Why couldn’t I just be good?  If I were good than I wouldn’t have been tied to a bed post for over 7 hours until I apologized — never mind that I specifically recall not even knowing why I was in trouble.  But if I were “good” maybe it wouldn’t have mattered.

If I were good than maybe somebody, somewhere down the line would have wanted me.  I used to lie awake on nights when I was so young and long for the death of my parents.  I’d long for someone to come and rescue me and for a real family to be mine someday.  I’d wonder if I’d ever have the courage to be bad enough to get my parents in trouble.  (It took some 10 years for that day to come, and I still to this day feel guilt for it.)

Why have I never been good enough to keep around, good enough to be wanted by someone other than God.  The number 1 question of my adolescence respondents loud in my mind again tonight… WHY?  They would have never sold my brother, he was too good… but they sold me, so I must have been too bad.

Maybe I’m just too far gone. Intellectually I know this is all a lie, but the forceful question has still left a scar on my heart.

May this blog serve as an education to those who do not yet know or understand the atrocities of trafficking and may it serve as an encouragement to those who understand it all too well.

(Post originally written 9/22/12)

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