Part 2

A Duck That Becomes a Jaguar -originally posted may26-21

I was born out of hate, not loved, not wanted, never part of my family that I was born into. I always could feel it, didn’t understand it, but I knew it. Then my mother told me, I was 9 yrs old when she did, my mother told me that I was supposed to be a boy, not a girl. That I was a disappointment to my father for being born a girl and my mother said this to me with such hate in her eyes for me instead of any love. And this is my mom saying this- who is supposed to love me too as she did my brothers. I could feel such resentment, even before she actually told me, I could feel it, such hate from a mother and father that was supposed to love me as their child, not love me only because I am a son, but that I am there’s. I always felt inside though that I still want to be good, to love, to be loved,  –even though I never felt that from my parents, I still knew somehow that it was so important, important to me, to be loved, to want to be loved.To not be like my father and mother. My father was consumed by the securing of his future, by his sons. To continue his way of life, his view on reality, his hate into the world. His hate onto women. His hate now onto me. His hate onto his own wife. My mother didn’t even matter to him and what’s sad is my mother believed, or I think she had to believe to keep her her own sanity; that he did love her, but there was no love, she was his triumph, his first dog. Dog #1.  He was king of his castle. Who was gonna stop him, she was his property now, and so where his kids. Do what he says or else.

I would remember trying so hard not to be a girl, so my father would love me, to do the same work on the farm as a boy could do, to not show weakness, to not show one tear. I would even dress more as a guy, (although was pretty easy my parents would give me hand me downs. I was 16 before I got my own pair of actual jeans that where new and I had to buy myself). I would not wear any pretty clothes, not liking the color pink. Acting like I think he would want me too; tough, so I could have his approval, his approval to my life. For an approval that was never there.

My father would make sure my brothers would learn, he would even help them with their homework. But I could listen, learn by listening, trying to learn math so much; I new math was important to my father and when I had the answer and my brothers didn’t I would yell out the answer. My father would be shocked and then would finally pay a little attention to me. He would even let me sit on his lap. But it wasn’t to show me love it was to show my brothers that they failed. Because soon, sitting on his lap meant a whole different form of punishment, my punishment, for thinking I was loved.

I had 3 brothers, one died at birth (because my father beat my mother so bad), my brother Keane, now as Father Andrey – a wolf disquised as good (his name my father gave him was Keane Karry Kachur – KKK), they try to hide that now. And my brother Chris, who is even his son, but could not be like my father, he was a good brother, a great brother. Although I wish I would have realized that he was in pain too from what my father did to him, I will always be sad for that. Once you don’t do what our father tells you do to, you are of no importance to my father; to be treated no better than what he did to his 14 year old wife, my mom. To how even her family tried to not let the marriage happen, and I mean by actual fist fights to keep such a monster away, away from their daughter that they loved. How such a monster, who drove a school bus that picked up children, who was 15 years my mom’s age, had all the time, every day to brainwash and train his new dog. How a man that is supposed to be a man already, taking your children to school, and yet abusing his position to create and find women to abuse, to put hate upon. She didn’t have a chance. Once he put to his mind it is her that he will focus on, how is she to see such a monster, to know what he is trying to do to her, she is a child of 13 not thinking of hate, (he is almost 30), when we are told that those around us are here to protect us. Every day he is influencing her in a negative way without anyone knowing until it is too late. Why in the fuck is a man even doing with a child - ever. That is disgraceful all in its self. And yet now our society; you, you let it happen. This is what you want to live in? Hate? Filth? Where that filth creates so much harm. And if you say it doesn’t affect you, open your eyes and look around at where it is. How can you say it doesn’t affect you. What did it take for you to look the other way, in your own community, in your own family, to not care about those you are supposed to love? How can one asshole of a man ruin so many lives and infect a community from love onto hate. There are some people that just want to hate, it’s that simple; but why are you letting them make that choice for you too.  As a child I didn’t know that wasn’t normal – we are kids – we believe what we are being told from our parents, and from those that say they love you. I lived a life of everyone’s hate. And all I wanted was to love, be loved.


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