Childhood Trauma: The truth about my mom’s abusive boyfriends

I have been debating back and forth if I should make a video about this. There is a part of me that thinks that they don’t deserve it. The other part of me just thinks I need to put it out there. Get it done and over with. So I can let it go… So here is the truth about my childhood trauma caused by my mom’s abusive boyfriends.

This is part 1 of 4.
Part 1 – My Dad’s death: It is time I speak my truth
Part 2 – Finding the lessons hidden in your trauma
Part 3 – Family Secrets: I Was Kidnapped As A Child
Part 4 – Childhood Trauma: The truth about my mom’s abusive boyfriends

Childhood Trauma

There have always been significant events that stick out for me when I think about my mom’s boyfriends there’s at least an argument or an event that happened something that involved me. Maybe something that didn’t involve me that I was just there for. Just something that sticks out in my mind. So I just kind of want to talk about that today to just get it off my chest.

I have been debating back and forth if I should make a video about this. Apart of me thinks that they don’t deserve it. The other part of me just thinks I need to put it out there. Get it done and over with. So here is the truth about my childhood trauma.

There have always been significant events that stick out for me when I think about my mom’s boyfriends there’s at least an argument or an event that happened something that involved me something that didn’t involve me that I was just there for that just like sticks out in my mind and so I just kind of want to talk about that today and just kind of get it off my chest.

Figuring out who I am as an adult

The whole point of this was to go through each significant event that happened throughout my childhood to adulthood. Like I did that with my dad’s death. I did a deep dive and I found out a lot of things about him, about my mom, and even some family members. Talked about being kidnapped by my grandparents and how it was very therapeutic to get all of that off my chest.

Originally, I was going to do that with each boyfriend that my mom had because they all played a significant role in who I am today but then I realized they don’t deserve their own videos. They don’t deserve their own blog posts. Really they don’t deserve me giving them the time of day. But I wanted to get it off my chest to just run down what events I remember of them and how it affected me and what I’m doing to change it.

I want to share the mental or emotional scars these guys left on me growing up. Just to give you a little context about my mom. Since I spent so many years with her I have learned one thing. When it comes to her “men” she needs to be needed. When it came to her kids… she couldn’t care less. She needed to be in control. Anything that she could provide for them: Money, food, cigarette, beer… she would do as long as it made her feel that she was needed. It did not matter how they treated her. So let’s get into my childhood trauma caused by my mom’s abusive boyfriends.

Dave – My mom’s new boyfriend

I talked in my previous videos and my previous blog posts about my dad’s death and a few days after my dad had died they were doing his viewing/service and my mom showed up. She came to his viewing with a 12 pack of beer and her new boo. I didn’t know that. My aunt told me that, my grandpa told me that and I heard it from someone else. So I was completely shocked by that.

Literally, a few days after my dad had passed my mom already had a new guy and Family members had to basically kind of kick her out of the viewing and said you can’t come in here with the beer. Well, that guy that she came with turned into my step-dad two years later. They dated from the time that my dad died to the time that they got married. Two years that they dated and I didn’t know that mom brought dave to the viewing.

If this would have happened when I was older, I would probably have a different outlook of Dave. But because I didn’t know that at the time… I always considered Dave to be an okay stepdad. He never talked… I don’t remember him talking at all. I don’t remember any argument or specific event that happened that made me think oh he’s not a good guy. It wasn’t until I was doing all this research about my dad’s death that everyone started telling me that dave was into drugs and apparently my mom was into drugs. She was using, but my dad got her off of the drugs. But then she met Dave she got back on them and that’s how they ended up a thing.

He might not be a good guy

When it came to Dave nothing really sticks out to me but this one situation was the day that he passed away obviously this is talking about death again. I am just going to say it… He hung himself in the garage. I was two rooms away and did not know that it happened. I found some other things out about that night that it is not my place to say it is other people’s story. But all I know for sure is that he is one of the causes of childhood trauma.

I just remember waking up to a house full of people and I’m sure I was upset by it. But I don’t remember being upset. Really I don’t remember anything about it but I’m sure knowing that my dad died and knowing that dave died that there was just the understanding that they were no longer here. I was seven when he died so I’m sure again at being two and a half when my dad died I didn’t fully understand everything but I just knew that they weren’t here and that was fine.

The dream that haunts me

The thing that has stuck with me through all these years that I think about at least once or twice a week and I don’t know why is… That after he had died I had a dream that me him and my mom went to the grocery store. I was pushing the cart and my mom and dave were in front of me. My mom had her left arm around Dave’s shoulders and they were just walking around the store. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary in my dream till I looked down in the cart. In the little baby seat area was Dave’s head. Talk about childhood trauma…

I didn’t even have a dream like that when my dad died, but had one about dave… That dream has stuck with me this whole time. I think about it all the time. That is such a messed-up dream to have. I don’t know how to not to think about it. I have only had that dream once but it still freaked me out to where I still think about it so I don’t know what to do with that.

My theory on Dave

I can’t necessarily say that dave was a bad guy. But I am putting him in the category of one of my mom’s abusive boyfriends because everyone I have talked to says Yes, he did have a temper and things did happen or they say I never liked him. He was a bad man. I don’t know that but that dream is the only memory I have of him.

The one other thing that I have to say about Dave is that I do think he had something to do with my dad’s death. Not directly but maybe indirectly or maybe he knew something. I don’t know but the way that the timeline is lining up just kind of seems a little fishy. Especially since my mom brought him to my dad’s service so they either just started dating right then or a few days after my dad died OR… they were dating while mom was still married to my dad.

It is no shock in my previous posts I said that I think that my mom killed my dad. Now I am thinking Dave was directly or indirectly involved. He might have blood on his hands. It is nothing that I can prove. All three of them have already passed so I wouldn’t be able to prove it anyway. But it’s just a gut feeling that I have that those two knew something. My mom and Dave knew something and they just wouldn’t talk about it. I do think that that’s why he took his own life.

As I get older obviously the memories are a little bit more intense. I just wanted to put that out there that this is what I think about all the time and I don’t know why. but that’s it for Dave.

Dirty Jersey Dirt Bag

A couple of years after dave’s death… my mom had a male friend come down from New Jersey. I won’t use his name and technically he wasn’t her “boyfriend”. More like a friend with benefits. eh, fuck it. His name was John. He, however, is still being considered one of my moms’ abusive boyfriends. When he came from New Jersey I didn’t think anything of it. I was just like all right this is mommy’s friend and he was cool. He wasn’t the best… but you know they had arguments and things like that. He stayed at the house for like a while.

I remember my mom getting so mad because he decided he needed to go back to new jersey. She was just so upset I remember while they were arguing because he couldn’t find his passport and his plane ticket. And I knowing full well that my mom took it because she didn’t want him to leave. She proceeded to blame it on me and my cousin Holly. He was screaming “why would the kids touch it?” Things started to get physical.

The call that saved my life

Somehow I snuck the phone to call my sister. Back in the day, we didn’t have cell phones so I had to call my sister’s house number… leave a voicemail in hopes that she called home her house and listened to her voicemail to hear the message that I left. So I had no clue if she got the message or not. My cousin and I were getting scaredbecause they were really raising their voice and just going at it.

I remember hearing him say “Where are they? Where are they? I’m gonna find them!” My cousin Holly and I hid in my mom’s bedroom behind her big recliner chair in the corner. We were hoping he wouldn’t find us but all of a sudden he comes in and grabs the recliner chair lifts it over his head like he’s gonna throw it on us and just as he’s about to throw it…

I see my brother-in-law come in behind John grab the chair from him and he throws it behind his head like it was nothing. He almost hit his wife, my sister in the doorway with the chair. But he got John out of the room before he did anything to us.

That memory sticks with me all the time. Even though nothing physically happened to me but still it was a scary experience and I don’t wish that on any child. After that, my mom ended up giving him his passport and plane ticket. He went back to new jersey and I never saw him again. That was some scary childhood trauma.

So now that we’ve talked about John we’re gonna move on to Mark. Another one of my mom’s abusive boyfriends.

Mark the drunk

My mom ended up meeting this guy named Mark online and he had come down to Florida for a visit from South Carolina but he ended up staying here a lot longer than he wanted to because when he got off the Greyhound bus he tripped and fell. He broke his leg so he had to get a cast and was on crutches then just never left. Becoming one of my mom’s abusive boyfriends.

I can say that we had some good times like I’m not gonna lie we had good times… but the bad times outweigh the good times. The memory that stands out about Mark the most is that he was my first physical adult fight. I mean he was an adult… I wasn’t I was like 16 or 17.

That was the first fight I have ever been in. I don’t know how to throw a punch, how to defend myself. Never have I had to do that before. At that moment it was fight or flight and I needed to fight so how this all came about…

You wanna fight?

Mark didn’t have a job so he was home all day. He ended up drinking almost the whole 24 pack of beer. So he was as drunk. I came home from school and took my stuff out of my bookbag to do my homework. When I went to grab a drink from the fridge and I realized there was nothing in there. So I scrounged up some change and walked to the corner store. Bought myself a 50 cent can of soda.

When I came home, he walked out of the bedroom. He copped an attitude with me telling “you need to clean up your stuff before you leave”. To which I replied, “I know I was going do my homework, but there was nothing to drink so I just walked to the corner store to get a drink.” Mark said... “I don’t care I said you need to clean up your stuff before you leave”. I tried explaining again and so he raised his voice at me saying “I don’t care… you need to learn how to respect your elders.” So me being the smart ass teenager I was I told him “First of all respect is earned not just given. Second of all I said you’re not my daddy! Quit trying to tell me what to do. Let me just do my homework.”

Well, that pissed him off…

He stormed up to me grabbing me by my throat and swings me into the standing freezer that our microwave on. When he swung me my arm went up and my elbow hit the knob of the microwave. I got a nice little gash on my elbow. He then pulled me off of the freezer to throw me into the fridge. When I hit the fridge, I hit my head and started to slide down. He grabbed me by my throat again and starts squeezing. So hard that I felt myself losing oxygen. My eyes were closing and in my head, I start screaming at myself. YOU CAN’T GO OUT LIKE THIS. MICHELE, YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING. YOU’RE NOT GOING OUT LIKE THIS.

I gathered up all the strength I could to knee him in the balls. He steps back and I pushed him so hard into the kitchen table. That the table flipped up my papers went everywhere my drink went everywhere. I worked to get the phone but he tried to grab me. I just started wailing on him. Trying to punch, kick, scratch anything I could do to get him away from me. Once again, I ended up kneeing him in the balls again and he fell to the ground.

I ran and grabbed the house phone to call my mom, who was at work. Got her on the phone trying to tell her what happened and Mark puts his shoes on grabbed his bookbag, jumps on his bike, and rides off. I tell my mom “you need to come home now!! Mark and I just got into a physical altercation. I shouldn’t have to deal with this like you need to get home now!” We hung up and she was on her way.

My eyes were closing and in my head, I start screaming at myself. YOU CAN’T GO OUT LIKE THIS. MICHELE, YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING. YOU’RE NOT GOING OUT LIKE THIS.

Michele – Our Redonkulous Life on getting into a physical fight at 17 with my Mom’s 40-something year old boyfriend.

Waiting for my mom

While I’m waiting for her to come home I see he left his cigarettes and look in the fridge for anything to drink. I found a beer in the fridge. So I grabbed his cigarettes, grabbed that beer I went and sat under our carport. She pulled into the driveway and sees me smoking a cigarette and drinking that beer. Her response was “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I replied, “whatever the fuck I want because I should not have to go through that!”

Out of nowhere, my brother pulls into the front yard screaming “Where is he? I’m gonna take him out!” I told them both he left on his bike. My mom starts defending him saying “Oh Michele is probably faking it. You know how Michele is… always overdramatic!” and I was getting so mad at her. Who doesn’t believe their OWN child and lets this type of childhood trauma happen?

The next morning

Later that night Mark came home after we went to sleep. When I woke up in the morning my mom was sitting at the table. She fixed the table and cleaned up the soda and papers. I walked out to grab my book bag and as we’re standing there in silence Mark walks out of the bedroom to use the bathroom. His face was so swollen and his lips were ten times the size of what they’re supposed to be. He’s got scratches and welts all over him. My mom’s just looking at him in awe. Mark has no clue what’s going on and says to my mom… “What?” I turn my head to look at her. Leaning over I say to her “Do you believe me now bitch?” I walked out the front door and went to school.

She has never mentioned it. Never told me that she believed me. She just dropped it. If she ignored it… it didn’t happen. That was my one and only physical fight that I have ever been in. It was the scariest thing ever. I thought that he was gonna kill me. It sucks because even though my mom has passed she never acknowledged it. She never acknowledged the childhood trauma.

When I lost all respect

I think that was the day that I was fully over her bullshit. Within a week or 2, I ended up writing “The Bitch” the poem from my last post. Just all the childhood trauma she put us through. That little sliver of “well she’s my mom you know I love her even though we didn’t see eye to eye any way you know.” I think every time she looked at me she saw my dad. I would call her out, tell her when she was wrong. Tell her that this was childhood trauma. I had opinions and because of all that, I think that I reminded her of my dad and she just couldn’t handle that.

95% of the time we did not get along and at that moment where she didn’t believe me. That completely wiped out that 5. Right then and there I knew she was a horrible person. That just solidified everything else that I thought about her. Who in their right mind can do that to their kids? And not believe them! Who in her right mind would blame her kids for stealing a man’s passport and plane ticket saying that we were playing with them? Then pretend as if no childhood trauma happened?

How it affected my relationships

The men she picked were not great. It sucks that that’s the childhood trauma type of life that I lived. Even when I ended up in a five-year abusive relationship. My mom was the one telling me to stay. I kept telling her I didn’t want to stay. Her response was always… “He takes care of you he’s such a good guy!“ I told her THAT’S BECAUSE HE IS A FUCKING NARCISSIST. He’s a narcissist everyone else thinks he is such a nice guy.

When in reality behind closed doors all he does is cheat on me any chance he gets. He’s taking other girls out on dates. Leaving me home with no food, no drinks. But to you he’s great. When I’m coming and telling you this is what he’s doing he’s still great.’ So I ended up staying with him because it was either live with him or be homeless. I did what I had to do to survive.

But then he tried to rape me. The police were no help because their response was “oh because you guys were in a relationship it kind of seems like a boyfriend trying to see how far he can get with his girlfriend”. I told them it didn’t matter if we had done it before. I was shit-faced drunk. The next day I called my mom and told her I needed to come to stay with her. She still tried to tell me how much of a nice guy he was… I told her I didn’t care. If you think he is so great… you date him. I’m done. Within a few days, I was planning to leave. I packed all my stuff while he was at work and a friend helped move my stuff to my mom’s apartment.

How my life changed

So after she bitched and complained that I was living with her. I worked my ass off. Found a job working at a rinky-dink hotel. Worked so much saving all my money. Within 6 months I moved in with a friend. I met Mike a year and a half later. Almost 9 years later Mike and I are still together.

I don’t feel bad that this happened to me. I don’t feel bad this was my childhood. What makes me feel bad is that my mother didn’t believe me. Never will I ask to change anything that happened. All the childhood trauma made me who I am today. Events like this solidified what I want from a relationship. What I want for myself and what I want from my family. I don’t have kids of my own but if my step-son and my step-daughter came to me and said something happened. I believe them a hundred percent. No questions asked… I will believe them because of what my mother did to me

How I changed or am changing

My mother poisoned every person that she has ever come into contact with. Living with her for so long I know that I don’t want to be anything like her. Reliving all of this childhood trauma and doing the shadow work has really helped me see some tendencies of my mom in me. **SKKKKKKKKRRRRRTTTT* OH NO WE ARE SHUTTING THAT SHIT DOWN. I am not doing that anymore. Changes need to happen because I do not want to be anything like her nothing. All of this childhood trauma made me a better person. This is not the type of life I want.

If you have similar issues to mine it needs to end with you and that’s the part that I’m the most passionate about. I’ve lived that life. You know the one… The life of poor me, poor me… my life sucks because of my childhood trauma. The world owes me. Everybody owes me. How come people don’t do stuff for me. That’s why my life wasn’t fucking going anywhere because I was the fucking Debbie downer. I was the negative nancy.

I can have a whole other post about the time that I decided to stop saying no and saw how much my life changed. If you want a video/blog post about that let me know I am a-okay making it.

Once I decided that I was going to be the change. That is when everything started to change in my life for the better. Am I where I wanted to be? Am I rolling in dough? Financially stable and all that… Absolutely not, but is it 100% better than what it was when I was younger. Abso-fucking-lutely and that’s the only thing that I could ask for right now!

That is it for the childhood trauma

That is it for this post. I hope you guys enjoyed it. Don’t forget to comment, like and share with anyone you think could benefit from it.

Until Next Time, Have a Great Day!