My Coconspirator Mother

The open secret was that my mother gave me to my father to sexually abuse so that she didn't have to have sex with him.

I could sit in the living room and look at her knowing she expected me, her teen daughter, would sexually satisfy her husband, my father, and save herself from such indignity. She knew. She sanctioned. She handed me over to him for his use, all the while lying to herself that either she didn't know he was molesting me, or that by having sex with me, it saved my brothers and sisters from being his sexual victims as well.

I wonder if mom knew he raped all of her children, including her precious, never-do-wrong sons. Probably not because she would have never continued to live with him if she thought he had defiled those worthy of love and protection, her sons. Daughters were nothing but garbage and trash but sons, well, that was mighty different.

I wonder if mom knew about the child prostitution when my sister and I would go to "parties" on the West Side of town, and sexually service groups of men my father gathered. Did mother question where we would disappear to at night? Did she wonder about the sudden large sums of cash and bags of groceries brought home by her unemployed husband?

I'm not usually a vengeful person but lately I've struggled to not write mother a letter telling her all these things.

I want her to hurt. I want to be the one to hurt her, to force her to drop the lies and hear the truth. I want her to feel the pain of her sins, guilt and despicable actions. Her greatest pride was being a mother to very large brood. Her greatest sin was knowingly neglecting and prostituting them.

Did she know her husband was training her two oldest boys to be just like him? With lessons in how to seduce, molest and sexually use others? That was a mighty fine homeschool you allowed to happen, mommie dearest.

To this day, I cannot imagine how my siblings ignore, deny and overlook her crimes. 

God, what children won't do to try and win a mother's love!

Egads, the "love", the semblance of love and care from a cold, heartless bitch can cause an adult with the unmet needs of a child to drastic measure.

Pity the godless, vile thing disguised as my mother. I don't know how she became so broken and warped, and frankly I do not care. May her sins haunt her day, night, alive and dead. 

The lives she's ruined. The childhoods destroyed. The neglect and abuse she passed on to another generation, no two. What a legacy, you bitch. Rot in Hell with your husband. 

I do not love my mother, a woman who could not bring herself to love me.