On the other side of the balance (see my last post), there is my sexual compromise through being kneed in the crotch by my brother when I was a small child. Because I was unwanted. It showed in the physiognomy–I was born with a large mole (wart) left of nose and a white patch in the center of my lower lip, and scrawny little butt as noted in my post, Nasty Fuck. (That’s what I became in my life, even for my husband, which suited him, in the way of things.) I was to blame for being born, you could say. My brother certainly held it that way and I can see how awful it must have been for my mother, stranded alone in a foreign country in an uncertain marriage with two, two children only fifteen months apart. The first a boy and I can understand, from my own feelings about my boy-child how sensitive this relationship is, the relationship between a mother and her first-born son. and then, what?, a little girl in the mix?
But it’s not my fault I was born, I didn’t have the sex or make the marriage that made me. God did. So I could say that My parents f’d up in God’s eyes by treating me as they did, or I could take a more radical and forgiving view, that it all worked for the best for everyone concerned through the principle of God that says it always would, for those who followed Him according to his purposes.
Certainly I’ve had an incredible and astonishing life, when I look at the big picture, to set against the day-to-day screaming (which was literal in California with my husb.) But the pain for me that remains unresolved (will be the working of the rest of this blog book) goes against my mother and she’s the one who’s going to take the fall for it. Not me. This I pray in the Holy and Mighty Name of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.