Cheeky tricky liars.


There are things in life we keep from others. When we keep things from someone that we love most often times it is to keep them from being upset or protecting them or there is just no need for them to know. For example; My daughter does not need to know all the details of abuse that I endured. Nothing good would come of it. It would upset her greatly. My daughter may not need to know that one of my friends stole from me. Nothing good would come of it, it would upset her because she is looks up to this person, etc. We use our discretion in opening up and disclosing certain facts to the people that we love.

There is a difference and protecting someone you love from something that may hurt them, and intentionally tricking, manipulating, and lying to someone. Being tricked, manipulated or lied to is something I struggle coming to terms with and letting go.

It has been a little over a year since my family had what seemed like the drama of the century. It started with a little fire cracker and ended up in full blown fireworks. Something that could have been resolved with adult, mature, conversation, turned into a webs of lies spun to save face.Their face, not mine. I’m pretty sure no one was every concerned about mine.

Words can create extreme pain when they are twisted to stroke ego and promote manipulation. After a year it is time to put it all to rest. I could have dodged the arrows but there were too many so they pierced repeatedly as the memories continue to emerge. I thought that I would write about them and then erase every trace of the remaining messages I received. Perhaps by clicking on the delete button I will not keep returning to the words that came from tricky cheeky liars.

A year ago, I was feeling particularly vulnerable due to my daughter’s illness and my own. It has been said that it was the pain I was feeling in my muscles, medications I was taking, or just exhaustion or anger that made me finally break all the silence. I don’t know if any of that is true. I don’t need excuses to speak the truth nor do I need a crutch or disability card to be tossed out to pacify those who don’t want to hear what I had to say. I would say if I need to “blame” anything for my ability to finally say what was on my mind it was the culmination of 25 years of a weight I could no longer carry.

During my vulnerable moment I got on Facebook. I saw that someone had posted a thank you to my brother for being there for them while in the hospital. After a year of being in and out of the hospital with my daughter and my brother never helping it stung to read it. So I posted something on Facebook myself. Something to the affect of, I could not believe my brother can be there for his friends but not for his family. It was not my greatest moment. Pretty soon after I got a text from my cousin saying that she was upset by what I wrote and she thought I should take it down. We chatted and texted for awhile. I heard her out and agreed that it didn’t need to be on facebook so I took it down. I thought that matter was over. Soon after my mom invited me to dinner. I was very happy to get out of the house and have some time with the one person who always got me out because she knew I needed that mental break. When we got to dinner and ordered she tells me that my cousin called her and that they were both very upset about what I put on facebook. She took me to dinner to “get me out” only to trick me into a corner about some HUGE thing I had done wrong. False pretenses are a game changer for me. I was so angry. I spent an hour getting ready. I was now unable to just walk away, drive away, get away. Downside of having a muscle disease is you are trapped with your saboteur. Apparently she had discussed the situation of my grave comment on facebook with her husband and he had advised her to ask me out to dinner to discuss it. There were so many reasons I was upset. Too many to list. But it began with the root of why I posted what I did in the first place. I was neglected by many people in my family in a time of great need(my mom not being one of them). My mom felt badly for upsetting me. She apologized. But the premise of the conversation at dinner was the “family name” and how I was tarnishing it by calling out my brother on social media. As I had already apologized for that and deleted it, we could have gotten to the real issues at hand like why I felt I had to post that in the first place. It seemed more important to her for ME to realize that other people did not need to know our business. Wasn’t that the sum up of my whole childhood though? Everything that happened to me was pushed under the rug. I’m pretty sure they tarnished their own family name by pretending that nothing happened to me. By allowing my brother to waterski with my abuser was tarnish enough in my eyes. When I got home my mind was reeling. Have you ever been fishing? I used to a lot as a child with my grandaddy. You’d toss the line, reel it back, toss the line reel it back. In fishing it was a very calming repetitive act.  My mind was doing the same thing but it was anything but calming. I started reviewing my life. I thought about every single time I had felt alone, abandoned, helpless. I thought about all the times I kept silent and just let my family hurt me with no consequences. Yet apparently my posting something on facebook, being confronted, apologizing, was not enough. I needed an intervention. I needed to be put in my place about what I could and could not say. This broke the seal. Everything that I had been weighted with I needed to finally speak. So I wrote my father a letter. It was directed at him but I wanted other family to read it as well. I wanted everyone to know the truth of what had happened to me. I wanted them to know why I was so upset every time they nonchalantly mentioned members of the ski club. I was just SO tired of hearing about how I never provided enough details of the abuse as a child. This is the letter that I wrote…trigger warning*:


You have told me that you do not understand why I feel the way I do. I have explained it repeatedly. For years, in fact. And yet you still say you do not understand. You either are not listening, are not capable of understanding, or are just not willing to really fix what is broken. You are not there for me or my daughter. You have not ever been. You have been a constant disappointment in a time in my life where for the SECOND time I had hoped you could give support but you did not.

I am writing this not to open the doors to communication. Those WILL remain closed. I am writing you because I have a feeling if I start from the beginning then perhaps you will get a better picture of why I have responded to you in the way that I have. Why I am not giving you any more chances. Not that I think you need or deserve an explanation but I feel that in the long run it would be good for you to know the full truth. You need to see me as the survivor that I am.

Lets start from the beginning.

The beginning involves Dennis. I have heard since I was a child from both parents and everyone else,“If you only gave us more details then…..”, I still believe and will until the day that I die that you knowing that a man put his hands on your daughter against her will required no more details. It should have been enough for you to move heaven and earth to make her feel justice. Never the less I will explain to you now the details I did not tell you as a child and you will perhaps understand.( by the way they don’t make children do that now. They bring in a female and huge support system and help that child feel comfortable to tell the details. Noone did that for me therefore those details did not come out)

When I first started going to Dennis’ I was young. 11, 12,13,14,15. I would vacuum for him and help clean his house and then he would take me skiing. And teach me what I loved which was swivel skiing. ( I will interject now that I believe no parent in their right mind allows a female child to go to a man’s house alone at that age but you all did). He started fun. For many many months everything was fun. I would do some cleaning, we would go and ski. Then things slowly, very slowly started to change. I didn’t even notice them for a very long time. As an adult reading this you may  think “ why wouldn’t you know better? why wouldn’t you know that was wrong?” But as a child, that is fully being manipulated, you just don’t know. As a child I had no idea about sexuality. I shouldn’t have. I should have been able to be a child. Dennis  STOLE MY CHILDHOOD. So he started putting me in his lap. Every day. I had to sit in his lap. He always watched soap operas. So I had to sit in his lap to watch a whole one. Then I’d clean a little, then we’d ski. Then as I was washing dishes he started kissing my neck. Coming up behind me and hugging me and kissing my neck. I remember thinking that was odd and overly friendly but since he was you and mom’s friend and so highly regarded I figured I was misinterpreting or overreacting. Fast forward a year or so or more. A YEAR is a long time for a child to be slowly manipulated. Those kisses from behind turned to smashing me up against the sink while rubbing himself on me. Rubbing his hard penis against my back and sucking on my neck and squeezing me until I could barely breathe. I was 13.  Those soap opera’s turned to porn. Those sitting in the laps turned into me being rubbed into his lap. and being shown porn magazines. I saw pornography as a CHILD. I had no idea what I was watching. He said it was good and I would be a porn star one day. Imagine what he was doing to me while he was watching porn. I had a penis, hard penis pressing against my butt on top of my clothes for an hour each and every single time.  So at such a young age who is to know that is a hard penis. I surely didn’t . I didn’t know what it was. Then we went to bribery. If I wanted a new bathing suit I had to model it. So I did and he had to check every square inch of that bathing suit to make sure it fit correctly. I was 13. I had a mans hand on my vagina at age 13. But just checking my bathing suit ofcourse. And then he suggested I probably needed a massage. He ofcourse needed to shower first and then come sit on me with his towel while he sat on my back and I couldn’t get up. I had a man’s hands on my breasts, that I barely had at age 13. Sitting on my back watching porn on tv.  Hmm you are thinking. Didn’t that set off alarms? Why did I even go back? Well all I can tell you is that fear crept in. He started warning me that no one would believe me. I shouldn’t tell anyone. He would blame me. He got an evil laugh at that point and that continued on. The evil laugh. So by the age of 14 I had felt a penis, had a man’s hand on my body under my clothing, had a man thrust himself on me, kiss me, sit on me and hold me down, show me porn, and the list can go on. Remember that went on for years. I tried to convince myself that everything he said was not true. He blamed me. Said I was pretty and I was available and I was so young. He scared me. I tried to stop going but he then came to the house and got me. He wouldn’t let me stop coming over. I was brainwashed. I was manipulated. I could not escape. When we went out of town on ski trips…All your fun memories…buford southcarolina…every time he found me. I was never safe from him. I was never protected.

Let us pause…a brief pause to when I was 13-14 and went to ski school at six flags. You guys dropped my brother and me off at six flags. Timmy was one of the instructors. We stayed there and slept there and guess what…Timmy did the same thing Dennis did. Same thing. I won’t go into all those details. I was too programed by then to fight or tell. So I just took it. My brother was sleeping right next to me.  I recently contacted Timmy. We talked about it. He said it is his worse regret in life and something he would never forgive himself for. He wrote me a long letter. I forgave him. Note to self. Do not drop your kids off with people over night you DO NOT KNOW! and just assume because they are twins and they are together then they will be ok. Did not work out like that. I felt doomed. Doomed to be used by men forever. Doomed that I could never go anywhere without having a penis on me. Unfortunately there are pedophiles everywhere. And they are looking for the perfect victim. I was a quiet sweet girl. For a long time I thought it had to be me since it happened more than once. After talking to many other women over the years I realized sadly there are just a lot of bad men out there.

So getting home from that experience was devastatingly traumatizing. Oh but I didn’t get a break because Dennis was still there. But Yay, we were about to go on a trip to Costa Rica. Things would be awesome. I could not wait. Everyone had a wonderful time. My parents thought it was ok for me to go dancing with Juan someone they never knew or met in another country when I was not even 15 yet. Thankfully nothing happened. But guess what….something else did.  I don’t remember his name.. that man molested me there in costa rica. Actually he forced me to play with his penis. How did he know he could do that? How did he know he could prey upon me? Because Dennis told him? No, no way, as my mother said “abusers never brag to other’s about what they did” Well Dennis DID!!!!!!!

So in recap I had felt a penis against my will in costa rica. Other things happened…showers….etc. I don’t feel like wasting too much time on those details in costa rica but three men showered with me and you were nowhere to be seen.. It was just another experience of abuse I endured. I often wondered where my parents were. Why they left me alone. I’ve heard back then it is what you did. That really is no consolation to me. Because I have since talked to friends about all these details. They protected their children. They said I should have been protected too. Excuses, always excuses for why the victim wasn’t protected.

I’m going to fast forward a moment to when I was 18 and then go back again to 15. When I was 18 I decided to take Dennis to court. Got an attorney on my own. He suggested I contact other members of the ski team that could testify for me. I contacted one. Frankie. Do you know what Frankie said? He KNEW what Dennis was doing. He said many people knew what Dennis was doing but Dennis made me out to be a slut and said that I wanted it. I was 14 or younger or older or all of the above. Not only did Frankie know about it he thought I wanted that attention. So Frankie and who knows who else COULD have protected me. But he chose not to. I could have been saved from years of ongoing abuse. But no one did a thing. I was so upset over this finding that I told the attorney I could not proceed. Soon after the statute of limitations ran out so court was out of the question.

Rewind to 15. I tried to kill myself. Many times. You guys know about one time. But there were many. I just was not successful. I was tormented with shame. With guilt. I did not want to live. I could not imagine a moment that the image of Dennis’ hands on my body or his hard penis pressing against me did not haunt my mind. Then I got a boyfriend. For some reason you and mom felt it was ok at 15 for me to go on a blind date with Fred who I ended up dating. I would go to Fred’s house for the weekends to get away from Dennis. Fred loved me and I learned more and more the magnitude of what Dennis and his daughter Layla’s  boyfriend and Frankie had done to me. So I dated Fred for a year. But being intimate was confusing and scary and it depressed me even more and more. I was driving home one night and wrecked my car into a tree. Tried to kill myself. You guys thought I fell asleep at the wheel. I didn’t. I wanted to die. I can’t remember when that was in my story but it happened at some point.The times and dates get a little confusing because abuse happened for so long. BUT I remember the car  because I went to Indiana that summer and got back and you had bought me a new car. I went to Indiana. I got picked up at the airport by the head of the team, Justin  at that point. He took me straight home to his house and had sex with me. I knew now other way. I had just turned 17. He was 25. Thought that was what I just had to do. I thought well he must love me. He must want me to be his girlfriend or something. And it seemed like everyone else did so why not. But then the next day he dumped me off at the ski house and said he did have a girlfriend and she was coming and I was not to tell a soul what he did. I didn’t even think he was a bad guy. I thought it was just what guys did. I got home to my new car that summer. And shortly after that I think was when I tried suicide again and you guys found out.A very sweet friend saved my life. Went to the hospital and all that.

I tried to tell you. I tried to tell you both that Dennis had done something bad to me. I remember the day I told you. It took months to get up the nerve. I told you he was a perverted man and had done bad things to me. You wanted details. It took everything in my life to get those words out. But that wasn’t enough. more more more. everyone wanted more.I had endured all my body could handle. Even speaking those words were the last bit of strength I could muster. I hoped your strength would take over and I could just be a child again. But I never was. My childhood was gone. And ended up I had to be strong again because nothing was going to be done about Dennis.  Maybe more was needed for prosecution but no more was needed for my parents to do justice by their daughter. You knew he had done something to me. I told you. DCF was called and they sent an old man, which  they would never do now bc I was too embarrassed to speak to him. So I was blamed “ well if you won’t give details we can’t do anything”. Bullshit. I just kept being victimized again and again. I have said it before and I will say it again. If my daughter uttered a word that anyone had made her uncomfortable their head would be on a platter. You KNEW something happened. You KNEW I tried to kill myself. BUT what did my parents do,. my parents then allowed my brother to go back to skiing with the same man who took my whole childhood. You will excuse that, because you make excuses for everything, that since you didn’t know everything how  could you take that experience away from your son. He loved skiing. Your son’s happiness was more important than your daughter’s heart break. Mom told me my brother cried and cried please let me go back and ski. You allowed Dennis to come to our dock and get him. Do you know how it felt to watch my brother go ski with the man who did all those things to me. The first man to put his lips on your daughter was 50 years old! How does that make you feel? So I went to grant center to get well only to come home and sit on the dock and watch my brother ski with Dennis. How could I ever get well? How? As a parent you should have moved!!!!! I would have taken my daughter away. I would have done everything, anything! You did NOTHING> EVER!!!!

Image, God forbid anyone think the image of our family is tarnished. We must go on like nothing happened.

So then my only choice after dropping out of highschool , which I had to do since everyone knew I was in grant center after attempting suicide and that humiliation along with the molesting well that was too much . So I got a job at seaworld.

Did you ever take me there? Wonder where I stayed? I got a job two hours away and no one checked on me. You had your new life. You were looking after your step child, working, having your marriage. What happened to me?????  You video taped the show. You came one day to video. But where did I stay. ??? I slept in my CAR!!!! The whole time I worked there I slept in my car. DAD did you hear me. I slept in my car.  Until a sweet boat driver busted me a month later and let me sleep on his couch. Mom was dating someone then and my old room was full of boxes. Some weekends I would be too hot sleeping in my car and so I would come home and climb over all the boxes and sleep in my old bed.

Anyway, after quitting seaworld there was no place for me to stay. Mom’s boyfriend took over the house and was a hoarder, you were with your wife. So I started dating Tommy and moved in with him. I was 18. Moved in with Tommy because I just couldn’t stay in that house. Actually no one offered me a place to stay or live. Moving home didn’t seem an option. And staying at mom’s just meant I got to see Dennis and the ski club. So I lived with a guy at 18 which is when I got sick. You helped me some, took me to a few appointments. I think that is when I first got lyme disease. I had to work because I couldn’t afford to live with Tommy and be sick and I could barely function. So I had to work and I was so so sick. Things didn’t work out with Tommy. So I got the apartment. You sent me money to help me monthly. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough money. I could barely work. Lived in a crap hole apartment. I wanted to find a nice boyfriend. I met someone at a club . He seemed so nice. The next day he took me on a date.. He date raped me. I was 21. I cried the whole time. He told me it would be over soon.I will never forget those words. “It will be over soon”. I was paralyzed. Date rape is very different than being molested as a child. Very different. I don’t really want to go into all those details here. I was crying and he just kept saying it would be over soon. I was on my period actually. I had a tampon in. He said “Don’t you worry I will make it all fit!” I left and never saw him again. I can only imagine, or don’t want to imagine what or who these men have hurt since me. Oh and I am not the only one. I have had tons of counselors and tons of friends tell me countless stories of abuse. I could never get away from the men. I was branded it felt. Tarnished. Ruined. I was never really able to distinguish between what was safe and not safe and where to go and what to do. It was awful. But I was numb. The summer of when I was 22 I was still sick, working part time, going to school, and exhausted by life. I couldn’t pay my rent. You told me you had given me my monthly money and that was all you could give. I appreciated that money. I did. but  I did not have money for rent. So guess what….my good friend at the time…Francis….he thought I was a virgin….Isn’t that hilarious…I laughed outloud thinking that he thought I was a virgin..He said he would pay me 500-800 for my virginity. Pay me for my virginity. You heard right!!!! I was hungry, broke, sick, and So I thought….Well I had already been molested and raped against my will /Why not get paid for it. So I let Francis have sex with me  for a price. Paid my rent. He left the money on the bedside table. He tells people  to tell me hello sometimes still. So I think I had reached my lowest point in my life. Sold myself, and had every ounce of life sucked from me.

I should have been living at home safely with one of my parents!

A year later I met my husband.

Let me recap for you. Dennis molested me, brainwashed me, manipulated me, forced me to watch pornographic videos and magazines when I was a CHILD. THEN I had the same thing happen at ski camp. Then the same thing happen in Indiana. ALL BEFORE I WAS 18 years old.Mostly before I was 14. My daughter is 18 years old. Looking at her now. It breaks my heart to know that because my parents did not protect me, watch over me, that so many things happened. You weren’t there. You were always busy. Your whole life you have been busy. It could have been prevented with a little bit of supervised parenting. But it was not. I got a tongue crammed down my throat by Frankie at six flags. I was a CHILD. I had a penis in my hand in costa rica. I was a CHILD! I had a man touch my vagina when I was a CHILD.

So then. years later after I was married. My mother sees you…my father…the man who never did ANYTHING when I was a child to Dennis and she sees you in a restaurant and you shake Dennis’ hand. I question you about this and you said you didn’t want to make a scene. So you shook his hand. Do you know the message you gave to Dennis. You told him you did not believe me. You told him it was Ok. You told ME that it was ok what he did. You broke my heart. And it will never ever be repaired by you. I will never forgive you for that. I have forgiven you for many things. But I will never forgive you for that.

You cannot undo that. You cannot undo anything that you DIDN”T do for me. But I met my husband. I had a baby. My life had changed. My life was perfect. I had a beautiful child and husband and my life was perfect. Lots of therapy I did ON MY OWN. Lots of healing, processing, chaplain work, work with ministers and pastors. Healing from the past. SO I  thought I would leave the past in the past. I would allow you into my life and my daughter’s life because I wanted hope. I wanted a father. Then I got sick with this muscle disease. You saw me a few times a year, always late, sometimes forgot. I got mad. DIdn’t speak to you for a year. Was sick of you putting me second to your job and whatever else you found important. But then my daughter got sick. My daughter got sick and you never came. Oh you came a few times. But the promises. Once a month we will meet. Once a month we will do this or that. And nothing. I waited and nothing. Oh when you retire. Always one day. One day came and went.

My daughter is sick. I am sick. I am hurting. I am in terrible physical pain. And I still put her first. I take care of her every single need. Her every single want. 24/7. How could a parent be any different? You should have been over here every single week for the last 7 years helping me with laundry, dinner, bathing the dogs, giving me emotional and physical support. I do it for my daughter. And I am sick. My husband is more of a father in one 24 hour period than you have been in the last 10 years!

And why? I don’t care. I nolonger care about why you cannot follow through. Why you are so busy. Why you can only fit us in maybe once a month. Usually twice a year. I don’t care. You have proven to me that you will never change. You will never be the father I want or deserve. You were not when I went through my childhood tragedy and you are not now. You are and always have been absent.

I can only imagine where I would have been had I told my parents a man was perverted and touched me and my father went to his house and beat him up, put our house on the market, and moved us onto a different lake and started fresh. I would have felt validated, believed. worthy. I would have felt strong and loved. But I got NOTHING. My mother made one phone call to Dennis’ house. Big deal.

Noone held me on their chest and told me everything would be ok. Noone sat next to my bed when I was afraid to sleep because of the nightmares. No one welcomed me into a new home that was safe and away from the evil across the lake.

THAT is what I have been through. I was lost. I was truly lost. I could have been comforted and made to feel secure. I was not until I met my husband. My mother tried her best. I feel my mother tried to do everything that none else even tried. But she was only one person. I have continued therapy all these years on my own. My therapist suggested years ago that I cut all ties with you because you did not take responsibility or even acknowledge what I had been through and by continuing to disappointment me now was just a reminder of what a disappointment you were in the past.

I now agree. I nolonger want your promises. I nolonger want your excuses. I will not let you let my daughter down like you let me down. You already have.

I have moved forward. I am trying to get through lyme disease with me and my daughter. I have no time for disappointments.

In my mind I do not have a father. I have not had a father in a very long time.

I do not want to hear from you. I do not want your KIND of relationship. I do not want anything ever again. I never want to speak to you again.

I believe now you will not say the favorite  words “ I don’t understand” Because if you don’t understand now then you are an idiot.

I will close with this. Recently I commented on facebook that I was upset that my brother visited someone in the hospital for like a week. It was a reminder that I am very alone and not supported at all by my  “busy” family. I deleted it within an hour that I wrote it. I don’t want to hurt my brother by him seeing this or someone else. It was a moment of anger because. Oh my god guess what …I AM HUMAN!!!!! I am not perfect. I had a moment of anger. I deleted it. I think I deserve YEARS of anger. But I will not give any more of my life to my past and being angry and upset only gives more time to the abusers.  Another family member called my mom to tell on me. She said that it was not LIKE me to say something like that. It was not LIKE me to be angry and to tarnish our family name. What if people think our family is not OK. What if people read that and thought that my brother or dad weren’t supporting me. What if?!!! In the last few years. Count how many times my family has come to help me. one hand right? Yes. Disgusting. Excluding my mother ofcourse.

I pray one day my brother and I will reconcile. My brother was raised by two parents who did not teach him loyalty. I feel so bad for him. He has a good heart. He is a good father. A good husband. He doesn’t know how to be a good brother because you didn’t teach him.

Well let me tell you this. I have every right to every emotion that I have. If I want to be angry I will be.  I am entitled to my emotions and more. You are all used to this sweet precious submissive Bethany. When I stand up for myself I must be angry or not able to deal with the past or in need of an intervention or therapy and that is what you think. And that is your way to NEVER be accountable for anything. That is your way to always put everything back on me and never ever be accountable for the fact that you are a terrible father!

This Bethany is stronger than all of you put together. ALL OF YOU!!!!  You don’t know me. I don’t care about our family image because unlike other members of this family I believe the heart and soul and God are the most important things and that an image is only what you are portraying for other people. It is not real. What it all is …a lie. All lies….Don’t want our image to be tarnished. You mean don’t want people to know that we aren’t perfect? Well we aren’t! Don’t want people to know my family has not supported or been there for me? They haven’t. Maybe if image wasn’t so important then my family would have rallied around me. Rioted! Boycotted that ski club. But no. I can’t even put one sentence on facebook without an outraged family member thinking I have gone crazy with anger. Well I haven’t gone crazy. With no help from you or anyone else I am surprisingly normal. I have raised a beautiful loving compassionate child. I am a good mother and a good wife. I know how to be a good friend and I have strong values and integrity and ALWAYS stand up for justice.

I am not Poor Bethany. I am not feel sorry for Bethany. This is how you all have always treated me. All of this family dynamic makes me sick. So consumed with what others think. Superficial. But no one has taken the time to deal with the matters that really should have been addressed long ago. And it is too late for that. I already dealt with them. I am only taking the time to tell you now so I can close fully the chapter on that book.

I am strong. I endured everything alone. Now I have a husband to help me endure this devastating health issue that my daughter and I have.

I have no shame. I do not live in the past. I do not feel obligated to put on a façade to make others feel better about themselves.

My family has failed me. That is the truth. Then they blame me. Then they are ashamed of me. Then they don’t even allow me to have emotions because it does not fit into their idea of what this family image should be.

The truth I am not ashamed to tell. I will keep no secrets. I will not keep anyone’s lies. I will not put on a charade to make everyone thing everything is perfect.

The family member calling my mother because she was mostly upset about me being angry and not sweet, and secondly because of IMAGE, makes me EMBARASSED to call my family my family. embarrassed. I have not tarnished my family. The day you shook John Doe’s hand you tarnished it YOURSELF!!! The day you let my brother go back and ski with them YOU tarnished it!

My mother will say…oh Bethany don’t bring this up. Let’s not upset everyone…..because God forgive any of you are ever upset about the reality that has been my life. Hear it. Know it. Feel it. Your daughter was raped. Your daughter was molested. Your daughter sold herself for money. Your daughter was broken.Your daughter was alone. Never validated. always hushed. Never allowed to truly be who I am. BUT your daughter is healed. Since I was 23 years old I have been healed of all that was done to me. It is all of you that have not been healed. Maybe you are guilty. Maybe it is because you cannot let it go. I have no idea. You bring up the ski club and I am healed and YET I can never forget because SOMEONE in this family must always reminds me.

Well now you know…when you bring up the ski club….I just remember losing my childhood to a monster.

I was a victim of terrible crimes. I survived. I am a survivor. I will continue to be strong for my husband and my daughter.

I will not be manipulated or ignored or disappointed anymore by you or anyone else.

The past is in the past. You now know the details of it. I am entitled to every single emotion and I have a husband that validates these emotions.

He, and my child, and God…..They are all I need.

Please do not contact me again.


This was my breakthrough. I had finally released everything. I wanted to close the door on my father disappointing me ever again. I wanted to let the other family members know exactly why. Then the fall out. Messages and emails and a call to my husband. None positive. I imagined my mother would come to my house and embrace me and say she was sorry that she never knew the truth. I imagined the rest of my family would finally get closure on the past and we could move forward without any mention of the constant “triggers” anymore. What I imagined never happened.

I then started receiving emails from my stepfather. Here is some of what he had to say, ”

Why you would have a need to tell <other family members> or ANYONE ELSE was uncalled for.  They were not involved and had no need to be told all the “nitty-gritty!!!”  What could be the motivation – revenge?? 

You ended with stating that all you need is God, <husband and daughter> in your life.  I sincerely hope you will find competent counseling because regardless of what is “your reality,” anyone reading your letter would certainly agree that it is needed in order to get over the seething “rage” so prevalent in it!!
So, rest assured, until you have received that counseling and learn to forgive, you have succeeded in estranging yourself from the entire family.”
and then:

I realize my emails have probably been blocked but in the off chance they haven’t, I’m going to have my say!!

I find this whole situation absolutely reprehensible!  I am truly saddened by what was done to you 30+ years ago!!  However, for you to so severely castigate your mother as you did a month ago is beyond the pale!!

As for <your daughter>, it seems as though you have poisoned her against her grandmother.  The sun rises and sets on her granddaughter and <your daughter> had absolutely nothing to do with what happened to you 30 years ago and to cut her off from her grandmother even more unconscionable and reprehensible!!  Your mother has tried to contact her on several occasions, and except for one time, no response.  How proud you must feel!
Summing it up, I find it unconscionable what you have put your mother through as a result of your hateful email a few weeks ago!!  She doesn’t even want to come to that side of town because she is afraid she will run into you and/or your family.  What a shame you have treated her this way!!
I certainly hope you enjoy your own “reality!!”  You truly do need counseling and I sincerely hope you get it and I sincerely hope you and your mother can reconcile someday.
I can tell you this, and it hurts me to say so, but I am certainly not proud of you and your actions!!  At this stage, I am far more concerned about your mother and what you have done to her than I am about your
situation!!! “
I was not expecting all of this. I was not prepared for my mom to act like a victim. I was not prepared to be attacked by the words of  my stepfather that I loved. I was not prepared for anything that happened next.
Lies and manipulation.
My older brother informed me that my mother wanted to make amends but that she couldn’t because I had some sort of restraining order. Never happened. I simply told my stepfather that I took his emails to be harassment and they needed to stop. I never got a restraining order. But it sure sounds good doesn’t it. If ONLY she could just make amends but she cannot because I have a restraining order? All tricks and lies. She even went so far as to say she didn’t know why she was “banished” from my family. Well if you read what her husband wrote to me about the fact that I am now “estranged from the entire family” I think we are all pretty clear on who got banished and it was not her.
His words wounded me. I guess that was their intention. I should be used to be victimized but it is always the ones you don’t suspect that catch you the most unaware.
Family secrets and lies. A bunch of tricky cheeky liars is what it all boils down to!
Let me break through all of those tricks and manipulations with the truth which will always prevail.
Everything I wrote in that letter to my father was the truth. I never meant to hurt my mother. I never consciously made her a part of the letter at all. If she were hurt by my words then she easily could have come to my house and we could have discussed it. She could have acknowledged and validated what I had been through and if she was upset she could have told me herself. Instead, webs were spun. As if the past did not have enough webs, more had to be spun. I read a letter that she wrote that truly broke my heart. It broke everything. And some things that are broken can never be fixed again. The letter was full of lies to justify why she let me go to all of those places where I ended up being molested.  She cared more about defending herself than just saying she was so sorry that her daughter had been molested. She cared more about what others may think of her as a parent than she did consoling me after hearing the truth.
No one spoke to me after that. Over a year has gone past and my mother, stepfather, brothers, cousins, aunt, uncle, poof gone. I did not intentionally hurt my mother, but she let her husband hurt me. She hurt me.
When my mom tricked me into going to dinner with her just to confront me over something I thought was already resolved, something that could have been very simply done over the phone, it was the beginning of the end. The end for their part in my life. I’ve thought long and hard over this past year about why it upset me so much, the things she and her husband said to me and about me. They were just words. But they were laced with intentional hurt and lies, something that I was freeing myself from.
Last night I lay in bed thinking, why can I not let these family members go? The obviously do not care about me at all! They didn’t protect me then and they are now trying to hurt me. Why can I not just let it all go? Delete those emails and message? I haven’t heard from them in a year. They aren’t just going to wake up tomorrow and make everything right! This morning it became clear. Why I hate liars and manipulators and narcissists. Why I hate tricky cheeky liars. And why their actions have been so damaging. Because that is what child molesters and rapists base their entire grooming on. Being molested I had been manipulated, lied to, disregarded, and tricked. So that was it.  My family so easily turned into what I hated most. It hurt so badly, their words, because their words were a reflection of what I had already endured. Their actions were only selfserving and reactionary. They would just continue the cycle.
They will continue on a merry-go-round of illusions indefinitely. I guess I got tossed off the ride. And it hurt when I fell. But at least I am free of it now.
I went to my great uncle’s funeral a number of months ago. They were all there. None of them even looked at me. I looked at them. I sat in the back of the church and I looked at them. I looked at this line of people who had once made up my family. They drew a perfect line of a family that had no idea what truth, loyalty, and unconditional love was. They drew a line that I am now happy to be on the other side of.
The chapter on my family, at least that part of my family,  is now closed. I am officially yanking out the arrows that they threw at me. I didn’t think it would take this long to process it all.I freaking left the arrows in way too long!  They were starting to get infected! Words and actions can do that if you let them. They can fester and infect your whole being. Loving kindness can heal that would pretty quickly though. I am looking forward to not giving this another though.
I’m walking away and I will not look over my shoulder again.
The next chapter can begin…now.

11 thoughts on “Cheeky tricky liars.

  1. I am very moved by what I just read and it needs time to process this, even as a total stranger to you. Right now I can only respond with a feeling I have about your family …Let them go! Let them go completely and do not turn back. Let me be judgmental: What you described as your family (and I don’t mean your close family = daughter and husband) is of no value at all based on the truth and their value system the live by. What they did to you and what they are still doing to you is wrong. And it was and still is their choice. I think your path is clear and it has nothing in common with theirs. And, maybe that is something that can even make you proud of yourself …you are not one of their kind.


    • I thank you very very much for taking the time to read this very long blog post I did last night. Thank you for your meaningful and heartfelt reply that I greatly appreciate. I very much agree that my path is nowhere near there’s. Thank you for supporting my decision and understanding my feelings. I appreciate your objective opinion that truly validates my emotions toward the entire situation. “Not one of their kind” True, very very true words. Thank you.


  2. What struck me about your thoughtful honest letter was the complete lack of rage. The rage is coming from the step-dad with every one of his evil, rage filled, vengeful words, upset because his wife is upset. That does not excuse his repeated attacks on you. That is what is reprehensible. I’d like to write him myself the $#%$#@-%*#*$% . I feel rage at this. His letter so reminds me of Seth’s response to me, blasting me because I speak of childhood wounds and trauma. Though 55 years have passed it is as if it were yesterday. That is the haunt of post-traumatic stress.

    My rage is that a child is hit by a Mack truck over and over again, and then is supposed to be quiet about it. The victimization goes on for life. Others still want you silenced and if they have to attack you to silence you they will, and attack as harsh, hurtful, aggressively and as evilly as needed until you are silent.

    I teared up picturing you in the back of the church with the line of people in front who are supposed to be ‘family’. That hurts me so much and makes me cry. I am so sorry they don’t hold you in the palm of their hands, and deep in their hearts, like a little baby bird who needs nurturing and love, your beautiful soul. They miss so much in their need for their fake reputation because their choices are evil, selfish ones. And below those false identities there is love, but they may never get there because they are allowing their own selfish needs to get in the way of the love I know they must feel deep inside. It will be their terrible regrets to live with, not yours.

    Your letter also seemed complimentary of your mother, even kinder than deserved.


    • Thank you immensely for your comments. Thank you for reading the entire thing! I appreciate your input very much because you have given me a completely objective opinion on what I wrote. And you are right! There was no rage. I was very calm when I wrote it. The only evil came from him. I agree and have felt that way all along. Yes he is like Seth’s response to you, not wanting you to speak of your past! You are so spot on with the victimization happening our whole life! Thank you so much for taking the time to write to me. It really means a lot and completely validates how I feel. AND I agree about my letter and my mom. That’s how I have felt the whole time so thank you for saying all of this. Very poignant about there being love way down but they may never find it. I’ve said that for the last year!

      Liked by 1 person

      • Yes, how could they not love you? Yet they stick together as if righteous.
        Just because they gang up, doesn’t make their choices kind, compassionate, caring, or loving. And sitting like that in a church besides. As long as those kinds of attacks are forthcoming you are right to protect yourself from them.
        You are open in all ways, able to love in spite of everything, horrors no child should ever endure. Yet you endured, over and over again. Alone. And them making friends with the criminal. You were already abandoned a long time ago. Yet are abandoned again.
        You are whole. You are stronger and braver than ten of them. To be open, and loving and hold the courage to stand up for yourself in the face of abandonment, rejection and ridicule, persecuted by those we usually can count on always, but instead are attacked on all levels.
        Their behaviors are unconscionable. Their loss is great by not sticking by you, such a precious person, so giving. I know still that it hurts. Hurts so much. But you must protect you. You always have had to.
        I am glad I did not overstep. I felt such fury at their treatment of you.

        Liked by 1 person

      • You actually made me feel very cared for and validated. It’s kind of nice to have someone feel angry for me. You didnt overstep. I appreciate all of your words.they were comforting today.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. I am very proud of you for writing this and getting things out there. I think each time we tell our story we heal a bit more from whatever we’ve gone through. Honestly though, I didn’t make it through the entire letter. I began having a panic attack. But I did want you to know how proud of you I am.


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