Introduction - Part 1

I didn’t write this to destroy anyone. I didn’t write it to play the victim. I didn’t write it to be famous or forgiven.

I wrote it because I refuse to be silent anymore.

If you’ve lived through pain like mine, or are still living it, I want you to know - you’re not alone. You’re not crazy. You’re not broken beyond repair. You’re human. And your story matters.

This blog isn’t just my therapy. It’s a rebellion. It’s a war cry. It’s a whispered prayer. It’s a hand reaching out in the dark, hoping someone else will grab it.

So if you're still reading, maybe this story is yours too.

My main reason for creating this blog is to find complete inner peace and healing in my own life and to defeat my fight against depression. 

It is an urgent desire that I hope and pray to achieve through this blog.

My goal is to draw positive energy and to leave toxic relationships, unnecessary drama, and tantrums behind.

I started writing the content of this blog while I was in prison. It’s rough and uncensored. It’s intense and passionate. It’s confusing, yet one can read between the lines, which are mixed with all the different kinds of emotions.

I want to keep it this way, partially because this is the truth, and partially because there is an emotional power in it that has something to do with what I felt at the time. If nothing else, it gave me something to do.

There are certain topics that one should think twice and be careful to write about, because you may unknowingly step on toes. In my case, I really don’t care about how many toes I step on, including my own. “Stepping on my own toes” is my way of admitting that I am not perfect, not even close.

I have made mistakes and will continue to make mistakes, but the difference between now and then is that I try my utmost best to learn from my current mistakes.  

I just feel I have to write my entire story to the extent to which my heart is telling me to. I have discovered throughout the years that my heart is the only place where I don’t have to wear any masks; my heart gives me the freedom to be exactly who I am, but only within myself, because not all issues of the heart can be revealed. 

In this case, fortunately for me and those who love me and unfortunately for others who couldn’t care less, I had to reveal everything to break free from the chains that held me captive for most of my life.

Abuse, whether physical, emotional, mental, or verbal, infidelity, looking for the so-called “greener pastures”, call it whatever you want, try to justify it as much as you want to, the one thing that stands out like a sore thumb is that it causes extreme hurt for more than one person.

Grown-ups and children suffer deep and extreme hurt, and some have to face and deal with the emotional scars for the rest of their lives.

As I faced each hurtful incident in my life, I learned to dig deep into the depths of my soul for strength and determination. Through this healing process, I discovered how to be persistent and tough.  

I could not go into the past and use Tippex to erase any incidents; instead, I had to find a way to stop trying to ignore my pain and use it to help me heal and grow.  

I lived and dealt with darkness every single day and made peace with the fact that I could not change my past, but I could try to build a better future. Not an easy one, not even for the toughest of the tough.  I’m still trying every day, but I have to admit, I’m not very good at building.

My intention in going public with my story was not to cause shame to my family or to get back at my father for abusing me and my mother and for being an unfaithful husband and absent father, but instead to be a voice to those in similar circumstances and give guidance on how to deal with the hurt, the wounds, and the scars.

I survived the acts of an abusive father, and I know the horror and hurt of what his infidelity has caused my mother and me, and no one can or will tell me to keep quiet any longer.

I have been manipulated into being silent long enough, and I will not allow anybody to silence me again.  I will continue to speak out and make sure my voice is heard. You have two choices – suppress and become a victim or speak out and become a survivor.

No matter how ashamed or how afraid you might be, break the silence you’ve been carrying over the years, and you will discover that you are one step closer to the healing process.

Hiding my pain and acting strong, afraid to cry and show my tears, only made it worse, because it was called manipulation and rebellion, and now, years later, I’m still struggling to deal with it. If only I had known how to break the silence years earlier.

You sometimes hear that someone deserves to be cheated on. NOBODY deserves to be cheated on. Cheating is not the answer.  

I know things happen, but I will never understand what drove my father to be a serial cheater. He simply could not live without the regular excitement of a new woman.  Was that the only way on this earth of having his ego (and his penis for that matter) stroked?  

Why didn’t he just divorce my mother instead of having four more siblings after me, while his infidelity continued throughout the years?  

He was so caught up in his adventurous search for excitement. Many times, I wonder if he ever thought about the hurt, grief, resentment, and anger his actions would cause if he were to be caught one day.

At one stage, I stopped counting the number of times he had lied to continue his wicked ways. I think what hit me the most was his arrogance in thinking that he could get away with his lies time after time.  And what also hit me the most is that my mother, the dear soul that she was, forgave him every time.  I couldn’t understand why Mom stayed married, even after she became aware of his affairs.

I was extremely confused about the real meaning of love and marriage, or any relationship for that matter.  I had so much anger and conflicting feelings toward my father.

Infidelity and being abusive defined his character.  I continuously felt torn between feelings of anger and yearning for his love. Mom really loved him so much. Little was she aware, or maybe she was, of how he was playing her for a fool, how he was gambling with her unconditional love. And how arrogant to think that once she’s forgiven him, everything will turn back to normal.

Throughout all these times, and when I was old enough to realize what was happening, I would silently absorb everything and think to myself: “You bastard, your day will come, and I hope it will come in a slow and painful death because that is what you deserve, because you slowly and painfully killed an entire family”.

To all the “easy” women out there, yes, that is what you are when sleeping with married men. Stop pleading ignorance because there are crystal clear signs when a man is married, divorced, or single.  

Within the first weeks of your so-called newfound love, any woman with one brain cell can figure out whether a man is married or not. And if you have two brain cells, you will not fall prey to old cliches like: “We are in the process of a divorce”, “We have too many differences and argue too much", “We haven’t been sharing a bed for more than a year now”.  Bullshit! Then you have to be the Hunchback of Notre Dame's ugly and dumb sister, although I think even she was smarter.

My biggest regret at this stage is that my mother is no longer here on earth to share in the excitement when the writing finally ends, and the naked truth is exposed by means of the content of this blog.