*I am a survivor of both physical and sexual abuse. Sexual abuse is physical but when I say physical abuse I mean severe beatings - either with fists or with a cribbage board for example. The physical abuse took place in my biological home and in a foster home. The sexual abuse was via a foster father at a different foster home. It took me a few years to come to terms with it and today I hold no malice and certainly didn't wish for any of them to be killed. What helped me was being able to confront all of them when I was in my middle 30's - I made them listen to what I had to say. It brought me closure and peace - in fact, I kept in contact with all of them until they passed away and all have since. The other thing that helped me and perhaps it was more important in the long-term than confronting them was researching the family history of my step-mother, father and two foster fathers. They never knew that I did it - well, my father did because my research (along with others) resulted in a Bushway family reunion a few years before he died. When it comes to family research I am not a novice - it's something I've been doing since discovering that my step-mother wasn't my real mother back in 1979 at 11-years old..

At any rate - after conducting this research it was easy for me to see why it all happened - it was almost inevitable - I just happened (at no fault of my own) to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It can take generations to end the cycle of abuse. I am not saying that what I went through was justified because of what they went through - I am simply saying that they didn't stand any more of a chance than I did.

The abuse they were subjected to was far harsher than the abuse that they subjected me to. And their abuse took place at a time in history when the resources didn't exist for people to get away from the abuse or to get assistance to deal with it. My step-mother was born in 1949, the foster father that beat me was born in 1922 and the one that sexually abused me was born in 1929. There was no such thing as shelters for battered women or state assistance that included access to therapy.

*I want to make two final points

#1 - I've learned through helping nearly a 100 people research their family history that it's not my place to judge but if I decided to ignore that - I've learned to judge the totality of a person's life - both the good and the bad. While the people that abused me, abused many others - there was a common theme. My step-mother taught her victims how to cook, how to sew, how to do our own laundry, how to shop and so on. The foster father that beat me - taught me how to hunt, how to fish, how to fix my own car and he showed up for every sport I participated in and I sucked at all of them. The foster father that sexually abused me taught me how to write a resume, how to balance a check-book, how to conduct myself at an interview and how to run a business. These are life long skills that they taught me and so clearly they didn't hate me - in the end they did the best they could with what they knew. If your only influences are negative (I'm fortunate that wasn't the case with me) you're likely to only do negative things as you struggle to find yourself. Nothing that happened to me was my fault - I've simply come to understand that when people know better - they do better. Sexual abuse of a kid - on the surface seems to be about an adult that fancies kids - but it's never that simple. Understanding that alleviates the biggest question that most victims have "why me"? It was never about me to begin with.

#2 - When you get to my age - I'm soon going to be 52 - you come to realize that the face you see in the mirror is one that you earned. Before anyone says it, I am clearly not talking about people disfigured as the result of abuse. If that's not your case, don't do this to yourself. I held onto my baggage for over 30-years and while I have no malice towards those that hurt me - I still wear the scars. I'm 60-lbs overweight, I'm an alcoholic, I smoke 2-packs a day, I have 40% heart blockage, I'm completely gray - in fact, I look like Santa, I'm a pot smoker, and because I didn't watch my diet - I wear a colostomy bag on my stomach. They didn't do this to me - I did it to myself. When we blame our victimizers and shout to the wind that they should have known better - well, it stands to reason that we should too and so whatever self-harm we're causing or whatever limitations we have in terms of meeting people or forming relationships can't be blamed on them. I know it's never that easy but it is basic common sense.

One final thing - humans have a history of being able to overcome and while I still self abuse - it's not all negative. I have a wonderful and supportive wife that makes me tow the line - for over 30-years now, we have two amazing children and our first grand baby will turn 1 - on March 11th. For whatever reason, I think it's because I look like Santa - she absolutely adores me - cracks a smile the moment I enter the room she's in. I am self employed, we're homeowners, we eat out more than we cook in, a couple of years ago we rescued a dog set to be euthanized, that absolutely adores us and the family that my daughter married into actually likes us.

Your post is articulate and eloquent - you have every right to feel the way you do - but you have to find a way to come to terms with it - because it will consume you. You're far smarter than I was at your age - don't allow the people or person that caused you harm to have a controlling influence on your life - this is YOUR life and based on what I read in your post - you'll prevail and do quite nicely.*

Things like this are why we need to have a licensing procedure for people who want to procreate.
There should be psychological evaluations. There should be educational requirements. There should be home stability requirements. There should be genetic screening. There should be drug/alcohol/addiction testing and evaluations.

Just because people have sperm or a uterus/egg combination doesn't mean that they should breed.

Hugs Melanie, it sounds like you have had a dreadful time. Stay strong