I always have had the belief that, when naming your child, try not to pick a name that other kids will make fun of, or that people will mispronounce. Don't misspell your child's name, or worse, make up the spelling yourself. And try not to name your child after an object, such as staple. Life is hard enough. My niece has six children. Five of them are boys. The boy's first names all start with L. The family surname also starts with L. Only the girl's first name starts with A. I forsee that in the future, mail could be mixed up if it's sent to the same address. Mr L.L times five.
I was also, from a very young age, told often that I was beautiful or pretty. My dad loved it, because, being a naricissist, he believed it reflected on him. I don't remember getting any preferential treatment because of it though. My mum also used to use the line that people must be jealous of me if they hurt me or were mean to me. I also went through an anorexic period in my teens, believing that I had to be perfect and that thin was perfect. I was medium height. Girls at high school were, of course relentless. They teased me for my thick eyebrows, as thin eyebrows were the fashion then. They picked on me if I had a few pimples. So did my dad. If they caught sight of my deformed thumbs, they'd pick on me for that and even pretend to vomit. No wonder I still hide them now. Three of my kids, when they were younger, would often call me ugly. Except for my youngest son, who has aspergers. He has, from the time he could speak, always called me beautiful. However, being called beautiful by most of the people in my life has often made me feel sad and inadequate. I knew that I was also smart, among other things. I wanted to feel acknowledged for all the things I am, not just the way I look.
I've been shaving my arms for like, forever. Catching sight of the dark hairs against the pale skin on my arms was distracting to me. I don't have incredibly thick arm hairs, but it felt better to have them gone. I worked with a woman who had such thick fur on her arms and legs, she looked like a werewolf to me. I felt like offering to shave them for her. My daughter, who is 40, used to be so fussy as a teenager. But now, she doesn't seem to care at all about the thick dark hair that grows all over her arms, or the dark moustache, which even has some curly hairs, that grows on her face. I try not to stare, and don't offer my opinion, as she obviously chooses to let the hairs grow free. When my youngest son was a lad, he used to often rub my arms, and say, in a puzzled voice that the skin on my arms was weird. Now he, working from home during iso, has a little beard and moustache, which I kind of think is weird.
My first husband left me with our 2 year old daughter, and our son about to be born. He left me for an older woman from his work, who had more money than him, no kids, and a car. Although she was taller than me ( he had repeatedly told me that I was not his ideal woman, and one of the reasons was that I was not tall enough ), she was not as pretty as me, nor as intelligent as me. She knew that he had a wife and kids, yet she still went with him. A year or two later, I got to talking to her. Apparently he had told her that I kept on wanting to have babies all the time ( not true, as we had planned our second child ), and that supposedly I was a lesbian, and that was why he supposedly left me. All of this was absolutely not true. Even though I told her he was lying, she still chose to be with him for another few years. However, she cheated on him a lot, and when she left, she told him that she didn't want to end up like me, a pregnant single mother on welfare. It was around that time that I got back into the work force. Some partners or spouses can be absolute lying, cheating demons.
I'm looking forward to watching your show. I had three miscarriages with my second husband. His coldness and lack of compassion only added to my despair. I remember also being sent home and told to take a panadol. Repeatedly. In spite of the fact that, with my first miscarriage, I had bleeding and cramping for weeks and weeks and weeks. That's how they treat you in the public health system. When I had my second miscarriage, I was by then on private health care, and the difference was remarkable. My private gyno booked me in for a curette the very next day, and all was good physically, afterwards. It was the sorrow and the psychological scars that took a long time to heal.
How awful for you. I didn't realize there was still so much ignorance about hiv/aids in this day and age.
Sounds a lot like my terrible relationship with my second husband. It was totally miserable. In the end there was very little that was positive about it. I was totally exhausted.
I had my fourth child, who is my youngest, at 40. I did not feel old. He is now 22 and has grown up to be a lovely young man. He loves being such a young uncle to his nieces and nephew who are aged 11, 9, and 12. 50 is a great age to be.
Although I wasn't brought up in a religious household, I can relate to a lot of what you've said. I was a teenager in the late 60's and 70's. The messages then were mixed too : be sexy, but not too sexy, or you'd be labelled a slut; be a nice girl, but not too nice a girl, or you'd be labelled a prude or frigid. And the worst critics of girls were other girls. You could never trust girl friends, because they'd so easily turn into mean girls. I grew up in an abusive household, which made things even harder. My father also often commented negatively on my appearance. I hated it how so many people thought it was their right to comment on and judge my face, hair, and body parts. I was very thin, but I had no so called thin privilege. People aimed harsh words at me constantly: I was "too thin", "flat chested", "didn't eat enough", would "never get a boyfriend" because of my "flat chest". When I had a few pimples, my dad laughingly called me "PIMPLE" in Dutch. I felt constantly humiliated for being myself. I never ever want to be a teenager again.
I disagree with your comment about the average age for a girl's first period having supposedly changed from 17 to 12 or 13. I am 63. Myself and two of my sisters all had our first period at 12. Most of our friends did too. My other two sisters had their first period at 14. My daughter, who is now 40, had her first period at 13. My mum, who is 87, had her first period at 14. For a girl to start her first period at 17, is actually quite late.
Those people with those nasty comments about you being so called too young to be a mum are probably just jealous. 21 is the age of an adult, so there was nothing wrong with you having a child at that age. I had my first child at 22 and actually felt old. The six people in my family who had kids, all had their first child at either their mid to late teens or ealy 20's. A woman's optimal time for childbearing is 25; not 30, 35, or 40 plus. As you pointed out, having a child in your early 20's has so many advantages. Including grandparents that are still young enough to have the energy to deal with their young grandchildren. I think travelling is overrated. I've never had much interest in it myself. In my teens and early 20's, I did some travelling within my state, and that was enough for me. In my early 40's, I went to Queensland with my second ex husband and our young son, for three weeks. That was awesome.
My mum had her youngest/eighth child at 41. My mum is still alive at 87, and my sister, although she has a chronic lung condition, is also still alive in her late 40's. When my sister was born, the rest of us were all pretty close in age, but there was five years difference between my sister and the one before her. Because of this, my mum had several babysitters. We used to fight over who would look after my little sister. I had my last/fourth child at 40. I also refused the amniocentisis. I opted for the blood test instead. When my youngest son was born, his sister was 17 and his two older brothers were 9 and 15. Unfortunately, none of my other children wanted to babysit their youngest brother, not even for 20 minutes while I had a shower. My youngest son is now almost 23 and I am 63. Although he has aspergers, he is the only one of my kids who didn't turn into a narky monster during his teens. He is also the only one of my kids who tells me I'm beautiful.
I didn't get any help until a few years after my second husband and I had split up. Before that, people just judged me and looked down on me. I received no help and no sympathy. My husband bullied me into going back to work when our baby was only 8 months old and still being breast fed. I completely fell apart for years, until I was diagnosed and medicated.
You need to put your foot down. Now. Either your son needs to go to an intensive rehab and detox program, or he has to move out. Each of my four children physically and verbally abused me at some stage in their lives. They were all given consequences. My youngest son was the one who hurt me the least, and who stopped the earliest. He has aspergers, and would sometimes hit or punch me when he was in primary school. His behaviour actually became better once he was in his teens. He is the only one of my children who says I'm beautiful. My daughter, the oldest, stopped abusing me once she'd been living away from home a couple of years, and got off the drugs. My middle son's behaviour also got a lot better once he'd been living away from home for a few years. He still has a drug and alcohol problem though. My youngest son is the only one who doesn't have a drug or alcohol problem. My oldest son, who was my second child, had verbally abused me and broken my things on and off over several years. I had to call the cops and ambulances on him several times in his life. I took two intervention orders out on him. Last year, after the latest intervention order expired, we got back in touch, and mended our bridges. He had changed a lot, and treated me with a lot more respect. We saw each other a few times, and had lots of long, interesting chats on the phone. Unfortunately, three weeks after he last stayed at my place, he passed away from his third bout of infective endocarditis, which was initially related to his use of intravenous drugs. He was just 37. I'm guessing that you have told your son how you feel about his behaviour, but that it might have fallen on deaf ears. I know that you love him and care about him, but you must, for your own sake, your son's sake, and the sake of your younger children, draw the line. You are living in a dangerous situation, but it will not get better while your oldest son's behaviour continues. I wish you all the best.
And yet, there are so many "white" people who do anything and everything to attain darker skin. Double standards.
@emh I totally agree. Provocative pics of young girls can attract all sorts of dangerous, unwanted attention from internet predators, often pretending to be teenage boys. We need to protect our children; even if it means not being their "friend" at times.
Your post is very distressing to read. It is obvious that you need much more help than you are given. You need regular respite care for this child. You can't expect yourself to be super woman. I hope that you soon find the help that you and your adoptive son so desperately need.
I feel so sad for you. He was obviously not a true christian, with his pathetic reasons for not including you in the wedding party. I hope you might reconcile your friendship with your former best friend one day xxx
I guess this poor little boy didn't fit in with the perfect life that this couple wanted to project. So they "rehome" him like an unwanted puppy dog. Now the poor kid is going to feel extra abandoned. This story makes me feel so sad.
That guy really did a number on you. I wonder how many more hearts he's broken since then. I've also been stupid enough to ignore red flags in the past. Never again.