StarDancer's Story Continues
Life went on..with "Mommy Dearest"..sometimes life was good others it was hell...I was an o.k student...then I started public school...I failed 3rd grade three times...I had a lot of trouble with math...to this day math eludes me...I didn't know it then but I had a learning disability...kind of a numerical dyslexia...I wasn't able to tell time til I was 16 years old...this made me different from a lot of kids...yet when I was tested ...my scores were extremely high...turns out I was somewhat of a genius...(I didn't feel like one)...I had a very classical upbringing...I was immersed in the arts...mama was an artist...an excellent one at that...I too love color and shape and texture to this day.
I was surrounded with music...I studied piano...guitar...and took voice lessons,the man who trained me said I was going to be the next Ethel Merman..I had some lung power...still do.
I was also immersed in dance...I studied tap..ballet...modern jazz...I loved dance...the feel of the body being pushed to it's limit...the movement...so beautiful.
But mama made me feel like some trained dog...and I hated that...she liked to show me off...dress me in clothes she designed...I hated the parade...one time I took a pair of sissors and cut all my clothes to shreds.
Mama knew how to take something I loved and turn it into a thing of torment for me.A way to needle me...make me feel like I wasn't worth anything.It was the beatings I hated most.It seemed they got more and more frequent...I would get hit or slapped for any small infraction. Or she would think up the most awful punishments...like locking me in a closet...telling me I could rot in there for all she cared...and when I would try to make it right ..whatever I had done wrong she wouldn't speak to me...she would withdraw from me .
I had a facination with fire...I loved fire...one day in pun- ishment mama held my hand over the flame of the stove and burned my hand...to teach me a lesson!
I had long beautiful golden blonde hair when I was growing up..even that became a souce for torture for me...she would brush and brush and tear at my hair which for some reason became easily tangled...and when she got mad sometimes she would yank me by the hair til handfuls came out...or once when she got mad she was tryng to brush my hair..and it was badly tangled..she said she had enough...and grabbed some sissors and just cut the whole thing off in one swoop...I was terrified I thought she was going to kill me with the sissiors...I looked dreadful afterwards...all I remember was crying so hard.Then to add insult to injury..she had my hair made into a bun for herself ...and dyed it red and wore it all the time...that really hurt...it was a constant reminder of her cruelty.
Back in the 50's children were property to do with as you please...no social services to run to like today...So many times I wanted to end my life...but I had a Catholic upbringing at this point and was terrified of hell...I knew I was going to hell because I was a horrible creature...mama told me so...she called me a little hellion many times.
I grew angrier and angrier as time went on...there was no place for me to run...I retreated into my own world further and further...mama and I grew further and further apart...I came to hate her , I began to express myself in poetry as I got older....macabre', bloody, rebellious poetry...she even managed to ruin that for me...by giving my book of poetry I collected with artwork to go with it to a friend of hers ...who wanted to get it published...I was angry as she proceeded to give a critique' of my feelings , my expression...my only outlet...my soul felt raped.
The 60's came around...I was an adolescent by then...As my hormones kicked in..I became a force to be reckoned with...my anger grew and grew...I became quite the rebel...I hated society...mama was obsessed with family background...and wanted me to join the D.A.R.(Daughter's of the American Revolution) I just wasn't into that...I wanted to go study with the Native Americans...I loved their culture so much...and I am as white as white bread...English anscestory...all the way back to Henry the 8th..Whatever she loved I would hate...and whatever she hated I would love...I know you would think this is typical behavior...but believe me I took it to the extreme.
It seemed like mama and I just always fought and screamed at each other...in my family whoever could scream the loudedest would win.Sometimes things would quiet down a bit..but mama would needle me any chance she got.
One day I had gone down the street to play with some kids...but mama didn't want me there..cause' they were trash...she had this obsession with this...if you weren't of a certain background you were trash...not worthy of her time..well she came after me...and snatched me by my hair in front of them...and dragged me into the car and took me home...as I was getting out of the car she told me I was going to get the life beat out of me and I believed her...well I started running....daddy behind me saying he was going to kill me...I ran as fast as my feet could carry me...I was terrified...and I knew if I stopped I would surely die. I made my way to another neighborhood....it was pouring down rain...I ended up sneaking in to a drive-in movie to kill time...it was late and the rain continued to come down...well I ran into a bunch of kids and they said they knew where a treehouse was I could stay in...turns out it was a 3 story treehouse...I ended up staying there a week I think...the neighborhood kids would bring me food...I don't know how long I thought I could stay there...but finally the cops found me..and I had to go home...I dreaded it..Mama ended up sending me off for 3 years to a Catholic convent run by Good Shepherd nuns...basically it was a type of reform school.
I hated that school and always went into flights of fancy about running away and sailing to England on a raft.
I hated those nuns...they were cruel and cold...they would yell all the time. But at least they couldn't hit you . Life was spent going to school and going to church and working...but I did good in school there.I poured myself into reading and learning..and plotting getting out of there.But I was there for three years..I refused to let them break me...I spent most of my time in trouble..mostly because of attitude.They weren't to happy with me.
I Am A Proud Member Of: Phenomenal Women Of The Web
Page created 5/4/97
Page updated 8/9/97
Life With Mommy Dearest : The Stormy Years
StarDancer Begins To Fight Back
Home