I am supposed to write an essay about my relationship with my mother, father, step parents and any siblings that I have. any suggestions or corrections would be much appreciated. Thanks in advance for your help.
Jennifer Lorraine Dorey was born in the hot summer on July 20, 1978. My mother has often reminded my how miserable she was that summer, being hot and pregnant. My parents were not married when I was born and because of this I was not allowed to take my fathers last name. He never signed my birth certificate. My parents were both 20 when I was born. Shortly after I was born my mother became pregnant again,. My parents decided to get married when they found out she was having a boy. On July 10, 1979 the family pride was born. A boy!! Thomas Lee Mayse had arrived. My parents were ecstatic to have him finally arrive healthy and happy. Things started to go down from there with my parents. They were divorced before I was 2. I am not sure why, I have heard different reasons from both them. It's something I will never know the true answer to. My mother, brother and I all moved in with my grandparents. I didn't see my father again until I was 16. At this point is my earliest childhood memory. I remember vividly my mother telling me I was the mistake that ruined her life. She wished I had never been born. She went into a sort of depression after this and really didn't have much to do with me at all. My mother remarried when I was 5 to my step-father, he moved in with us at my grandparents home. Shortly after they bought a house 2 blocks away and we moved there. Things seemed to be looking up. My mom was happy again and I was getting attention from my step-father. My mom always ignored my, but I learned quickly not to let it bother me. When I was 7 or 8 I really started to notice the attention that my brother got that I did not. If it was my birthday, he got something to so that he wouldn't feel left out. If I did my chores and got allowance, he got the same amount, even if he didn't do any chores. When I complained and asked my mother about this, she told me "The world is a cruel,cruel place and I'm trying to teach you how to be disappointed" She also tole me "Boys are better than girls, and therefore can get away with more, get used to it." There were several other things she said to me on a regular basis that I do not remember. My mother and I were never close because of this. She only had room in her heart for one child and that child was not me. I kept dreaming things would change and she would figure out how wonderful I was and then magically start loving me. I eventually gave up on that and started dreaming of a night in shinning armor to rescue me. When I was in trouble her famous words could be heard from down the street. "JENNIFER LORRAINE YOU JUST WAIT UNTIL YOUR FATHER GETS HOME!" She knew I feared him more than anything in the world. What she didn't know was why. Since I was little she always told me that girls got what they deserved when men abused them. So when my step-father started sexually abusing me when I was 10 I believed it was my own fault. He told me never to speak to my mother about it, because if I did she would know what a little whore I was. I didn't want my mother to hate me any more than she already did, so I kept my mouth closed. By the time I was 13 and a freshman in high school I knew my place in the family. Stay quit, mind my own business and do nothing to make my mother mad.
My relationship with my brother suffered when I was a child because of the resentment I had for him. I envied him so much. I wanted what he had. He was the outgoing blonde haired, blue eyed boy that all the girls fawned over. I was the geeky little girl that everyone made fun of. People always think he is the older sibling because of our family dynamic. I always followed him and his friends around trying to play with them. Once I figured out that they only let me tag along to have someone to make fun of, I quit going. I tried my best to stay away from everyone. I found an old abandoned tree house and would pretend it was my home. I had a stash of books, a pillow and a blanket. I would curl up in the corner and read my books and pretend I was the main character. My brother and I were constantly fighting when we were home together. My mother would break it up and once again utter those words I so hated to hear... "Wait until your father gets home." I'd go to my room and sob into my pillow. I knew if she heard me crying it would only be worse when he did get home. At 4:00 sharp everyday my step-father would walk in the door and ask if we were good that day. Undoubtedly my mother would say no Jennifer was fighting with Thomas today. She needs to be punished. So, my step-father would walk to the back of the house to my room and tell me to go get a switch off the tree in the back yard. We had a weeping willow tree in the center of our yard. It had long wispy branches and I had to make double sure to pick just the right one. Not to short, long, thin or thick. I made the mistake once of picking a stick that was short and thin. I thought this stick should not hurt at all its so small and thin I will barely feel it. It hurt worse than any I had ever picked before or after. I don't know if that day he hit me harder or if it was the stick itself that hit the hardest of all the sticks. Either way, I never chose a stick like that again. Now that I have chosen my stick, I head back in the house to receive my punishment. Steeling my nerves for what I know will come. I have to pull my pants down and bend over while I get whipped. I know if I cry, he will just say "Shut your mouth before I give you something to cry about!" So I take my punishment as quietly as I can and then retreat to my room. I over hear my brother getting scolded about letting me push him around. I listen carefully to see if he gets a spanking also. I know he wont because he never does. This makes me resent him even more. We are grown up with families of our own now and we still do not talk.
Jennifer Lorraine Dorey was born in the hot summer on July 20, 1978. My mother has often reminded my how miserable she was that summer, being hot and pregnant. My parents were not married when I was born and because of this I was not allowed to take my fathers last name. He never signed my birth certificate. My parents were both 20 when I was born. Shortly after I was born my mother became pregnant again,. My parents decided to get married when they found out she was having a boy. On July 10, 1979 the family pride was born. A boy!! Thomas Lee Mayse had arrived. My parents were ecstatic to have him finally arrive healthy and happy. Things started to go down from there with my parents. They were divorced before I was 2. I am not sure why, I have heard different reasons from both them. It's something I will never know the true answer to. My mother, brother and I all moved in with my grandparents. I didn't see my father again until I was 16. At this point is my earliest childhood memory. I remember vividly my mother telling me I was the mistake that ruined her life. She wished I had never been born. She went into a sort of depression after this and really didn't have much to do with me at all. My mother remarried when I was 5 to my step-father, he moved in with us at my grandparents home. Shortly after they bought a house 2 blocks away and we moved there. Things seemed to be looking up. My mom was happy again and I was getting attention from my step-father. My mom always ignored my, but I learned quickly not to let it bother me. When I was 7 or 8 I really started to notice the attention that my brother got that I did not. If it was my birthday, he got something to so that he wouldn't feel left out. If I did my chores and got allowance, he got the same amount, even if he didn't do any chores. When I complained and asked my mother about this, she told me "The world is a cruel,cruel place and I'm trying to teach you how to be disappointed" She also tole me "Boys are better than girls, and therefore can get away with more, get used to it." There were several other things she said to me on a regular basis that I do not remember. My mother and I were never close because of this. She only had room in her heart for one child and that child was not me. I kept dreaming things would change and she would figure out how wonderful I was and then magically start loving me. I eventually gave up on that and started dreaming of a night in shinning armor to rescue me. When I was in trouble her famous words could be heard from down the street. "JENNIFER LORRAINE YOU JUST WAIT UNTIL YOUR FATHER GETS HOME!" She knew I feared him more than anything in the world. What she didn't know was why. Since I was little she always told me that girls got what they deserved when men abused them. So when my step-father started sexually abusing me when I was 10 I believed it was my own fault. He told me never to speak to my mother about it, because if I did she would know what a little whore I was. I didn't want my mother to hate me any more than she already did, so I kept my mouth closed. By the time I was 13 and a freshman in high school I knew my place in the family. Stay quit, mind my own business and do nothing to make my mother mad.
My relationship with my brother suffered when I was a child because of the resentment I had for him. I envied him so much. I wanted what he had. He was the outgoing blonde haired, blue eyed boy that all the girls fawned over. I was the geeky little girl that everyone made fun of. People always think he is the older sibling because of our family dynamic. I always followed him and his friends around trying to play with them. Once I figured out that they only let me tag along to have someone to make fun of, I quit going. I tried my best to stay away from everyone. I found an old abandoned tree house and would pretend it was my home. I had a stash of books, a pillow and a blanket. I would curl up in the corner and read my books and pretend I was the main character. My brother and I were constantly fighting when we were home together. My mother would break it up and once again utter those words I so hated to hear... "Wait until your father gets home." I'd go to my room and sob into my pillow. I knew if she heard me crying it would only be worse when he did get home. At 4:00 sharp everyday my step-father would walk in the door and ask if we were good that day. Undoubtedly my mother would say no Jennifer was fighting with Thomas today. She needs to be punished. So, my step-father would walk to the back of the house to my room and tell me to go get a switch off the tree in the back yard. We had a weeping willow tree in the center of our yard. It had long wispy branches and I had to make double sure to pick just the right one. Not to short, long, thin or thick. I made the mistake once of picking a stick that was short and thin. I thought this stick should not hurt at all its so small and thin I will barely feel it. It hurt worse than any I had ever picked before or after. I don't know if that day he hit me harder or if it was the stick itself that hit the hardest of all the sticks. Either way, I never chose a stick like that again. Now that I have chosen my stick, I head back in the house to receive my punishment. Steeling my nerves for what I know will come. I have to pull my pants down and bend over while I get whipped. I know if I cry, he will just say "Shut your mouth before I give you something to cry about!" So I take my punishment as quietly as I can and then retreat to my room. I over hear my brother getting scolded about letting me push him around. I listen carefully to see if he gets a spanking also. I know he wont because he never does. This makes me resent him even more. We are grown up with families of our own now and we still do not talk.