Don’t worry, I’ll protect her…..
An open letter to my mother….
Shame on you. Shame.on.you.
I do not give a flying rat’s ass what you went through as a child that makes you think you can justify abuse toward a child.
You are a grown adult. Get help. Heal. Fix your crap.
And if you got better than what you gave… shame on you.
Silence? Choice.
No action? Choice.
Staying? Choice.
When you stand by an abusive man, you are just as guilty. There is no way around that BIG truth.
You also showed us girls what we deserved and what our worth was. We learned we deserved abusive men. So, we all married one just like you, Mom.
We became you.
I was fortunate enough to somehow know my worth as a very young woman, to understand that what I was in was not okay, and that my girls and I deserved better.
I was blessed enough to find a really good man. A man your husband believes is like him.
That’s a joke, right?
I see now why he pitted us against each other. He had to isolate her.
Mom. How do you not see it?
He made her look like she was off her rocker and then you did too….while he was abusing her the worst. That is WHY she was acting the way she did.
Then he had the audacity to call me an evil disappointment, tell me I’m an awful person, throwing scripture in my face… while being a pedophile.
And he said that just days after I had a seizure in my husband’s arms, stopped breathing, while my son watched.
Does that make you proud of him?
Does that say, “I’m a good man?”
No.
It’s true, we all project. I wonder if that’s how he feels about himself, an evil disappointment.
Because good people produce more good.
He produced harm. And now I know the truth. She was never the problem. You were. He is. But not her.
Something inside you is so broken, and instead of fixing it… you repeated it and passed it on.
I will not stay silent or be silenced.
You see, I was always the sister who spoke up… who protected, who stood up to bullies…even inside our own home.
If you messed with my sister… I became your problem.
I became a fierce protector because we were never protected.
Did you know I used to see bruises on her all the time and thought most of them came from kids at school?
So I went after the biggest, baddest girl there. I threatened her because that’s what I do, Mom. I protect.
Only to find out as an adult all those bruises were coming from inside our own home.
I threatened the wrong person.
As a child, I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. I concluded all the bruises on her weren’t from him so someone else had to also be hurting her.
But it was ALL him. Not school. Not bad friends. Him.
Do you know why I am so disciplined and have self-control?
Because I know I can never lose it.
I know exactly how far I will go to protect a child, the innocent, the abused, the silenced, MY sister.
So I took on that role. And the thing is, Mom… I’m good at it. Because I’ve been doing it my whole life.
Unlike you, I have experience protecting. My husband and kids could tell you all the stories. They never understood why before but now they do.
My son said he loves that I stand up to bullies.
So because of what I had to endure, my child sees me as someone he admires and looks up to.
That’s a gift.
You and I took different paths. You have post-traumatic stress disorder. I have post-traumatic growth.
And all it took was one choice, to give a better life to my children. That choice became a mission: be the mom I never had.
I even did it for you too, Mom.
Remember when that girl called you a bitch?
I ran after her. We fought. Two girls had to pull me off.
So I’m wondering, Mom… what do you think I will do now?
You have a choice to make.
You can stay with a known abuser, or for once in your life, stand up for your child.
Why do you carry? Who are you protecting? Because it’s not us.
Some of the abuse in our home was never directed at me, but I experienced some and I had to physically stand up for my sister against a grown adult.
And you knew.
I told you multiple times. I called you because it happened when you were gone…which told me, even as a kid, he knew it was wrong.
Do you remember your response?
“I can’t deal with this right now.” Or you would hang up on me. A child pleading for help.
Then later, always the same thing: “I talked to him.”
Never, “I’m sorry you had to defend your sister.”
Never, “He’s sorry.”
Never, “Tell me what happened.”
Never, “Do you need help.”
Never. No outrage. Nothing.
I was a child protecting another child. That wasn’t my job. It was yours.
But since you gave me that job, the one I now boldly and proudly own, I will protect her.
I will believe her, since you don’t. I will help her get help so she can heal and stop allowing you all to have power over her.
Do you remember your response when I told you to tell him to leave me alone and how off gone he is and that he needs help?
“I talked to him.”
And that’s when I realized, you hadn’t changed. You were the same.
And I’m sad for you.
I’m sad you never got a love like mine. I’m sad you don’t know your worth like I do. I’m sad you choose harm over healing.
What happened to my sister is not her fault. It’s yours. His. But not hers.
When she told you about the abuse, she didn’t have me in her corner.
She told me through tears no one believed her. I told her I did.
She asked, “Why would it be different now?”
My response, “Because you have me. I believe you. I’m what makes this different this time.”
Before, she did the right thing. She told an adult as a kid. She wasn’t helped.
Now she has a sister who believes her and will not be silenced. I will do for her what no one did, even knowing.
Do you know why I’m an advocate against pornography, Mom?
Because I saw what it did to you and your marriage.
Do you know I’ve done hours of research?
Do you know I’m educated on the signs of abuse?
No one taught me what abuse was. I just lived it.
I’ve learned that homes with abuse don’t talk about it because it would expose the truth.
But you should be proud of me, Mom.
I taught my kids about abuse. We started when they were little.
I even taught them that abuse by family is still abuse and wrong.
That’s what healthy moms do.
No one taught me that. I built my own map.
And I gave my children far better than what was given to me.
All from one choice.
To. Do. Better.
My gosh, Mom… do you remember what she was like before you married him?
She had a glow about her. Something none of us could match.
She was silly. Carefree. Magnetic. And you both stole that from her.
It wasn’t yours to take. She was innocent.
I miss that version of my sister.
Even before I knew all of this, I knew she was treated like garbage and I never understood why.
She got the worst of it. And she never deserved any of it.
He had anger issues. And clearly more issues than I ever knew about.
She minded her business. She never fought back. I did that for her.
It’s time for me to step back into that role again. Since you won’t.
Not all of us will be silenced.
Not all of us will carry your sins.
You don’t get silence from me.
I’m no longer the little girl calling you for help, I’m a grown ass woman with a strong backbone.
I hope you can make the right choice this time. Because it’s not going away. I’ve brought it right to your front door, where it belongs.
Living through family abuse often leaves deep scars that are not visible to the outside world. From my own experience and those I've listened to, the silence and denial within families make healing even harder. The bravery shown by someone who finally speaks up, like the sister in this letter, is incredibly powerful. It takes strength to confront painful truths and break the cycle of abuse that can span generations. One thing I've learned is how crucial it is to believe survivors, especially when they feel isolated and unheard by those who should protect them. The letter highlights the devastating impact when parents fail to act against abuse, forcing children to take on protective roles prematurely. This only compounds the trauma but also often cultivates fierce resilience and determination. Another key insight is the importance of educating children about abuse early on, as the author did with her own kids. Teaching children that abuse, even by family members, is never their fault and is always wrong is vital. It empowers them to recognize unhealthy behavior and provides them with the confidence to seek help. The journey from post-traumatic stress to post-traumatic growth is possible, as demonstrated in the letter. It shows that choosing to do better and become a protective parent can transform pain into purpose. Additionally, understanding the signs of abuse and the influence of pornography on family dysfunction, as the author researched, can help others identify and prevent harm. By sharing personal experience combined with research, she creates a valuable resource for anyone struggling in similar situations. Ultimately, this letter is a reminder that silence protects harm, while speaking out can save lives. Advocating for survivors, breaking harmful patterns, and fostering strong supportive environments are crucial steps toward healing and hope for a better future.
Wow. I am quite impressed with the open letter to your mom!! I'm so grateful that you chose to share it here. I can relate to so much of what you wrote, and I, too, lived in a home with a lot of turmoil and trauma. As a trauma survivor myself, I am so proud of you!! It's a brave thing to do, and there are so many people silently suffering as adults, many of whom carry the shame that doesn't belong to them. It's wonderful that you found a good man in your husband. I'm happy for you and the family you built in a very different way than you grew up in!! I have a sister who is three years older than I am. We both suffered abuse by our father. Our mother had Multiple Sclerosis and Addison's Disease, both of which I believe were likely a result of her own childhood trauma, the years of abuse, and ongoing stress in her marriage to my dad. He had bouts of rage that (seemingly) came out of nowhere. We watched him yank the doors off the kitchen cabinets in one fell swoop. He cheated on my mom, and when I was a very young child, I witnessed him kissing a woman, the wife of a couple who had come to our house for dinner, at our home. I never mentioned it to anyone (I was probably four or five years old), yet I still knew that it was wrong! I I have had my own issues, certainly not a surprise. I have struggled with health problems (literally since my birth). I have two autoimmune diseases, Sjögren's Syndrome and Behçet's Disease. As I mentioned, my mom had Multiple Sclerosis, which is also an autoimmune disease, and Addison's Disease, which was most likely a result of severe stress her entire life, living every day in the fight or flight mode, literally causing her adrenal glands to be overworked, resulting in non-functioning adrenal glands in her late thirties. She passed away when she was only 53, from colon cancer. We each have a story to tell, and far too many people find it too difficult to share such personal and painful experiences. Thank you, Tracey, for sharing!