She said, and hung up again. We had been doing this all night; back n forth hanging up on each other. I felt 12yrs old all of a sudden; as girls we would talk for hours. She had often told me how crazy I was, especially trying to convince me her brother molesting me was “no big deal, he had just gotten fresh!” I never understood why n it always hurt deeply, but she was my best friend n best friends love u, right?
How could u do this? I raged at her. I had put all the pieces together n was horrified she was involved. She had done things to me before; deceitful things, but I always forgave her. She would often lecture me about God, bring up the fact I didn’t see “the Family,” n tell me I wasn’t very good to my mother, which always made me feel guilty, ashamed, n more than willing to forgive. How could she plot w my ex n my mother to have everything in my life destroyed? It was a nightmare lately! Everything I had was brutally gone now!
“That’s why no one likes u Rhonda!” No one wants anything to do w u! I let her go on as I always had, only this time I heard what I needed to know; her complicity in the destruction of my 20yr marriage, setup deliberately to fraud me out of a lifetime of assets; including my modest, but lovely 20yr home, my new car, n just about everything else I had; including my sweet dog. My business, my art; my career! What was I going to do? I was rough sleeping in sub-zero temperatures n she could careless. I had been there so many times for her; never judging, always supportive. She had gotten pregnant at 16yrs old, was often very promiscuous, n had been selling Pot w her boyfriend before they got married. He was older at 21yrs old n I often found myself fighting off the guys they set me up w—I was just 14yrs old! I never put her down, but her slut-shaming me was constant because I was selfish for going to college, not having children, n she would tell me the story of the “Prodigal Son.”
She was becoming a Jehovah Witness like her 1/2 sister n lectured all the time. Today I would say SpiritualAbuse. Lillian, her mother already had a daughter “out of Wed-lock,” that talked about Armageddon all the time, terrorizing us all about “End-times,” n the hell we were all going to. She was exempt of course; chosen, one of the 144,000 guaranteed to go to heaven. She was extremely abusive n I often wondered how that gave her such authority, but I never dared raise my voice to her either. She was my Godmother, but I was often dismissed by her also.
We would b quizzed at dinner on Bible verses when I stayed there as a little girl. I came to dislike eating dinner together w them also, but I was told her husband was n “elder,” chosen by God. My cousin told me he Sexually assaulted my cousin n the other boy cousins; molested my Godmother’s daughter, but who argues w n elder when ur 10yrs old. She had a little dog named Benji; white, little fluffy bundle of love, but they kept him tied to the stove. He got visibly upset about the abuse of this little cousin. His anxiety disturbing. He died, not living too long—it was horrible to watch them abuse her n little Benji dog.
The pains in my stomach awful as her daughter from another relationship was usually called on to recite verbatim these long verses. It was tense as he would glare at her, then laugh when she made a mistake. She usually got them right, but it didn’t matter. He would just demand more. She was only about 5 or 6yrs, I was about 10, n this other cousin, my then best-friend about 12yrs old. She was so beautiful w long wavy brown hair, so little trying to get these names right as this Godmother demanded she repeat these verses n scold when she would just mispronounce one or two names; it was horrible to watch.
“Your talking about Human-Trafficking,” she raged, sneered n could no longer hold back her sly, lecturing style she used to shut me down. “That’s so crazy,” she raged on in that icy Doctor/patient way she always talked to me w. I felt my heart hurt wondering what she could possibly call being setup to marry a man that tells people I was just a whore to b used; convincing all the Judges, Lawyers, n Cops involved the marriage never existed. I was crazy according to him too. I thought of all the times we made love n felt myself wanting to puke that she along w my mother had slept w him; constantly picked fights to keep me so isolated over the years, n worked together to have me out on the street, made homeless w nothing after luring me home n throwing me out.
“You had a Psychotic-break,” she said—Schizophrenic! I couldn’t believe she continued this lie. She had repeated this numerous times recently as if to make it seem true like she did w most things she wanted to convince me weren’t true until I couldn’t take it, often being sorry I allowed her to reach out to me or get her daughter or someone else to say she wanted to talk to me only to have things dissolve into her telling me I was crazy. I knew now is was to check to see if I knew. If I knew it had all been a horrible lie from the start they planned.
They had all been friends since they were kids; my ex-husband, her cousins, n her brother n his friends. When I attended her cousin “Lenny’s” funeral his sister actually bragged about how they all went to school together in the WestEnd of Town as kids, but at the time I only thought it a nice thing; nothing horribly deceptive like it turned out to b. Lenny had been alcoholic, had been in a bad car accident, n had moved in w my mother n 1/2 brother after they lured me home n kicked me out after just a couple months. This best-friend refused to speak to me after convincing me to come home calling me the night before I was to move home; raging she had a knife n was going to do something to the woman upstairs. Her name was supposedly Rhonda too n she would often pretend I was doing what she did. Going out all the time; drunk, sleeping w her husband I was told. I wasn’t even seeing her this time very much, but the lies continued. She hung up telling me all I do is “listen to Rock music!” I was shocked, moving home in the morning after we talked about spending time together at the beach all Summer.
I thought my job as n Assistant District Manager had ended due to having been told to fire my staff member that was excellent n I refused, at the Photography Studio I worked out of. CPI owned a chain of Studios all over the US in Sears plaza. I loved the job; my first after college after working at Macy’s. I needed full-time n they were in the Mall. I traveled, never had a Photo package that didn’t all sell, n was offered numerous studios in other locals I had thought of taking; Florida, Idaho, n a couple others.
I traveled to Florida, but trouble started as soon as I got there after interviewing people for a couple positions I was told by the local District Manager I didn’t “hire the Black applicant,” which wasn’t true. I hadn’t hired anyone, wasn’t sure I wanted to stay in Florida, n found out she had been angry the district was going to b divided n I would get the other half. She was causing all kinds of problems. I found out later it was all done on purpose to lure me home. Causing trouble where I worked was ongoing n I learned recently all deliberate to make me look “incompetent;” had problems getting along, which they told me after threatened “they had psychologists,” by my mother. The Doctor cousin they bragged about husband also threatened about her getting psychologists after me she worked w at St Mary’s Hospital.
In the end I left Florida, not impressed w the job n the mean way this District Manager acted. I was also never a “Snow-bird,” like so many that had LakeHouse’s on the Sacandaga Lake, NY. I loved the lake all year round; loved to ski, n knew I would miss the seasons. I suppose it was also because my Father had left to move there after my parents divorced after 1yr of marriage. I couldn’t see him n courts gave my mother full-custody based on her lies that he was n abuser. He was never abusive to me n she raged about him often. She was now aligned w my ex-husband doing the same to me along w this ex best-friend, who was her cousin. We were related in odd ways I found confusing as a child n it was always used to shun me.
My Grandmother’s uncle, “Uncle Irvin” took up w a “bar-maid,” after his marriage ended the story went. He was old, went to the seedy part of town to meet this woman, that today might b called a Prostitute—Lillian. She immediately had 2 children that became my Grandmother’s cousins; the age gaps pronounced.
Once he was there often at Carmel’s Diner, a seedy bar/diner, my mother ended her marriage n met Lilian’s little brother “Buddy.” My mother would often say Lillian lived right behind my Dad n his parents on VanderVeer Street implying Lillian was up to no good then too! She attacked my Grandmother repeatedly, n often dismissive of me in ways I would only understand after she passed.
Being “blond, blue-eyed,” was everything to her n this cousin n their family. They were Indigenous n today I understand some of the extremism that unleashed their violence as White Supremacy. The jealously n rage to b royalty, upscale; have servants like my Grandmother’s family. Today I know why my Grandmother n her siblings parted ways. My Grandmother was not Racist, WhiteSupremist, or filled w hatred for others. She didn’t raise me that way either n today I’m grateful, even though it’s been extremely painful uncovering the deceitful lies from these people that called themselves family n friends!
My Grandmother was very different from Lillian’s dark, slovenly, crude demeanor. Lillian read violent Porn constantly, was often dirty, n had nothing nice to say about my Grandmother or me. Alice, who could of been a Fashion model n had exquisite taste. Beautiful, she was also blond, blue-eyed, tall, Fashion model thin n had such Class that most of them didn’t dare start trouble while she was alive. Lillian was short, heavy, not as smart as my Grandmother n would often gossip n lie about her. Growing up I was told Class was not to indulge their crudeness by Alice or “Gram;” the name my Grandmother liked to b called when I was little.
She was quite exceptional, winning numerous trophies for Archery, starting her own business at a time when women didn’t n was always reading, learning or accomplishing things. She was my support in everything n kept so much in line w all these people. After she passed, they plotted n schemed to take the beautiful trailer she left me; concerned I had been thrown out by my mother when they all convinced me to come home, but it had all been a deception. My Grandmother had started having health problems n passed a few years later, by then they had fixed me up w this friend of theirs that pretended not to know any of them really. He admitted my best-friends cousin had been doing too much Heroin, but that was why they had drifted apart. He never mentioned how friendly he was w all of them, so friendly he had slept w this best friend years before when they were in her brother’s wedding together. He never told me about her or sleeping w my mother.
“Why would he sleep w n old hag?” she sneered. I don’t believe he slept w ur mother. It’s what quite a few women told me at the Jail, I said n she bragged about being a MILF! I said! on video for God sakes, how much proof do u need? But, it was like my mother being shown photos of parties she attended w all these people n raging she never saw them when I finally was forced to confront her. I hadn’t seen her since I was first married except for funerals, wedding n she told people she didn’t want me to know where she lived even though she moved a couple miles from my Lakehouse after we first purchased it.
I knew this so-called best-friend she always told me she was, was finally having a hard time refuting all the lies. I finally had so much evidence it was spilling out of my mouth in waves of pain, awareness, n clarity—I had found my voice! There were so many lies piling up, I could feel something in me growing stronger n stronger as I finally found my strength to confront this woman who had terrorized me my whole life. She was also so much like my mother.
I had to laugh because if Kundalini was crazy, it sure was taking me on quite the journey anyway. My throat Chakra vibrated w the words to tell her what I thought! To finally after all the years of trying to appease her—to use one of her “Bible parables,” rebuke her! I had always choked. My father a successful singer w a cool band I dreamed of singing w n yet after all the abuse I was too self-conscious to sing in front of others. Their cousin was the singer, not me. Buddy’s “blood” daughter from his first marriage, not me was the singer they praised all the time. She was also part of the deceit; friends w my ex since they were kids. I never knew how they were all connected. He lied about all these relationships blaming me about not getting along w people, starting trouble when I asked, n saying I made things up when they constantly started fights.
I learned to b quiet, so quiet in fact it wasn’t until they locked me up in a Psych ward telling me I made up everything that I sang in front of everyone for the first time! Relaxed, confident, my voice to my surprise singing. It was just Karaoke, but it felt good. People clapped, told me nice things, n I had fun. My voice filled the room n the self consciousness was gone. It was only one of the few nice things that happened to me there, but it was a start. Kundalini had cleared my Throat Chakra that had been blocked since the Trauma of losing my Dad n being told such awful lies about him n myself. It was so bad I failed Music Theory in college. I didn’t know why then; I loved Music, but I just couldn’t do it.
Yes, I thought when a man rapes a woman for 20yrs it has a name. I never would have said yes to a man that only intended to use me as a whore, maid—slave. I was told right away online it was a “20yr Rape,” but it took me awhile; a lot of dark nights of the soul, to b able to process, accept, n release the horrible pain of this. I made love to my then husband, what he was doing he will have to b accountable to God for that.
“Did you go to church?” was a constant question in my marriage, my MIL a member of the Rosary Society n went all the time—Orthodox Roman Catholic, but I guess learning now of her Racism, WhiteSupremacy, n thinking of me just as a servant; she will have to answer for that. “If her n her sister wanted to leave u something they would have,” Judges sneered at me. My MIL n all her sisters were quite well off; she was elderly, blind n her other sister I took care of mentally ill, but constantly pretended they had very little insinuating I was looking to b married just for money whenever questions about why all our money was so entwined; leaving me w nothing was no big deal—I was just a “Polish maid!”
“Can she break in my shoes?” my MIL asked my ex one time about me. It was dismissed as just increasing senility; what else could it possibly b? Today I know her odd behavior was deliberate. Her n her son had no boundaries, it seemed incesteous at times; they were like husband n wife, but he would often say it was because his parents were so old. My FIL almost 90 when he passed the Christmas we got engaged. The excuse my MIL used to ruin most of the Christmases we shared. I worked tirelessly to please her, but today know her abuse was in part only a projection on me of her own. Her husband more like n elderly father she took care of rather than a husband. My husband more like her boyfriend. Her demands endless, the games were constant w the two of them enjoying their secret. I was taking care of a demanding, blind, elderly MIL; they were pretending I was a servant.
My best-friend the same. I was always waiting on her before we could play. Get her shampoo, go to the store, borrow my new clothes. I just wanted to play n escape the abuse at home, so getting these things were no big deal before we could ride our bikes, swim at the local public pool it get ice-creams at the local ice-cream shop—Stewart’s. It was easier then he threats of not going swimming, so I would give in. The boys liked her better, she said n so did the family. I know today they were never my family, but back then I struggled to understand no matter what she did it was ok, but as hard as I tried nothing I did was ever good enough.
I’ve been w 2 men! I yelled, my voice rising as the years of being told I was dirty by her broke out of my lungs in waves of truth n strength. I wanted to b a virgin when I married believing in all the fairy tales about true love. I was engaged to both men; the second one I married, the first cheated on me. “What’s ur number,” I demanded, finally wanting to put n end to her condescending lectures about how I was dirty whenever we talked about her brother. Sexual assaults being ok, if ur dirty, she insinuated, calling me every so often over the years to see if I would agree. Only now I can finally give it back to her about their inappropriate relationship, which is probably why his molesting me was no big deal. The problem is they didn’t stop stalking me. One time her daughter telling me she almost died from n early hysterectomy. I went to see her right away, but it ended the same way; her rage about her brother n other inappropriate family members.
I knew she was getting angrier n angrier telling me now I was harassing her! She, like everyone else going to “call the cops!” Being molested by her brother as a girl, forcing me to watch them masturbate was one thing; what she was now involved in w my ex was beyond comprehension for me. I hadn’t seen her in years until the threats from her n her new husband I had a psychotic break, she did the same when I first married when I wanted my name on our home n the Lakehouse we bought.
I had been talked into selling the trailer my Grandmother left to me right before we got married, but I was told by everyone I was making a big deal out of nothing—we were husband n wife! Mr n Mrs, it’s implied it’s 50/50—why wasn’t I getting along? Why did I have to start trouble so soon after we just married. It must b my feminism n I need to learn to b a “good wife!” My best-friend agreed w my ex n my MIL to go “talk to someone,”—u know because u seem so upset, maybe it will help. You seem tired, stressed; maybe “see a Priest,” my MIL soothingly told me—it might b good.
I went only a couple times, “Peg” from Crossroads Counseling w St Mary’s Hospital assured me, there was nothing wrong w me, “u married into a Traditional Family, n just need to learn to get along w them.” U can pay me to b ur friend if u want to continue coming, she laughed, but u need to just move forward w ur life, make friends, n pursue the Art u said u want to; the Graphic Designer career. It seemed simple enough, but when I told my ex n my best-friend they both felt I had not told the truth, that somehow I had way more problems then I had admitted. I argued a bit w both of them; my best-friend hanging up on me angry about me not admitting I was crazy n my ex telling me how much he loved me n that I worry too much n need to relax that I worry too much.
I was as so worried about what all these people thought of me, getting along, n not being seen as someone “who married for money,” I stopped talking about being independent, needing my name on things—I was a wife! I wanted to b a good wife n so many people I loved had all these doubts. My voice went that day; only now after all these years later returning, as I rage against the injustice of what they conspired; writing, talking, confronting! I hear my MIL; ghosts, memories long gone returning to clear old traumas, blockages, pain.
“Goodwives don’t continue on about money” she would insinuate. “Did u go to church?” I hear her saying, as she always did to any objections I raised, often just ignoring me; my ex having to remind her I was talking to her or had asked her a question, which she rarely would answer—her silence crushing.
Kundalini energy keeps swirling around, clearing all the lies away. It does seem crazy n yet I feel stronger than I ever had. The Science now finding there is in fact energy at the base of the spine that can b released. I hear the phone click by my childhood best-friend as it has so often over the years n yet this time I feel empowered, strong; now remembering that strong girl I used to b before I was told to b a good wife rather than n authentic human being, a person—individual! A person that has a right to her experiences, feelings, viewpoints—her story, the truth!
If u don’t want to call it Kundalini that’s ok—call it empowered, centered; a woman w her voice! I no longer felt bounded by her rejection of me n was finally free of needing to prove anything; defend myself against her lectures or argue about their Sexual abuse. My voice strong again, steady; I hang up the phone grateful I’m finally free of this kind of abuse; not all best-friends have ur back n well-being—love u! Some plot for years to destroy u; increasing the lethal poison they inflict on u until ur dead n they pretend to not have had any idea. That was my childhood best-friend that now can go fuck herself! There is the cure—love! n that is what Kundalini energy ultimately is, which is why to her it’s crazy.
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