My Say

This whole Josh Duggar situation that is running around the internet like a wildfire has got my blood boiling for so many reasons! On Friday when things just got started I was reacting to comments and posting comments about how he is a child molester, etc. I had to pull myself away from the internet for a while (at least things related to this story) and take some deep breaths.

This whole story and situation has forced many feelings I have about the sexual abuse I suffered at my brother who was just 2 years older than me out in the open again. The abuse started when I was 10 and my brother was 12 and it continued for 2 years. My brother stopped at the same age that Josh Duggar supposedly stopped molesting his sisters. (I believe it probably happened past that but something we may never know) I know for a fact that what happened between me and my brother was not normal behavior for teenagers and I know for a fact that Josh Duggar's sisters did not consent to anything that happened between them. I have heard stories that have reported that the youngest victim was 5 years old. In normal sexual exploration at 14 and 15 you usually experiment with other people your age, not a 5 year old child. If it is true that he sexually molested a 5 year old, then he needs to be charged with this crime. It's a shame that Arkansas only has a 3 year statue of limitations on reporting sexual assault. To me, there should be no limitations on when sexual assault can be reported.

My family did exactly what the Duggars did. We quietly dealt with it and moved on like nothing had ever happened. Josh was still unsupervised with his sisters, just like my brother was unsupervised with me for years. I remember being so afraid when my parents would say that they were going somewhere and my brother and I were staying at home. I knew that once they backed out of the driveway my brother would come at me like an animal. I was terrified of telling anyone and my brother never threatened me if I did tell unlike many victims. There were so many times when I wanted to say something, but I was so afraid I would get in trouble.

I want to scream to the people supporting Josh Duggar that by them supporting Josh  they are telling every girl that has been molested that as long as the person asks for forgiveness then all should be forgiven. There were never any consequences for Josh after all of this came to light. There have been reports that he was sent to Little Rock for 4 months to do some construction and it sounds like they are trying to say that was his "treatment". And what about this police officer they reported all of this to. Seems odd that the same officer they reported to (a family friend supposedly) is now serving a 56 year prison sentence for child pornography.

I hate putting any energy into this "story" that is swirling around the Internet, but I felt like I needed to write about why this whole story upsets and bothers me. I can only imagine what the Duggar girls that were molested are feeling like. I have heard very little about them and all of the focus is on the perpetrator instead of the victims. I am almost 42 and I am still embarrassed over what happened to me. Even tonight before I decided to blog I was worried what some people that read this part of my history would think of me because of the abuse I went through. I know it's not my fault, but the fact that I am still embarrassed 30 years later shows that having your older brother sexually abuse you and make you do things you don't want to, affects you for your entire life. The Duggar girls (and the other victim) are going to live with this for the rest of their life and most likely their future sexual relationships are going to be affected because of what Josh did to them.

I am thankful because I have some beautiful people in my life that have helped me heal from the sexual abuse I suffered. It no longer affects me like it used to and I can go long periods of not even thinking about it. But I do think about it at times and I cry for the little Caroline that had to go through such hard times, but also proud that she did survive.

I found her.

In the last four weeks I have read 4 books!! For someone that didn't read an entire book for more than 10 years...this is a huge accomplishment and I am proud of myself. Three of the books I read were by the author Jennier Lauck and all were about different times in her life. The final book was called Found and it was about Jennifer finding her birth mother, or first mother as she called her. I started the book  on our flight to New York and finished it this afternoon. As I picked it up and read the cover at the hotel on Wednesday night I turned to Dede and said, I am going to cry myself to New York. The book is an easy read and I had read more than half  of it on our first flight and I couldn't believe how the feelings that I have had for so many years were right there in someone else's life. I felt so much reassurance from reading just a part of her book that all these crazy feelings I have had in being reconnected with my birth mom are normal and very common among adoptees when they are reunited with their birth families.

After I was born my birth mom never saw me. I was taken away from her and for three days I was cared for by the nursing staff at the hospital. From as long as I can remember, I always wondered what those first few days were like for me. After reading  Found, I have a better idea as to what my little brain and body was going through every time I realized my Mom was not there. For 9 months I was a part of my Mom and I knew what she smelled like and I knew her voice so it was quite a shock to the newborn Caroline to not hear or smell my Mom.

The other thing that became more and more clear is how I have ached for her touch since the day I was born. Growing up my adoptive Mom tried to be affectionate with me but I rejected her time and time again. At one point when I was a teenager my adoptive Mom tried to hold my hand during a prayer at church and her touch didn't and never did feel right to me. She turned to me and told me that I was so cold hearted (because I wouldn't hold her hand). All through my life I have been searching for her touch that I never experienced as an infant and lucky for me not only did I find my birth Mom, but she wants me in her life and wants a relationship with me.

So many people search for their birth families and so many of them are rejected once again, so I am lucky that my birth mom has been willing to uncover a 40 year old secret and welcome me into her life and heart with everything she has.

Here is the first photo taken of me as I was brought into my adoptive home. I always wondered what was going through my mind and I think I have an idea now. I was wondering where she was.

Living with a bully

At 3 days old I was adopted and placed with my adoptive parents. Two years prior to that they had adopted my brother who from an early age displayed many emotional and mental health problems. My parents described me as an easy baby and bragged that I was sleeping through the night at 2 weeks old...with the help of some rice cereal added to my formula. One of the first stories I remember hearing about my homecoming was the fact that when my 2 year old brother came over to meet me he took the bottle out of my mouth and hit me over the head with it. Everyone kind of laughs about it, but I remember thinking at an early age that he was crazy even back then.

All throughout my childhood my brother was a bully to me and made my life really hard and at times even physically painful. I always felt that I was his own personal punching bag and whenever he was mad or upset (usually at our parents) he would just randomly hit me when no one was looking. When I would say something to my parents about him hitting me, they would tell me to get along with him and to stop fighting. When I was 11 my parents pulled me aside and told me that when my brother starts hitting me, I need to fight him back and all I want for them to do is to say they will make him stop. A few minutes after this conversation my brother walks in the room and I punch him in the face with my right fist. Everyone was shocked and no one could believe I punched him just because he walked in the room.  I guess I missed the part where they said....the next time he tries to hit you.

At the time I punched him I was in the middle of my only real grown spurt and for a few months I was taller than him, so I think that gave me a little bit more confidence. After that he got real tall quick and it became harder and harder to avoid him.

My parents knew he had issues and I didn't learn until I was in the my late 20's but they eventually found out information about his birth mom and and there is a reason he is the way he is. As much as he has hurt me, there is a part of me that feels sorry for him because he didn't have a great beginning to his life and his struggles in life are real and partially not all his fault.

I believe in the thinking that all of our experiences throughout life make us exactly who we are at this moment and I know that all the struggles that I have had in the past have lead me exactly where I am right now. All those tears, struggles, lonely years were worth it because  on those days when I wanted to give up I hung on to the thought that one day it would be better. What I have in my life today is more beautiful than anything I could have imagined for myself. There's more love in my life than I ever thought I deserved and with the help of D I am realizing I always deserved this much love.

A sad story can turn into something so much better.  And my story keep getting better.

And now for one of the best pictures ever taken of me as a child!

What's wrong Jimmy??

Having strength

My relationship with my adoptive Dad is so weird right now. My Dad was studying to become a Jehovah's Witness when I was young and I only have one memory of my Dad at Kingdom Hall when I was around 3-4. He decided in the late 70s that he did not agree with the teachings of the church so he stopped attending any meetings (that's what church services are called) and my Mom was in charge of our spiritual upbringing.

When I left the church and was disfellowshipped it suddenly put my Dad in a really bad place. He had to chose between peace between his wife and himself and his daughter. At it seems to be in my life, he did not chose me and  has stood by my Mom since the day I was disfellowshipped. When I was living in KC I would go years between seeing him or sometimes even talking to him. I remember being at work one day when I was still in KC and seeing him drive past and hating that seeing him didn't even matter. The bottom line is, I didn't matter to them anymore. No one in my family has tried to contact me since I left in 2004 and it's been me always trying to make contact, most of the time to no avail.

If I didn't call my Dad I would probably never hear from him. About every couple of months I will get a text message from him telling me about a program on tv, but he never asks how I am doing. When we do talk on the phone he does all the talking and I just listen to the hell that he is currently living in. I still don't matter to him and no mater how hard I try, realizing this breaks my heart every time.

I called my Dad last night and he immediately acted like he couldn't talk and I asked him if this was a good time to talk and he said....it never is. We talked for about 20 seconds and he said that he might have time to talk tomorrow. Naturally, I did not hear from him today and I probably won't until I try to make contact again.

I have such a fear of rejection and I know that it all started with being adopted. I remember being 8-9 and knowing I was adopted and I wondered why my birth mom didn't want me. Those feelings are hard to face when you are such a small kid and no one to really talk about these feeling I was having.

Coming out as gay was a huge amount of rejection for me. Literally every single person that was a part of my life suddenly was not there and in fact were being told from the church that I was an evil person and to avoid me at all costs and if they did talk to me they would be in trouble.

With bad there is also so much good that has been in my life. I have also learned how resilient I have been through everything. 2007 was a year of so much change. My relationship of 3 years had ended and for the first time in my life I really didn't have anyone in my life. At the time of the break up I was not working, so I couldn't even depend upon co-workers for support. The family I had for the past 3 years was lost in the break-up and it was a rough few weeks after the break up. A few months after the break up I got a tattoo of a dragonfly with the number 7 in the design. The dragonfly was because well, I love dragonflies and it was a symbol of strength for me. I knew 2007 was going to be a tough year and I knew I was in the unique place of completely starting over and doing what I wanted for the first time in my life.

Since 2007 I have made some big mistakes, cried many tears and loved more then I was loved, but I survived and transformed into the person I see in the mirror today.

Taking Flight

I don't know why, but I am afraid to blog. I have been thinking about it a lot lately (blogging) and I realized that I am fearful of sharing too much. My blog has always been a place for me to write and share some of the things I have struggled with in the past (and some current) and I guess I just don't know how much is "sharing too much". I think I have a pretty incredible story and I know there were many people that loved reading what I wrote. The internet is a big and scary place and even though I am not ashamed of my past or what I have gone through, sometimes I just don't know.

 I have been reading lately and I feel like I had somehow gotten into the lazy brain mode. I wasn't writing and I wasn't reading for fun. I have always blamed going to graduate school for the reason I stopped reading for pleasure but it's been 12 years since I got my masters (wow!) and I need to retrain my brain to read when I am bored instead of picking up my computer or phone or watching tv. All of the reading I have been doing lately have really motivated me to want to start writing again.

 Right about now is when my fear of sharing this blog with everyone starts, but tonight I am going to be brave and just hit publish!

See you soon.