Who my father really is

This morning my father popped into my head. I had recently watched a cop drama on tv which spoke about how sometimes you may not realize how evil a person is until you actually live with them. My father was one of those men.

My father Colin Wayne G appeared to be everyone’s best friends but the minute he was alone with his own family, he changed into a monster which no one believed existed. He ha a certain look in his eyes or rather a vacant look in his eyes when he was about to go off on his family. I think my mother knew this too but none of us could run away fast enough to avoid what was coming.

My father had met my mom when she was just 16 years old in a little town called St. Laurent in Manitoba Canada. Mom was introduced to him from her older brothers who were friends of his. Wayne, as he liked to be called, was a little older than my mom and was much more experienced. He told my mom everything an abused girl wants to hear and then some. He was slick and the words just slid off of his tongue.

Mom fell for what he said because she also came from a dysfunctional family where abuse ran rampant. Even her own mother had been married young to a man who was more than three times her age. I do not believe mom had a chance at a normal life. She soon gave the ultimate gift a woman can give and that is herself in a sexual way. Coming from a strict Catholic family and being raised for the most part in residential schools, there was no such thing as birth control and suddenly she was pregnant with her first child….me.

Life was hell from the moment after she gave herself to him until the day she managed to escape him with her own life and ours. Words of love quickly turned to words of poison filled hate. They say words cut worse than blows but the blows she took day after day were nothing compared than words which could be said and forgotten. It was the 1960’s and no one spoke about abuse or left an abusive relationship. If you were being abused in a relationship it was your fault and a secret which no one could know although the bruises were worn like a badge which no one acknowledged.

For many years I found myself wondering why my mother stayed with Wayne but then if you knew her own family that would not have been hard to understand. There was no support from any family member because most were also in the same situation. The boys beat their girl friends, wives and kids and the girls took the beatings of their husbands and stood by watching their own kids become a victim of abuse too. The one thing the girls said and still do at times, is they had to stay for the kids. It was in the best interest of the kids. No it was not.

What would have been in the best interest of ALL the kids would have been for their mothers to leave the abusive relationships and give their own children an opportunity to be raised in a healthy, love filled environment rather than one filled with terror and blows coming from all directions. So many secrets kept by my own cousins about their witnessed abuse and still no one will talk about what happened. It is not a secret to be kept.

The way to start healing is to talk about what happened like I did. No I am not the most popular out of my family members but I stand up for what I believe is wrong and will always fight for those who cannot fight for themselves…our children. I am not a perfect person, wife or mother for that matter but I have been fortunate to be with a man who loves me for me and loves his children in a healthy way. I was told by counselors for many years that this would not be possible after the abuse I suffered.

Today I can forgive my mom for staying for all those years and for later going on to a new abuser, Gordon B, who carried on from Wayne until I was 18 but we will never have a healthy trusting relationship. I can accept that. I accept her for her and that is all I can do. After all it was not her who caused fear and pain in our life but the man who was a family friend and supported by the same family even when my mom was a bloodied mess in a mud puddle while they stood and laughed.

Colin Wayne Giles is a serial pedophile and has children solely to rape them no matter what the age or sex of the child. He has done the same to other family members and yet is still revered by the family of unhealthy people who should stand beside their blood but who never did. For me those aunts and uncles are unhealthy and that is a choice they made. To this day the amount of drama from that generation, to their own children and now grandchildren, is amazing to me. Aunts and uncles who beat up their own family. Nothing changed. Let’s hope this generation does not make the same mistakes but then again from what I hear, things haven’t.

One thing I have learned is that behind a smile can be coldness which no one else can see until it is too late. If you see that, it is time to leave. If you are scared and need help, contact me. I will help. I will never turn my head and pretend not to hear the screams. I survived and so can you.

2 comments on “Who my father really is”

  1. Joy Daniels Reply

    I am so sorry that you had to go through that but here you are. Thank you for your help. Your blogs gave me the courage to talk about my own abuse. My husband never knew until recently. I don’t know why he stayed so long. lol I am afraid to have kids so we don’t have any but we do have a couple of lovely dogs whom we love just like they were our own children. Keep writing and I will keep reading.

    • BeWytched Reply

      Hi Joy. Talking about own abuse is going to make you feel great. At first it’s hard to do but by talking, you can begin healing. We are fortunate to have such great men in our lives. Statistics show that most victims grow up to remain victims but then there are people like you and I who fight for ourselves because we realize we are much more than the abuse we suffered. We are survivors. I wish you the very best on your journey to healing. I love your name btw. xxx Thank you for commenting. Please keep in touch and let me know how you are doing. x

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