Dear Julia,
I guess the place to start with telling you my story is with my childhood. Specifically, my parents and how they raised me.
My mom and dad had me when they were 14 and 17 years old. Their parents didn’t approve, obviously, and there was talk of adoption. They left their dysfunctional homes and childhoods behind to raise me.
My mom became a waitress and my dad worked on cars in our backyard. Life was a constant struggle for us. We were poor. We went without sometimes, but always managed to make ends meet. I often felt inadequate compared to kids my age. I didn’t have nice clothes or lots of toys. When I asked my father about it, he dismissed it as unimportant. He told me what mattered was what I had inside.
I had to go without a lot of my father’s time and attention. He was emotionally unavailable. I think my father was dealing with a lot of his own issues of feeling inadequate and having low self-worth. I always sensed he had a lot of pain buried deep within him.
It was also clear to me at an early age that my dad had a serious problem. He would go out most afternoons and stay out all night. Sometimes he would come home, throwing things and acting violently. I don’t remember him drinking much in front of me, but he was an alcoholic and sometimes his moods were impossible to predict.
My mom was very loving and kind. She did her best to take care of both of us. Most of her energy was spent working, taking care of household chores, or dealing with my dad. I became very self-reliant at an early age. I often felt forgotten. My parents loved me, but they seemed to forget that I needed attention, stability, and security. We moved around a lot because of our financial instability, and there always seemed to be problems that needed attention more than me. I could tell my parents had problems I couldn’t really understand. They tried to shield me, but that doesn’t work. Children see everything.
As my father’s alcoholism grew worse, I strived to be a “good girl” and tried to make sure I never made mistakes. I got good grades and hardly ever got in trouble. I became a people-pleaser and would do my best to make my dad happy. But the results were fleeting. I would get my father’s attention and acceptance for a short time but then he would go out, get drunk, and return home angry or sad.
When I became a teenager, I stopped trying to please him, and started getting angry at him, especially when he started hitting my mom. I started smoking, drinking, and hanging out with older boys. I got really good at hiding my rebellious behavior because when I did get caught, I got punished, and sometimes hit as well.
As you can imagine, this couldn’t go on. Something had to change. Next time I write, I’ll tell you about how I left home at 16.
Sincerely,
Crystal
Crystal A. is currently incarcerated at Oregon’s women’s prison, Coffee Creek Correctional Facility.