In The Beginning

I was raised in a "monogamous" family. We were supposedly Christians, belonging to a common Christian religion that had never espoused polygamy. Although, the only time we went to church was when there was a wedding or a funeral, and sometimes at a baptism or christening. We did not even go at Christmas or Easter, as far as I can remember.

Anyway, as far as I knew, we were just an ordinary family. My dad was full of cruelty, hatred, and even a little violent at times. I was in my late teens before the last of my scars (from cigarette burns) healed. My mother spent most of her time off in her own little world, but was still outgoing in a manipulative way (and very good at it), with a bit of a bully streak mixed in.

I spent most of my childhood trying to escape my childhood. I really did not know any different though, most of my relatives and other children my age were in the same situation that I was in. I did attend school, but did not get good grades. I was like a hand-shy dog, that was afraid of it's own shadow, from being beat too much, which expressed itself in every aspect of my life, especially the social aspect.

I was dutifully taught all sorts of prejudices against all sorts of people, races, and religions. One of the prejudices that my dad held was against any type of Mormon religion. It was during my teenage years when I found out that my mother was a Mormon before marrying my dad. That certainly helped to explain some of the prejudices, but not all.

For being so prejudice against all others, and pointing out all their shortcomings, rational thought would suggest that our family/religion would be of the highest morals. This was my way of thinking anyway. I knew my family was terrible, but I was terrified that my dad would follow up on the threat of sending me out to live in a foster home or group home run by those people, who I had been taught were so bad. I was terrified of being kicked out of the family. Ironically, I was disowned at 16. My dad did not enjoy my company. He was always angry at me for not stealing, lying, fornicating, and fighting, and he expressed himself often on those points. At one point, I was so upset for not having his love, that I actually tried to steal and lie, but failed miserably, which did not impress him. He did not even offer me a hint of hope that some day in the future, if I tried really hard and became good at those things, that he would accept me.

I do realize that there are many, many people who have lived through far worse things than I ever had to, and I will not make light of their suffering. My intent is not to belittle the suffering of others, but only to show that I had some difficulty and challenges that I had to work through. The main one being, how was I going to deal with life outside of the family? I would not be able to live with those people (as I was taught) who were so much more nasty than the family that I was raised in. Especially those of other religions. I could not imagine living among other religions, especially polygamist religions who, as I was taught, were liars, thieves, adulterers, and murderers. Oh, and don't forget child molesters.

All forms of child abuse were rampant when I was growing up. It was terrifying! My dad was quite keen on kissing at least one of his sons, but not on the cheek or forehead, but on the lips and often after the french manner. Of course some of my relatives were having worse things happen to them and I kept my mouth shut for fear that those things were going to happen to me too.