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In Reply to: Opinions posted by Jules on February 06, 2004 at 20:29:54:
Well Jules, if it weren't for you and the folks at Movingon.org, and the positions you have taken on victim advocacy and the Rights of Children, I probably wouldn't be over here frying bacon in the FG exer kitchen.
Instead, I'd be doing online advocacy at Moveon.org, which is where I was headed that fateful day I came across the children of my youth.
I was remembering earlier today my experiences as a "handmaid of the Lord" in TF and wondering if it would be a good idea to share this story with the folks at Movingon.
Being a nanny wasn't a job I asked for. I was TOLD to sleep in the nursery and take care of the babies. I lost a lot of sleep, and let me tell you, it's hard enough not to resent your own flesh-and-blood kids and go psycho when you're sleep deprived. At least with your own babies, there's a chemical called oxytocin that kicks in during birthing to facilitate bonding.
I also remembered all those baby diapers I was expected to wash out every day, and how I got the livin' bejezus rebuked outta me for failing to get one of those precious nappies absolutely clean before putting it in the washer. It's a real trial to stand outside in freezing weather with a hose and immerse your hands in all that cold water and urine. So I got lax with rinsing all the execrement out. I should have realized that the damn thing was going onto the baby Jesus' butt, not into the washing machine.
After I received my well-deserved blasting, I'm left feeling very resentful and violated, right? The next pious little sermon (after I finished cooking dinner and doing the dishes) was about the dangers of letting a "root of bitterness" grow in my heart before going upstairs to the nursery for the night.
So here's the basic message I heard: I'm allowed to treat you like shit; you're not allowed to feel anything about it; now go take care of my kid.
If I had put up with that reality long enough...say years and years...there's a very high probability I would have become a monster in the nursery, and later, in the victory camps.
Fortunately, for whatever reason, I chose a different path. But I can tell you in all honesty that I know what it feels like to want to beat the crap out of someone, anyone, even a small child.
And that might be a reason I'm willing to share my truth. I believe we are only as sick as the secrets we keep. Thanks for being willing to share your truth.
