When you are raised a "Good Girl" Part 3B: This might trigger some:

 

I'm not writing this for pity I'm writing this because I need to finally acknowledge my past and what it is that made me who I am now. I'm okay with all of this and with what is to come. But If I can help others deal with their past trauma then that is a bonus. I feel that things like this should be talked about and brought out in the open more. I'm not naming anyone because some are still alive and I'm not going to do that, it's not written to blame or hurt anyone else. life has dealt with most of them better than I ever could have.

Anyway. I will be continuing this. Huggs your loved ones.

Huggs,

Cleary (Cie) 

When you are raised a "Good Girl" Part 3: This might trigger some:

 

Part 3 May 30, 2025

As I said, I was busy with school, swimming, and being a kid. But in my 8^th year things started to change and go wrong, and I wasn’t sure how to fix it.  I went out for cheerleading in 8^th grade, and I had a good time with that until I started hanging out with one person who I’m not going to name. We started doing everything together, going out for track, hanging out outside of school. But I was slowing figuring out that my other friends didn’t like her at all. They were making me make a choice between them and her. I choose her, maybe in hindsight I shouldn’t have. There was a bunch of stuff she was doing with boys that I didn’t know about at first. I didn’t believe the rumors were true about her. When I realized it at the end of the year. I confronted her and broke off our friendship because I didn’t want to get labeled the same way.

But I found out in 9^th grade it was too late everyone thought I was like her. I used to find nasty letters calling me names in my locker.  I used to work out a lot to stay fit for swimming and even though I could out bench most of the boys in my class, who were only friends at first. Everyone called me a whore because I hung out with guys all the time. But I didn’t want to hang out with people (girls) who were calling me names. I ended up hanging out with the wrong crowd, yes, they have that crowd in private school. I ended up going to a sleep over that was more than a sleep over, even though I didn’t do anything I was accused of it and the rumors were all over school. I ended up failing classes because I didn’t want to be there and asked my parents to put me in public school so I could be on the swimming team the next year.  And my parents agreed if I brought up my grades.

So, in 10^th grade I was in a new school where no one knew me but a couple of people. I was on the team with who were my friends. Everything was going well. I was a bit overwhelmed because it was a big difference with everything.  I met a boy in one of my classes that was very persistent about being my boyfriend, so I agree, as I thought he was cute. We used to go out to the parking lot everyday for lunch for a couple of months. I was very happy with school; my friends and swimming team practice every day. I thought that I was passed everything from before and was looking forward to the rest of the year. 

Then one day we were out at his older brother’s van for lunch and everyone left early. We were talking and he started kissing me, but it was more insistent than ever before, being from catholic school I was a bit stupid about some things even though you know the basic ideas of sex. Mostly the bases 1 through 3, and no one ever went all the way. But that day he wouldn’t stop, and I was raped. Then he told me I couldn’t tell anyone because they wouldn’t believe it since we had been going out for so long. And if I did tell he would kill me. I was physically hurt, not just mentally. I was in so much pain and bleeding so heavily that I had to tell my swim coach I was on my period so I could go home. I didn’t tell anyone and tried to deal with it, but I didn’t want to go back to school. So, I started failing my classes and skipping school. I even ran away just to get attention because I couldn’t say what was really bothering me. I wanted to die.  I started acting out and yelling at my Mom.  It was a very hard time for both of us and the rest of my family.

Okay I need a break, I will write more later

Remember to hugg your family and tell them you love them.

Huggs,

Cleary (Cie)

When you are raised a "Good Girl" Part 2: This might trigger some:

 

I don’t want you to think that I didn’t love my mother, I did and always will.

Without her I wouldn’t be who I am today. She was a very creative person. She could walk into a fancy store make a sketch of a dress, blouse or pants then come home and make it better. She took all my dolls one year and made them new dresses for Christmas. I thought I had all new dolls lol. One of my earliest memories is sitting under her sewing machine playing with my dolls and her fabric and feeling so safe. She made sure no matter what happened between her and my father that my brother and I had what we needed to thrive, not just survive.

 I have so many happy memories of my childhood and being with her and my family. But there was a generation gape between us that made my teen years hard for both of us. I wasn’t an easy child to deal with either. I have always known I was adopted, and I used it as a weapon when my Mom hurt me.  Which I knew hurt her also. I was a very busy little girl growing up. From age 5 I was swimming in competition, being on teams and practicing every day after school. I was also in brownies and girl scouts. I took ballet in the winter when we didn’t swim. I loved to dance and wanted to be a ballerina when I grew up for a while.

My Mom made this dress and a lot of my clothes growing up. When I wasn’t wearing my school uniform.  It became part of the problem when I got older. But that’s for another day. I loved my school, my friends and swimming every day. I wasn’t the best student, especially in writing and math. I broke my right elbow when I was in first grade and was learning to write so they taught me left-handed while the cast was on for months. I almost had to have surgery to fix it. But the nuns decided that once the cast came off, I had to learn to write all over again right-handed. So, I was way behind everyone else. But by 5^th grade I could write okay, but I sucked in math. But grades didn’t really matter for me as I was learning to run a household at home and cook, etc. Also, I could swim very well so I was busy with that. So with all that I was a happy child until 8^th grade.

Enough for now, I need to think about how to write about my 8th grade year.

Tell your family you love them daily.

 Huggs,

Cleary (CieAngel)