The Making of Me
I left my home country in 1996, before emails and at the beginning of cell phones. I was 23 years old. With my savings around my waist, a suitcase full, I was ready to start my search for answers and willing to save the world.
I have no memories before the age of 9 when my parents got divorced. After that, I remember that I was free to do whatever I wanted out of school hours. I would roam the neighborhood on my bicycle, spent a lot of time at the library and collect injured animals. I used the space in our yard previously occupied by our chickens and would look after the animals until they were healed before releasing them where I had found them.
I remember my brother nagging me and hitting me. I remember my mother separating us and slapping me or hitting me with leather straps. I remember that, one day I snapped at my mother as she slapped me one time too many. I slapped her back and threw at her all the insults I knew and threatened to mess her up badly if she ever hit me again. I was just about 10 years old but had enough of the slapping. Obviously, I would only come home to eat and sleep while the rest of the time I would go on adventures on my bicycle.
I was a wild and free spirited child until my mother brought a man into our house. Then, everything changed. My older sister (18) and my older brother (14) disappeared shortly after. The rest of us would be dragged to move into this man’s house. Leaving our huge house in an open green neighborhood to a small house compacted into a street with not a single tree in view.
My other sister moved out not long after the move and this new man started visiting my room at night under the pretense to wish me good night. He would never forget to slide his fingers under my panties saying things such as < Who’s is this ?> while I would try to wiggle my way out physically and verbally trying to avoid confrontation and more dramas.
I hated him touching me and started to despise him for being this kind of person. I went and read many autobiographies of girls who had suffered from sexual molestation and it helped me to know that I was right and found inspiration and hope to regain control of my life one day. I was not allowed to go outside after school and read a lot to escape reality. I started to make a mental list of all the things I would do if I were free.
We had a dog when we moved house and this man started hitting the dog when it barked. This house only had a tiny yard sealed by 4 walls and the dog was now tied up at all time, left alone to poop right where she was. I made it my duty to protect her and was the only one taking her out everyday and would stay with her as long as possible. When the man or my brother would go to hit her I would follow and scream at them and put myself in front of the dog. I would cover her with my body to protect her from the baton and take the hits myself. I would fight back. Eventually they would direct their rage at me for daring to confront them. I couldn’t understand the cruelty and the stupidity. One day, I came home to see the dog had vanished and was given so many different explanations that I decided to be done with these people. I ran away and slept on the streets a few times when I was 12 and 13. I always went back home because I wanted to go to school and my books were in the house.
At the age of 13, I told my father about the touching and we ended up sitting in front of the judge. I was told that my step father would go to jail, that my mother would lose her job and be left with nothing and that my brother and I would be sent to Houses for Troubled Juvenile where we would be target of violence and maybe get worse than what I had experienced so far. I was pushed so hard and asked to repeat the details so many times that my shame amplified and it was easier to say that I had lied. I was sent back to the house in the most awkward atmosphere. The touching was replaced by rage and more control. I decided to patiently wait for the day when I would be 18 years old and legally free to leave. I learned to avoid conflicts and do damage control.
My dream life was my motivation.
Eventually I left at 18, managed to make the government provide for me during my last school year by going to the social worker that had been in charge of my case when I was 13 and telling her how they had forced me back into the house of a controlling pedophile.
At 19, I got a job at a Mac Donald’s where I happily worked for the next four years. From the owner to the team, everyone was great. I was being paid to have fun. My work place became my world and I meet my boyfriend. I had it all, Love, a job I enjoyed, money, an apartment, a cat and my boyfriend’s family became my people. I worked long hours by choice and was making more than I needed. I paid everything cash up front and had no credit cards nor debts, we lived actively and well and I still had enough money to save.
The day arrived when my options were to get married, have children and continue this easy life or to go on and do all the things I had dreamt of.
I opted for the unknown. I decided to leave it all and to follow what I believed to be the path of my true destiny. I knew that I would never be complete until I had done all the things that helped me cope as an adolescent. I felt I owed it to my Life to make all the Dreams a Reality. I would never feel complete until I was in MY LIFE.
And so, the decision was made and I quit everything : Boyfriend, job, cat, apartment.
I had no idea how I was going to make it happen but decided to not worry about this detail.
In France we use this motto a lot :< Quand on veut, on peut> ( When you want, you can) and to this day, this is how I think and act regardless of my own limitations.
We are taught that building a stable consistent life is the only way to be happy, implementing the idea of safety and the fear of changes.
I was familiar with not being safe and being FREE seemed a lot more important to me.
I wanted to be Me, I wanted to feel, I wanted to Do.
I wanted to be FREE to decide what happened to me and was determined to do all I could to not be a part of the system. No bank account, no governmental help etc…
I knew I was going to do it all. I didn’t know how but I was determined to live the Life of my Dreams and it was all I wanted to do. No compromise. I had compromised my adolescence and will not compromise another precious hour of my time on Earth.
I would be my own master. The own maker of my joy, the own maker of my troubles.
I decided to take notes about my journey. I wanted to have an answer to all the fears stopping people to get out of a life that is making them miserable. How do you leave everything, how do you start all over again, how do you go there, how do you make money, where do you sleep, is it easy, what do you do when you are in trouble ?
I am now sharing my original notes as they were written.
My way of thinking took me on a roller coaster of adventures and you know what ?
I was right.
When you want, you can.
No one knows about tomorrow but we all know how we feel today and everyday we make the decision to either stay on the path we are on or to take chances and head for a different one to get closer to who we are.
NOTE : I am aware that I was fortunate to be born in a developed country which made it easier for me to start my journey. It is really hard to chase dreams coming from a country with restricted infrastructure as I later experienced. I, sadly, had to accept that money does rule our world.
Sylvia B Hennebo