I dont have any of my art work posted up, yet I should tell you of my so called familes background. I found out that I was pretty much living a lie with my mom when I was seventeen. As I rewind the years, when I was a young child, my mom and dad never had a great realtionship. Sitting down and watching the home videos my mother made were not so nice. My mother is a mexican, and the thing you have to know that a lot, and I mean
LOT of mexicans are rude people. I have no idea what my mother's life was in Mexico, but I figured all she said was lies. My father is an American, thank god, I probaly would have not made it if both of my parents were mexicans.
My mother had a favorite from her three children (seriously, what kind of mother would have a favorite?) the oldest is my brother, Paul, and my sister is the middle sibling, Vannessa. Me, well I am the youngest. my brother is thirty three, I think, and my sister, twenty eight. They also did not treat me well. My sister turned out to be the favorite. My mother was so fond of my sister, that she would forget my name and call me Vannessa all the time. As for my brother, I looked up to him, I "thought" he was the greatest person alive until last year. My father was there for me more than anyone until the divorce.
My so called mother filled my head with lies about "how awful" my father was to her and to my siblings. I should have new better than that, to believe her, but I like I had no choice. I never had close friends because my mother drove them away from me. After the divoice, I was but only in the fifth grade. My mother would make me cut my hair so short that I looked like a boy, and on top of that, I wore glasses. I went to a private school, and my life was greatly getting worse.
The girls had to wear skirts and button up blouses, while the boys had to wear button up shirts with a tie, and kaki pants. Even I, wearing a skirt, felt embarassed when a nun asked if i was "a genderd confused retard". Of corse I broke down to tears. That school was Hell, and I would never go back.
So thanks to my so called mother, I was made fun of a lot in grade school. The only thing I felt her actually "loved" me for was my abillity to play the trumpet. I'd practiced and practied, and became great, but still wasn't enough to even earn my own name.
So I became Vannessa when she moved out of the hell house (my so called home). Do this and do that, I cleaned, cook, took care of animals, and my mother would complain that she's "tired" with all the stress i put her though. I hardly even spoke, I didn't have anyone to call or turn. I would have to go to the counciler 5th-8th grade because "I didn't make friends" well. I was the oddball and the girls, which were only five of them; including me, in my class. They were so mean to me, and I get in trouble for not talking to them. Everyone at that school could not understand why such a "good" mother have a child that cannot function in socity.
Nothing was wrong with me. I just couldn't say anything. That sums up my younger years, filled with gloom and not even being able to hear or see my dad since the divorce, which was eleven years without him even contacting me. I even thought about suicide when I was nine. I had no one to turn too.
I do have a family now, but they are not biological. They love me as if I was one of their own. Ethan, my boyfriend and soon to be my fiance, has shown me that someone could love me and protect me from evil people like my mother and siblings. I love them as well and its sad to say I never knew what love was until I met Ethan and his family (which was three years ago). Imagine, you feel like years of your life go by without anyone showing any compassion and love toward you.
I am glad that God has blessed me with people that dont believe that I'm crazy and love me for who I am. But I'm not done telling my story, there is much more to be said.
