Nadine looks away, hands fidgeting in her lap. She thinks of her childhood. Her first family, or at least the first she'd ever known. How even as a small child she'd understood that these people didn't love her. To this day she wonders why they'd even adopted her, if all they really cared about was their biological son.
Christian duty, most likely. Suffer the children to come unto me and all that.
"I used to believe that, when I was really little. But then none of the people who were supposed to keep me safe did. I don't really know where I come from, I don't know if...if my birth parents gave me up or died or who they even were. But the first family that adopted me...they weren't terrible, but it was like they didn't even want me. They died when I was...five, maybe? Maybe younger, I don't know, I was little enough that I don't even remember my brother's name anymore. And the relative I went to then...she really didn't want me, and she didn't...it wasn't good. She kept me scared, all the time."
Scared of God, scared of her, scared of herself or ever stepping out of line....
"And then she died and I went to the children's home and was in foster care and I was taken by family after family...and I was valuable to them, because I was free labor and they got money from the government for taking me in. But not valuable enough. And none of them were good to me. So it's a little hard for me to take that to heart."
She wants to believe it's different now. And part of her does, but there's too much of her that's been badly used and discarded, too many formative years being given away and neglected by people who were supposed to take care of her and protect her.
no subject
Nadine looks away, hands fidgeting in her lap. She thinks of her childhood. Her first family, or at least the first she'd ever known. How even as a small child she'd understood that these people didn't love her. To this day she wonders why they'd even adopted her, if all they really cared about was their biological son.
Christian duty, most likely. Suffer the children to come unto me and all that.
"I used to believe that, when I was really little. But then none of the people who were supposed to keep me safe did. I don't really know where I come from, I don't know if...if my birth parents gave me up or died or who they even were. But the first family that adopted me...they weren't terrible, but it was like they didn't even want me. They died when I was...five, maybe? Maybe younger, I don't know, I was little enough that I don't even remember my brother's name anymore. And the relative I went to then...she really didn't want me, and she didn't...it wasn't good. She kept me scared, all the time."
Scared of God, scared of her, scared of herself or ever stepping out of line....
"And then she died and I went to the children's home and was in foster care and I was taken by family after family...and I was valuable to them, because I was free labor and they got money from the government for taking me in. But not valuable enough. And none of them were good to me. So it's a little hard for me to take that to heart."
She wants to believe it's different now. And part of her does, but there's too much of her that's been badly used and discarded, too many formative years being given away and neglected by people who were supposed to take care of her and protect her.
Lifelong habits are hard to unlearn.