Before I sought a protective order to keep my niece safe from drugs and abuse, my little sister had gone to the same county courthouse for her own protective order. As I mentioned earlier, her middle son had come to live with me. She had lost custody of all three of her sons to our mother in 2012 due to her drug abuse. Her son had disclosed to her the sexual and mental abuse occurring in our mother’s home.
She filed for the order to prevent our mother from driving to Missouri to take him back. After she left her daughter with me and traveled to Tennessee, I obtained my own protective order.
What would you have done if your sister tried to move her young daughter into a home where sexual abuse was reportedly taking place? At the time, I was not yet aware of the allegations that my sister’s middle son had raped a six-year-old girl. How could I possibly rationalize allowing a two-year-old into such an environment?
I knew I had to protect her. I possess dozens of text messages from my sister detailing drug use and abuse. The photo above is a copy from the Division of Family Services, documenting her filing against our mother.
After I obtained the protective order, my sister sent child protective services to my home, falsely alleging that my own daughter was being abused. This was the same sister who had sought protection from our mother—yet she now lives in that very home with our mother, along with my niece and her three sons.
It is deeply painful to imagine. How do people get away with such atrocities? How many children continue to suffer because of adult denial and inaction? It is incomprehensible that our society—and specifically our county—would return a defenseless toddler to a home where the mother herself has acknowledged sexual abuse is occurring.
What happens to a little girl living in a home where boys are sexually abusing one another? What happens to a little girl whose brother has assaulted a six-year-old? What happens to a little girl whose other brother has assaulted a family member with special needs? What happens to a little girl whose mother battles severe addiction? What happens to a little girl trapped in a family that covers up child abuse?
These questions haunt me at night. They are devastatingly horrifying.
I have recorded phone calls in which my sister tells me she cannot allow her daughter to be around her sons. She thanks me for keeping her daughter safe. She says she took her son and left the state to prevent him from harming my daughter or hers. She states she will take him to the police and ensure he gets help. Yet shortly afterward, she accuses my husband of abusing our daughter—claiming she witnessed it—while leaving her own child in our home and fleeing to another state.
Dealing with addiction is incredibly difficult. I once heard it said that an alcoholic will steal your wallet, but a drug addict will steal your wallet and then help you look for it. My daughter will never forget being pulled aside and asked if her father touches her inappropriately.
My children were already aware of what happened to me and their Aunt Amy in our childhood. They understood the meaning of sexual abuse and handled the entire situation with remarkable maturity. I, however, struggled. I wanted to crawl into a hole and cry. I never wanted my children to suffer because I was trying to save my niece.
That was exactly what my sister had intended—to hurt me, to flood me with the pain of my own childhood. It is because of her cruelty and being forced to confront my abuser again that I found the courage to write this blog. The only ones who benefit from silence are the abusers.
Someone recently told me that a hateful comment online wished I would “get in my closet and stay there.” That will never happen. I know the truth, and I have ample evidence to support it. The real question is: Does anyone care enough to listen?