I Should Have Known

  I found that I had to move in with my mom after everything transpired. I tried everything to try and keep my home, and keep some sort of normality. But I was at a loss. Looking back, I see that I really needed my mom more than anything. When I came to live with her I fully shut down. I went to work, and was completely numb. I would come home and either fall asleep on the couch, or just stare at my phone. I checked out. I do not know what went through her head at that time, I know she really kind of let me check out. I was still dealing with a lot of court dates, and Matt was still calling me while he was in Jail, and then into prison. I didn’t know how to fully cut him out. These are hard to admit, because Matt and I have not spoken for about four years now, but I’m ashamed that I still spoke to him. But when that number came across my phone, I still answered it. I still had this delusional small thought that maybe this was all a misunderstanding. But something always ALWAYS rings in my head that my mom told me. “I would rather be wrong, and have to apologize to Matt, than to be wrong, and have to apologize to Ryan.” Something I had to learn was, ladies and gentleman, when children talk about sexual abuse, especially at that young of age, they are not lying. They have nothing to gain by lying. But as this mans wife, I still wanted to believe I didn’t marry a monster. But lets be clear, I did. And I believe Ryan. I always did. I just had that delusional hope

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The calls finally stopped. And I think that is when I really started to let my heart heal. (Let me be more specific, It now had the opportunity to start that process. I am far from healed. Its still a gaping wound, and I really need to figure out how to mend it. I am really hoping, getting my story out here, and letting you all into my head, and maybe letting another grieving mother and wife read may help)

Ryan still frequently talks about what happened to him. He struggled in school with fighting, and authority figures. I was getting phone calls from the school daily, and having to go to meetings. We were going to counseling and doctors offices for ADHD, and PTSD. But through it all that little boy has never lost that sparkle in his eye or that giant grin. He knows, and I remind him that he saved is sister from potential abuse, and that he saved himself. 

Lilly is starting to ask me questions about her dad. Like his name, and if she met him. She knows that he is a bad man and that he is in jail. At six, I’m sure its so hard to comprehend that. I don’t know how to make her KNOW that even though that is her dad, that it doesn’t reflect on her.

My mom and I comment frequently how interesting it is to look at Lilly. The majority of her life she has lived here with me and my mom. So basically she has had two moms, and a brother. Little to no fighting, no stress, friends and school. She is the epitome of what happy care free child is. I can see how light hearted and stress free she is. And then I can see the weight of the world on Ryans shoulders. He worries all the time. About everything. Now is that because of the abuse? I don’t know. Because I worry and worried about everything when I was little also. Maybe he just got that trait from me. But I find myself always asking that about Ryan. “Is he acting this way because of the abuse?”

“What could I have done to prevent this?”

“I should have known”

For the people in the back, “I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN”

Do you have any idea how incredibly hard it is to wrap your mind around this? That this abuse to your child was happening under your very nose? That you are sure that everyone around you is judging you. Saying in whispers “I just cant believe that she didn’t know. I would have.” Can you believe, that some people have actually said that to me? You can imagine how that has made me feel. And that I should not have listened. But I did. I feel that. Right in my heart. I internalize the fact that I should have protected my child from his monster. I should have stopped it. I deal with this level of guilt every single second I’m alive. It doesn’t matter how many people tell me I shouldn’t feel guilt. That he was a master manipulator. Yeah, I know all of that. I know that if I had seen the abuse, or known about it I would have done something. But you also have to understand that even though I can now see those little tiny red flags, In those moments, I didn’t notice them. I mean, why would that ever be in the forefront of your mind?

I have had some pretty horrible things said to me in the last five years, but more importantly the things that people have said in kindness have rung loudest of all. I learned who my true friends and family are. In this trial, I saw who loves me the most. Matts family has not reached out to me at all. Not one person has called me to see how me and the kids are doing from his side. Let me repeat this with more specifics- Matthews mother, my children’s grandma has not reached out to her grandkids at all. And she knows that Matt did this. Disgusting.

But the amount of people that rallied for me, and with me have brought me to tears. When I worked for Lowes, they organized a secret Santa for the kids that Christmas so they could have presents. My management did whatever I needed for time away for doctors appointments and court dates, counseling. I am eternally grateful for all of you that were there in my darkest hours.

I am still dealing with an astronomical amount of guilt. From the fact I should have known, to I should stop letting the kids eat Mac and cheese, and make something. I have learned that there are certain battles worth fighting. I am tired, and work 45-50 hours a week. If the kids go down with a full belly and a full heart than damnnit Brianna you were successful! Not every meal needs to have a vegetable. Not every meal needs to be from scratch. Cut yourself some slack. 

I appreciate all of you that are reading and following this. Its really hard to express all the emotions that have transpired. And are still happening today. But to know that maybe some of you will sit down with your kids today, tomorrow, or this week to talk to them about good touches, bad touches. About speaking to someone that they trust about anything happening. Letting them know that you will always believe them if they bring something like this to your attention. Its a fucking hard conversation to have, but you don’t want to sit down and ever think, “I should have known.”