This is not something I wanted to write, but lately I’ve had a hard time just being able to function so I think this is the only way I can heal. I grew up the youngest of four; I was very much the baby. My siblings were much older than me; my sister was the closest in age and she was 6 years older, my brother Chris was 8 years older, and the oldest, Greg was 12 years older.
Greg was my best friend growing up and to this day, he’s the only family I have. When I was in kindergarden, he was a senior and we went to the same private Christian school. Rather than take the bus to school, Greg would drive me and he would often times take me to McDonalds to grab breakfast. He was my best friend; he bought me my first cassette tapes and introduced me to music that I still listen to almost 30 years later. He also frequently would take me to the movies. These are some of the best memories of my childhood.
I was a very sweet, happy, loving kid. I had a faith in God that perplexed my mom’s bible study partners. I loved to entertain the entire family too and would often times put on my own performances where I demanded the attention of the entire family. I loved to sing and I have faint memories of having my sister pick me up and put me on the piano bench so I could play the piano.
I felt very different from most kids and I had a hard time making friends. I remember being in some sort of day care while my mother attended her Bible Study Fellowship class in a room close by and I remember being alone. I didn’t play with the other kids. I played alone. As my Mom would say “Maeghan’s just a big person in a little body.”
My mom kept me very close. I remember her repeatedly telling me that I was her best friend. I might be wrong but I think I remember being told that I was kept from going to school because my Mom didn’t want to part with me.
So, I had a hard time with my peers. I wanted to make friends but I had none. Instead I was bullied, was constantly made fun of, kids even got physical with me. Teachers did nothing and in fact they turned a blind eye to the treatment I got from my peers. I would cry after having a ball thrown full force at my face and the teacher did nothing. The teacher treated me like I was the problem.
I can remember now as if it was yesterday the countless times my mom told me “Maeghan, you are too sensitive.” The bullying I was victim to was possibly a side effect of being switched from school to school; I was always the new kid. I’ll list the schools I went to in chronological order: Kindergarden – Harford Christian School 1985-1986; St. James Academy – Pre-First 1986-1987; 1st & 2nd grade – Harford Day School 1987-1989; 3rd,4th, and half of 5th grade Youth’s Benefit Elementary School (public school) 1989-1992.
If there was one pleasant memory I have from those years in my schooling it was my Music class. I loved to sing and I did the school talent show. I remember like it was yesterday; my music teacher asked me if I would like to sing in the Maryland Children’s Choir. I remember having to tell her no, because my time was taken up with the horses. When I was about to turn 7 years old I asked my Dad for pony rides; instead of pony rides he purchased 3 horses. From the ages 7 till I was about 12 I wasn’t allowed to ride much; instead I got to watch my older sister compete in show after show. So, my time was already occupied and I had to tell my teacher no, I couldn’t sing in the Maryland Children’s Choir.
By the time I was in 5th grade I practically begged my mom to homeschool me because I was bullied by the entire school. None of the kids in my grade were nice to me. I was chased on the playground and had book bags thrown at me. Starting in the Spring Semester of5th grade, I was homeschooled. I remained being homeschooled throughout the rest of my education.
Right before I started 9th grade I remember begging my parents to let me go to school. I was lonely, I had no friends and I so badly wanted friends. My father would say frequently than friends were not important, that you didn’t need friends. On the other hand, my mom would refer to me as her best friend. I was her best friend and she was my best friend.
My mom treated our friendship like I was her peer, not her child. She would unload on me all of marriage woes. Starting at the age of ten the word divorce was a common threat. My parents fought all the time. There was always a major problem in the household whether it be Greg and him being a rebellious kid or my parents religious differences. Countless times I remember being told that my Dad was going to burn in hell.
It was said that my father was a ‘walking time bomb’, you never knew when he was going to explode. Two incidents that are imprinted on my memory occurred when I was about 7. The first one was being fearful for my Greg because my Dad was chasing him around the house, beating on him, getting very physical. Holes were put in the wall that remained there for years. My sister and Iran to her bedroom and hid in a closet.
My Dad was very physical; the second incident I’ll never forget occurred around the same time. My dad one day came stomping down the stairs yelling “who clogged up the toilet?” For some reason I had this fear of ever telling lie and when he shouted out his question, I didn’t know if i clogged up the toilet. I was often times yelled at for clogging up the toilet because I used too much toilet paper. I didn’t recall clogging the toilet up that day but wasn’t sure.
I took the blame and said I did it because I didn’t want to be deceitful. The beating I received from my father caused my sister to call my mom at her work “Mom, you better get home; Dad’s beating Maeghan to death.” I was told years later that later that night, Debbie took mom into my room when I was asleep to show her the welts all over my body.
This was not the only beating that I received. I think the reason why I remember is it because what my Dad did a day or two later. He didn’t apologize or say sorry. Instead he gave me a cassette tape that I still have to this day. Jerry Lee Lewis “Great Balls of Fire.”
So, there was the physical abuse from my father, and the mental and emotional abuse from my mom. She would unload all of her problems on me concerning my father. If it wasn’t my father she was unloading on me how bad Greg was. My mom’s friendship revolved around her problems; it was always bad mouthing and putting other people down. Drama was a way of life, it was all I knew.
I tiptoed around in fear hoping not to catch the wrath of my father’s anger. I would also be hushed whenever I expressed anything. I was too sensitive. I didn’t need friends. When I reached puberty I became selfish; my Mom would constantly tell me how selfish I was. As an aside, I have to say that this is very difficult o write. I was the sweet, kind hearted kid that would take on the role of peacemaker. I just wanted everyone to get along so badly.
Money was a funny issue in the household. My father became very successful; he was a securities trader for T.Rowe Price and also a vice president. My parents would buy me nice things but always remind me of the nice things they got me. I remember always being ridden with guilt whenever I wanted something, whenever I asked for something. When I was about 14 years old I remember wanting a pair of Timberland shoes, the same shoes my older sister had. I remember asking my Dad for them while we went shopping in Myrtle Beach, SC. I remember being harshly reprimanded out in public to the point that I was in tears in the mall at the age of 14.
Money was another common theme of my mom’s ‘unloading sessions’ with me. I got to constantly hear about how my oldest brother Greg was greedy and that he just constantly wanted money from my parents. It later became a joke that my parents were spending his inheritance money on the lavish horses.
The horse business was a nightmare in itself. Arabians were a very prestigious horse to own, celebrities like Patrick Swayze and Wayne Newton would be seen performing at the shows.The final horse show I competed in was the 1997 U.S. Arabian and Half Arabian National Youth Championship. I went to nationals after winning the Arabian English Pleasure JOTR Championship unanimously; there were 3 judges who would judge separately.
Days before we had to leave for Oklahoma city, which is where the national horse show took place, a tragic accident occurred in the backyard of our home. My sister and I were in the backyard and our ALex started growling at something underneath the deck. She was being protective because underneath the deck was a rabid raccoon. Alex was her name and she was the best dog ever; sadly the raccoon attacked her and latched onto her back. The 3 day trip to Oklahoma was a sad and painful one. Both my parents, my sister and I had to stop off at hospitals along the way and get the rabies shots. The county also demanded that we put our dog to sleep.
The pain didn’t end there though; when we arrived at the horse show my Dad taunted me. We would go and watch all the other competitors practice riding their horses. He would point out to me “See that horse there, it was last’s year’s Open National Champion and he’s gonna be in your class.” Needless to say, I went home empty handed; I got the gate while other riders that I previously beat at Regionals won the high title of Top Ten.
So, I was lonely. I had no friends. I started going to a youth gathering called Young Life. It was difficult for me to make friends though because I was looked at as a stranger. Shortly after I started going my brother Chris caught word about it and he quickly became a leader. Then my sister joined in. I watched as my brother Chris and sister Debbie became popular leaders and became friends with the ‘popular kids’. Meanwhile, I was the loner outsider.
If it wasn’t for the music I probably wouldn’t be here. I went to bed countless nights with the pillow over top of my head in an attempt to suffocate myself. But I knew better; I also had this fear engrained in me that if I killed myself I would burn in hell for eternity.
I looked up to my sister. I admired her, she was on one of the cool kids. She had a nick name for me, it was fatty. See, she was athletic and competed in sports her entire life. I had no interest in sports. When I was a senior in high school she and I were driving to a Young Life event and she told me “Maeghan, you and I, we will never be one of the beautiful people.”
I drowned myself in music, I latched onto the music of the smashing pumpkins and nine inch nails when I was 14 but stuck to just listening to the smashing pumpkins because if I got caught listening to NIN, I would pay for it. I lived in constant fear of my dad’s wrath. I remember him hitting me with a 2 by 4 because I went out into a field while he was on the tractor. My dad claimed he could have ran me over so he punished me with hitting me with a two by four.
There’s a lot more that happened during my youth and adolescent years, but I just blanked it out. The next chapter of my story begins 1999. I was attending Towson University as a journalism major. I should add that I really wanted to pursue music but my parents didn’t support my desires. Since I commuted to college I had a hard time making friends. So, I started hanging out at Starbucks.
It was at starbucks that I made a friend. Times were really rough for me, the bubble that my parents brought me up in burst. They decided to get a divorce in the summer of 1999. In the fall my mom decided to move me to an basement apartment of a lady from her church.
I was 19, my parents were getting a divorce. I was quickly realizing that life was not what i was raised to believe. I was attending my classes and getting good grades. I had a job at a bike shop that I enjoyed and did well at. I was finding happiness for the first time in my life and started to shed the ‘baby weight’.
Then one day my parents told me to meet them at the house at a specific time. So I went. What followed was my demise. My parents claimed that I was ruining my life and that my friends were bad for me. I was told that they would be moving me back home. I was taken to my apartment and watched my brother Chris and my Dad tear my posters off the wall; posters I had collected for years.
Then later at home my Dad told me to take my tongue ring out. I told him no because I felt that it was my body, I had paid for it and it was not his right to tell me what I could and could not do to my body. It wasn’t even a visible piercing. So my father reacted by getting physical. He literally kicked me out of the house and then rushed at me and shoved me up against the RV while screaming at me.
After that he went upstairs into my bedroom and took all my clothes I had recently purchased from Express and put them in a trash bag. He then got in his car with my cloth and left the house.
Later on, I called the cops. My father had a laid a hand on me and he took my belongings. The deputy sheriff that arrived at the house wanted to arrest my father. She noticed the mark on my face. My mother came to me and took me aside and pleaded with me “Maeghan, please don’t press charges, please don’t have him arrested. If you have him arrested he will make me pay and the divorce is going to be finalized soon.”
So, I didn’t press charges. Even though it was in the final divorce settlement that the car that I drove was for me, he took it. This all happened in the middle of November of 1999; I had maintained good grades but weeks before finals I dropped out of school because I had no car to commute with. I wasn’t about to burden my mother with driving me back and forth to classes and I don’t even remember her offering.
After that I gave up on school and decided to just work. I maintained a job working at Denny’s for the graveyard shift as a waitress. My mom had purchased me an 1990 Oldsmobile. I had a job, was living with my mom, and m parents decided to cosign for me so I could get myself a reliable car. The Oldsmobile was in bad shape.
There was still constant drama going on in the family, constant family fights, I had a hard time dealing with it. One day in particular during a huge family ordeal I told my mom that I couldn’t deal with the drama. It tore me up inside, and I was already in a tremendous amount of pain from a lifetime of abuse. I blatantly told my mom that I was going to the barn to smoke a bowl, a bowl of weed. It helped chill me out. Because of my honesty, she kicked me out. This took place in the summer of 2000.
Fast forward about two years. I had been living on my own and I wanted to move back home and go back to school. I wanted to heal, I wanted to forgive my parents, and I wanted to make something of myself. It was summer of 2002.
My parents decided it would be best to have me move in with my sister. I started seeing a therapist and I was diagnosed with a severe case of ADHD. I had enrolled in school and was going to start in the Fall pursuing music studies. After living with my sister for about two months, I woke up one day to a rude awakening. Every morning I would wake up and go outside for a morning smoke; one morning I did so and when I went to go back inside the house the house, the house was locked.
My sister gave me no warning at all. She certainly hadn’t expressed to me that she was upset with me. So, I was locked out of the house and she wouldn’t let me in. My cats were inside. She got rid of my cats; these were my kittens that I raised for two years. she later told me that she opened up the door and just let them run out.
What kind of person does this to someone else? What kind of sister does this to her younger sister?
It was an opportune time for her to do this because my dad was in south carolina, which was is main residence, and my mom was in texas caring for her parents. I didn’t know what to do. I dropped out of school so that I could use the money to partly live off of. Things just continued to go downhill for me.
Weeks later after my Mom returned home, I moved in with my mom. So round two. I got a job at the local Starbucks and enrolled in school for the spring semester.
Then one morning my mom came into my room and was ‘kind’ and told me that she was going to go to church and that she would see me later. Twenty minutes later she storms back in the house and her mood had made a 180; at least her attitude towards me. She was on the phone but was being very private. SHe didn’t want me to hear the conversation she was having, so she went to the garage and sat in her car to talk.
I knew something was up so I quietly picked up the phone and listened. As soon as I picked up the phone I heard my sister say to my Mom “You don’t need this, you don’t need her. Just get rid of her, kick her out.”
I lost it. My Mom called the cops and I was sent to the psych ward for 2.5 days. The staff at the psych ward told me that I needed to get away from my family, that they were unhealthy. I ended up moving in with my Dad after that. He had just purchased what I like to call, a glorified town home, in a prestigious neighborhood development in Bel Air, MD.
So things were going well for a while. In the spring semester I started school. For the first time in my life I realized that I was smart. Not only did I realize I was smart but my parents took notice. They would later use this against me and tell me that I was too smart for my own good.
My first semester back in school I made honor roll; I got a 4.0. My plan was to do another semester at least at the community college and then attend Goucher College. Goucher had a tremendous program for computer music. As a reward for doing so well in school, my mom got me a Mac G4 tower, a pair of studio monitors, and the emagic Production kit which included the Logic software and an audio and midi interface.
During this time my sister was planning her wedding; the date was set for August 23rd which was also the date of mom’s birthday. This was really hard for me because my sister gave me the title of Maid of Honor while having her best friend be the Matron of Honor. She didn’t want me to have any part in her wedding, she just did the proper thing by giving me the title. This really hurt.
The rehearsal dinner was really really difficult for me. The entire family was there and there was me … the family fuck up. I wasn’t made to feel comfortable, the family made me feel uncomfortable. It used to be my brother Greg who was the scapegoat, now it was me. So I had numerous shots of Jaegermeister while handing others shots too. I ended up leaving and went down to the city to be with the only friend I thought I had. The same friend I made many years prior at Starbucks.
I was always ridiculed for the way I looked, constantly harped and teased at by the family. This I endured my entire life.
A few weeks later, about two weeks into classes I took a pregnancy test. I was pregnant. I went to the ‘friend’ I thought I had and he wanted nothing to do with it. When I told him the news he responded immediately with “You’re going to have an abortion, right?” Well, yes. That’s what I was going to do but I wanted some sort of support. I was a wreck. I was raised in a household that was very pro life.
So, completely alone and torn up inside, I went to my mom. My parents then told me that the choice was mine and it was up to me what I did, but if I had an abortion they would no longer support me and help me go to school. I ended up taking the semester off. I slipped into a complete depression.
I remember talking to my mom about what to do. I wasn’t prepared to take care of a child, I was a student studying music. I wanted to do the right thing. Maybe the right thing to do would be to put the child up for adoption. My mother’s response was this exactly “Maeghan, if you put your child up for adoption a piece of you will be missing forever.”
The countless times I was told growing up that I was selfish was one of the most manipulative things used against me. I decided on my own to forfeit my dreams of studying music; I knew that I was perfectly capable of excelling in anything I put my mind to. So I decided to apply to Loyola College of Maryland and major in English. I couldn’t go forward with my dreams because my dreams did not include financial success; I was willing to be the poor starving artist but I didn’t want my child to have to suffer.
Guinivere Maeve was born May 23rd, 2004. She was a little angel. I loved her with all my hear and my soul. She and I were in tune with each other. I was a confident mother and she was what my mom and sister in law called ‘a dream baby’.
I had gained a ton of weight during the pregnancy, so two weeks after I gave birth I put myself on a very disciplined diet. I went from being 174 to 112 in about 2.5 months. When there is a will there is a way. During these months, my parents attitude towards me drifted. They started treating me like I was a criminal. That entire summer I took care of Guin solely. I asked my mom once to watch Guin so I could go out for an evening, it was August, and I was 24 years old.
In the middle of August the entire family had a sort of family reunion in Dallas, Texas. This is where my oldest brother lived with his family. I was completely dependent on my parents and I was about to start a new school. I wanted to get some new clothes so I could have a little bit of sense of dignity. They were treating me like I was a teenager who was on parole. I remember how badly chapped my hands were from the constant washing of Guin’s bottles. My hands were literally cracking and my mom bought me some lotion; she also made me feel like this was a great gift that she gave me that I should be indebted to.
When school started it got worse. Looking back I realize that I wanted my parents to accept me. I wanted to excel, I wanted to do well. My father told me time and time again how difficult it was going to be. One of the schools requirements was 2 years of a foreign language so I decided to study Latin because I figured it would help me have a better understanding of the English language.
My first quiz I brought home and showed it to my father. He told me that it was just going to get harder. I had received the highest grade in the class, but it wasn’t worthy of a congratulations or a good job. Then I started to receive more mental abuse from my father. He started to tell me “there is something wrong with you, you are sick, there is something wrong with you.” So I studied harder and did my best at my studies.
Meanwhile, my parents had started to be the sole caretakers of Guinivere. Loyola was not a school that one would commute to; so the classes weren’t set up in a way that saved time. I would leave for class at 8 in the morning and wouldn’t get home till about 8 or so in the evening. Then I would have homework.
The verbal abuse got worse as time went by. About 2 months into classes I came to the realization that I didn’t belong at Loyola. I had an epiphany as a result of of my Shakespeare class I was taking; we were studying Hamlet and it came to the scene of skeletons in the closet. Prior to the semester starting I decided to take my Korg N1, my performance controller digital piano and put it away in my closet. I didn’t want to be reminded of my abandoned dream.
My epiphany was this; I decided that it was pointless for me to pursue something in life that I had no desire pursuing other than the possible financial stability it would provide. I grew up in a household that was wealthy. My father was a multimillionaire. Money does not make one happy. I just wanted to pursue music studies. I also realized that it wouldn’t be fare to my child if I denied myself. Sacrificing yourself for your child is not a healthy mindset.
Even though my father was now constantly telling me that school was going to get harder and that there was something wrong me; I started to let it be known that I really just wanted to return to studying music. It got worse and worse to the point that my Dad threatened to kick me out of the house if I didn’t go to the hospital and get a psychiatric evaluation.
Really? What kind of child deserves this type of treatment. I was moving forward, at least trying to move forward. It was my family that threw rocks and boulders in my path. They wanted me to fail. I later found out that they wanted me to fail in such a way that is barely believable; but belief is not necessary because it was a cold hard fact.
I knew that I wasn’t mentally ill like what my father was constantly suggesting. I was diagnosed by a top doctor from Johns Hopkins with ADHD; I’ve recently realized that Aspergers is a more accurate diagnosis. It goes back to my youth and not playing with other kids, not connecting with my peers, and being teased and made fun of and not knowing why. But that’s a subject matter for a whole other essay. I knew that I wasn’t crazy like my parents thought so I went to the hospital one night so I could be evaluated. The result of the evaluation did not please my parents; and this is when my father started to tell me that I was too smart for my own good.
I asked my father quite a few times if I could add music on as a second major; and each time he said no. It got to the point that I didn’t see the point in letting my father pay over 17,000 a semester so I could study something that I had no interest in.During this time I even went to the school therapist seeking help for my situation. They listened to me but were unable to provide any advise or guidance.
So I called my father up one day after while I was in school. Prior to calling I had gone through the necessary measure to add music on as a second major. I also filled out the proper forms to completely drop out of school. In order to drop out properly one must fill out the right forms and obtain signatures from the guidance counselor. My Dad answered the phone and I told him that I didn’t see the point in letting him spend a fortune so I could study something that my heart was not in. I made it clear to him that declaring a second major doesn’t cost any more. So I gave him an ultimatum, either let me be a double major or I’m ready to drop out. His response was “not with my money. No!”
So I lost it, I had what is refereed to as meltdown amongst people with aspergers. I should add that what ultimately triggered the meltdown was my brother Chris’ treatment to me. After my Dad gave me his response I broke down in tears. For some reason I drove to my sisters house. When I was over my sisters house my brother came over (he lived a house down from my sister’s with his family.) I can’t remember what was said but my brother triggered my meltdown, he knew what he was doing cause he laughed afterwards.
Then, I lost it. Once again cops were called and I end up in a hospital except this time they let me go after telling me that it was my family that was sick and not me.
I stayed with my mom the next day and my parents then gave me another ultimatum. If I didn’t voluntarily check myself in to Shepperd Pratt that I’d no longer be welcome in the home. All this time they had begun to treat Guin like she was their own child and not their grandchild.
So I checked myself in. The residing doctor was cold and heartless; he was there to diagnosis symptoms and prescribe a pill. I was there for a week and a half; the whole time I was worried about school. I had just gotten through midterms and I somehow managed to get good grades despite what I was going through.
When I was discharged the doctor had no diagnosis for me. But I was prescribed Depakote and Seroquel. The day following my discharge I went to Loyola and spoke with the Dean of First year students; the semester was a wash. There was no way I could catch up after missing a week and a half. I was devastated and also fearful because of the way my parents treat money. This was thousands and thousands of dollars wasted. I was practically in tears in her office.
Then, for one of the first times in my life, someone stood up for me. I remember the gist of what the Dean said to me. She told me that the school really liked me and they thought I was very bright. They didn’t want to see me suffer so she offered to me that the tuition from the current semester could be applied to the the Spring semester. I just had to agree to do one thing. I had to be willing to see a therapist that was int heir network, someone they knew and trusted. I gladly obliged.
Needless to say, I stopped taking the pills that were prescribed to me by the doctor at Shepperd Pratt. The medicine made me feel like a shell of a human; completely numb and of little thought.
The following week I started seeing the counselor. After only one session she decided that the following session required both my parents to be there. She ripped both of my parents a new asshole. My father was a controlling tyrant; if one doesn’t conform then out they go. I didn’t agree with my father’s political views like my other siblings. I challenged them. My mother was manipulative and narcissistic. Funny though, she always accused my father of being narcissistic.
A few weeks later after a therapy session my father and I were out together and he was shopping. My dad loved to go shopping. Most of my childhood was spent shopping for stuff. I probably spent the equivalent of 3 months time in Price CLub growing up. Since shopping was one of the few things my father and I often bonded with I asked my Dad to join me at Jordan Kitt’s. I wanted to show him a piano that I thought was a great buy, or bang for the buck.
I wasn’t expecting my father to go in with me and buy a piano on the spot; but that’s what he did. Then the following day he called up the store and spoke with the sales rep; he changed his mind. What kind of father does this sort of thing? a five thousand purchase was pretty much nothing to him. This was a man who had numerous homes, a yacht, a $90,000 BMW, a $60,000 Escalde.
Sure enough when I told the counselor the following weekend what happened she demanded another family session.That following session she put my father in his place. You don’t do that to a your children. But this was something I was used to, my Dad did stuff like this to me my entire life.
A few weeks later my parents took myself and Guin back to the piano store. I guess he was going to fix a wrong. When we got the store I was informed that my Dad was not interested in the Boston upright that he had first purchased. Nope, instead my father was looking at a full size grand piano, a full sized Steinway.
The piano was two days before Christmas. Things started looking up. School started and I started lessons with an amazing pianist who was by far the most amazing teacher I ever had. I started playing the piano at age 5; started formal lessons in the 1st grade. I took lessons until the end of high school, but if anything the lessons did more bad then good.
Prior to the delivery of the Steinway, my Dad said to me “How is it that you think you are a musician? There are no musicians in your family. You couldn’t even play Yankee Doodle on the piano if I asked you to.” As weeks went by my father would come downstairs and comment on my progress. I could see in his eyes that he was really taken back, he didn’t believe me that I was talented.
When classes started for the Spring semester things didn’t change much regarding Guin. My parents took care of her. School occupied all my time. The time I spent practicing on the piano was done last. I did all my normal studies first and then I would practice. Adding piano to my studies had no impact on how much time I spent with Guin. I thought things were finally going to go smoothly.
My parents started mentioning to me their concerns of Guin’s guardianship. They were worried if something were to happen to Guin while I was at school, they would not have the authority to ok care at a hospital. I also realized that they were taking care of her solely. I looked to the future and thought how unfair it would be to just take Guin from them after graduating college. WIth the concerns they mentioned to me I asked my parents if they wanted to adopt Guin.
I understood that letting my parents adopt Guin meant that I’d forfeit all my parental rights, but this also meant that the sperm donor who wanted nothing to do with the child, who denied it was even his, could change his mind years later and demand to be a part of her life. He wanted me to abort the pregnancy.
When I let my parents adopt Guin I didn’t do so under the pretense that I was not going to be her parent. They were taking care of her and it was going to be at least two years till I graduated school. I thought it was going to be a mutual partnership; taking care of my daughter together.
Shortly after I made this decision I realized my parents intentions. They wanted nothing to do with me; they just wanted my daughter. I realized this because I started receiving the treatment from them that was the usual; the way they treated me the previous summer and fall.
The opportunity presented itself to me to move to philadelphia and pursue recording; I choose to drop out of school and move to Philly because there was no certain stability with my parents.
I didn’t suspect that they would prevent me from having a relationship with her. That is just what they did and have done. After I got back from getting married in June of 2011 I sat down with my mom and told her that I wanted to be more of a part of Guin’s life; I had always wanted to be more present in her life. I never stopped being her mom. My mom told me no, that 2 parents is all a child needs.
It really hurt me that I was not allowed to go to any of her birthday parties or school events. My parents were raising her as if she was literally their own. I told my mom from the beginning that I wanted to be mummy to guin, I wanted to be a part of her life. I also told my mom that it was really important to me for me to be a part of special occasions like vacations. I was invited to go to one vacation with Guin all these years.
November of 2012 my parents decided to take Guin to Disney world for a second time. The first time conveniently happened right before my wedding. It wasn’t until a month before the trip to Disney world I found out that my parents were also taking my sister, her husband, and her three daughters too. I asked to go and they said no.
Then something tragic happened to me. My husband, myself and our good friend were out celebrating new years eve in Baltimore. I was by myself going from one bar to another to meet up with my husband when I accidentally brushed my shoulder up against a girl on the sidewalk.
The next thing i know I’m being beaten to by two girls. Cops were called, an ambulance was waiting for me but I choose to let my husband drive me to the county hospital, a familiar place. My nose was fractured in two different places.
It was this tragedy that brought out the truth. I was in shock and looking for comfort. I called my dad numerous times throughout the day, no answer. I finally reached him in the later evening. My dad’s response to what happened to me: “This was your fault, you are the cause of this happening.”
Then my brother let out the truth, he told me something that I already knew. He just validated it. My brother told me that he had spoken with my mom the previous summer mentioning my role in guin’s life. He asked if they, my parents, were going to allow me to be more of a part of Guin’s life. My mom’s response to my brother was “absolutely not, maeghan is no good for Guin.”
After I gave birth to Guin my parents devised a plan. They wanted my daughter and wanted nothing to do with me. They had a family conference that occurred over the phone since my brother Greg lived in Dallas. It was Greg’s ex-wife who remembered the most details about the conference. It was their sick plan and they asked for my siblings help. The plan was simple: get maeghan put in the nut house; have her declared unfit to be a parent so that they could legally obtain guardianship.
It took something tragic to happen to me for me to realize that my parents did not love me. I loved them unconditionally though, I forgave them and forgave them. I am the one that pays every day and sadly my daughter pays too, she just doesn’t know it.
I stood up to my mom this past winter and told her I knew the truth. I told her I didn’t like how they were raising my daughter. Being over my mom’s house my mom was constantly yelling at Guin to either start doing something or stop doing something. My mom is a manipulative control freak. My poor Dad was a victim of my mom’s manipulation. It was my mom growing up that had myself walking on eggshells for fear of my dad exploding. What I didn’t know that it was my mom who set off the my dad’s triggers, not me.
So I gave my mom a piece of my mind, told her how I felt. Her reaction; she cut my phone line off the following day. My husband and I live on very little so she helped me out with paying for my phone service and paying for my health insurance. It should be noted that my mother literally has millions.
I confronted my sister about ‘the plan’ and she responded to me “you are crazy. do me a favor and delete my number from your phone.”
I confronted my brother Chris about this and his response was “I can’t remember what happened.” This is what I would expect for Chris to say since he a leader at his church.
My brother Greg and his ex-wife clearly remember. I remember the experience of going through it. My father telling me “You are sick, you are sick, there is something wrong with you.”
I owe the world to my oldest brother Greg. He was my only friend. He told me the truth despite knowing the consequences of telling me the truth. It’s really sad because growing up one of the main things my mom would talk about would be Greg. She would go on and on about how much of awful person he was, how he was selfish, just wanted money, was a disappointment.
My parents never had a nice to thing to say about other people. They would talk about how awful horse trainers were, coaches were, other players were, other parents were. Meanwhile, us kids weren’t allowed to express ourselves. We weren’t allowed to have emotion much less show it. If I started to cry I would be threatened to be dealt something that would really make me cry.
The final point I would like to make is what was told to my siblings when they had their conference call, my parents told my brothers and sister that if they informed Maeghan of their plan, their intentions, that they would be cut off. As in, no inheritance.
Money is evil, it gives people power over others, it corrupts families, and destroys people’s lives. I was naive and gullible; I loved my parents and wanted their love. I trusted them with my daughter. My mom told me that if I gave my child up for adoption, that a piece of me would missing forever. Well, she took my daughter and manipulated me into signing my rights away. After
I had to write this. I have to let this be known. I’ve been unable to barely function let alone make music. I’m hoping that writing this and sharing this with the world will give me a sense of piece. I pleaded with my oldest brother asking him “how do i heal from this?” It’s said by psychologists that one can not forgive someone who is continuing to wrong them.