One of my secrets

[Pepin]

  I had a memory today -- rear its ugly head....one that I have been terribly ashamed about...not one that I have ever told anyone.  And sadly, it was a pretty chronic thing that I did...and well, it all makes sense.  I stole.  Lots of things.  Whatever I could get my little hands on.  And it all started in first grade.  It was easy.  We had show and tell and I knew what there was that I could steal.  Our cubbies were all next to each other with our school bags and I could easily slip my arm into a classmates school bag and transfer the item quickly into mine without every being detected.  I could do this when we were getting ready for recess or returning.  It was terrible that I did this...and no one found out it was me.  Yes, I took candy from the supermarket while my mother dealt with the cashier.  I even helped myself to whatever was in the lost in found at school...no one knew or cared.  We lived in a very well off town.  My classmates generally weren't hurting for anything and couldn't have cared less honestly.  If I happened to be sitting at someone else's desk in elementary school for whatever reason, it was easy for me to take something small...ugh.

Why did I do this??  Abandonment.  It took me decades to understand.  And this only happened during my K-8 schooling experience and I have never done it again nor would I ever.  I started therapy around 9th grade with a school counselor in private during my free periods between classes instead of study hall.  I never told her anything about stealing....but finally having an outlet to unload about all the garbage in my life was tremendously helpful -- even though at the time I wasn't given any tools for dealing with it.  The counselor was just someone to vent to.

It took until my late 40s to understand that I had been abandoned as a toddler when my siblings were born.  It was too much for my mother to have a bunch of little kids to deal with and a husband that was starting to show his narcissistic side.  She was going to do the bare minimum and that meant Pepin was generally on her own, while my mother dealt with my siblings.  My father.....he just *kind of* worked and watched TV, nothing else.  My mother was doing the rest....raising kids, maintaining a household, watching the finances, pursuing her hobby which actually was work -- and just trying to survive.  Nobody was watching me.

I had a few health issues that landed me in the hospital as a toddler and young child.  I think this made my mother angry because it was more work for her.  I was alone in the hospital at night.  My mother couldn't be there all the time because of my siblings.  My father had his work and also wasn't really there.  I was just existing.  And I think stealing was a way that I had hoped would get me noticed.  But.  It actually didn't.

I find it bizarre that no one was keeping track of my personal things at that age.  How much could I have possibly owned between my toys, knick knacks and clothes?  As a parent myself, I know exactly what my kids had when they were very young.  I cleaned their rooms and did their laundry.  I knew.  Whatever my younger self stole, I didn't hide either.  It was right out in the open.  Even on my bedside table...no one questioned it.

I am really sad for my younger self.  She didn't deserve what was handed to her.  And that was only the beginning. 

[Leonor]

Oh, Pepin, it's ok.

I shoplifted all the time when I was about 10-12 years old. There was a general store on the way home from school and we loaded up our pockets with candy. I got caught when my mom opened a drawer in my room and bags of candy spilled out. I had to return the candy and got grounded for a long time, but I was always grounded so it didn't matter that much.

Looking back, I'm sure the owner knew all the middle schoolers were shoplifting candy bars and licorice sticks from his little store. I don't know why I did it, I was so numb all the time and I was doing what the other kids did. Other times we were so excited to save up 10 cents for a stick of hard candy, so there was no real logic to it.

I think the worst thing I did was, when I was 11-12, steal stuff from a family I was babysitting for, left the kids alone in the house, and went with my friend, her brother and my older stepsister and trashed a classmate's house. It was so mean. I got caught, of course- I had to return the money, replace what I stole and my sister and I had to scrub our classmates' house clean (and again, grounded!) It was a very just punishment, and I still feel guilty about hurting my classmate. But I also have to have empathy for me, who was completely dissociated, and my older sister, who was being abused by my mom and her father. We were trashing our house, in our own way. And since we were all children, it's part of my healing work to forgive all of us and hold us in compassion.

I had open heart surgery when I was 7 and I remember lots about the experience, but I have no memory of my mom visiting me in the hospital. Not one. Five weeks after I got out, she got married to my stepfather. I only recently allowed the awareness that she actually didn't come to the hospital, that she was spending the "free time" with her new boyfriend. Little kids are not "bad seeds." They do not and should not "know better." They are little human being-lets trying to make their way in a big scary world, and they're doing the best they can.

Part of the reason I think this world is in the place it's in is because human beings are so hung up on "Mine" and "Not Yours." There's enough to go around for everyone. If I saw a little boy or girl go through my stuff, I'd probably put some really cool little treasures in there and pretend to leave it just a bit unattended next time.

Here's a  for all us naughty ones out there!

[pianissimo]

Hi Pepin,

I also had a coping mechanism that was problematic. Like you, it took a long time to realize it wasn't a choice I made as a child, it was just a way to fill the void neglect was leaving me in. It's hard to shake off the shame of it though.

[Pepin]

Hi Pepin,

I also had a coping mechanism that was problematic. Like you, it took a long time to realize it wasn't a choice I made as a child, it was just a way to fill the void neglect was leaving me in. It's hard to shake off the shame of it though.

Yeah....exactly, it wasn't a choice I made as a child.  I just sort of did it without knowing why until I was more mature to know that it as wrong.  I didn't really do anything else that was considered naughty considering that I was raised by an authoritarian - and the consequences for me messing up on any level would have been damaging.  I complied to survive once I understand the situation.

Sadly, I have some other bad coping habits but they don't involve anyone else except myself.  I still struggle with being kind to myself -- or sometimes I am not mindful enough about things such as over eating that have consequences.  I eat a lot for my size....and over the years I have added a layer of padding to my entire body.  I am actually mostly ok with my size...as long as I am covered up which I strive to do when I get dressed.  Covering up was my way of preventing comments from NF (before no contact) and CN MIL (before she passed) about my size.  Both had body issues and would make remarks about my weight rather than focusing on their own. 

I don't know why I did it, I was so numb all the time and I was doing what the other kids did.

I am certain that others did it, too that I knew.  But yeah, that's the thing, I did it so easily from a place of numbness.  It was basically like, oh here's an opportunity, who is going to stop me?  No one. 

Another thing that just popped into my head was the way money was used against me when I was young.  NF used to brag all the time about spending money on trips and restaurants, claiming that others we knew weren't in the position to do this.  Actually, that was a lie.  A brainwashing lie.  It's just that my peers had different ways of spending money...and back in the 80s, a lot of it was material.  I looked like a peasant compared to my peers and I generally wore the same ragged few outfits and 2 pairs of shoes.  Today, I still rotate through several outfits but what I wear is well taken care of and generally of high quality.  And I do keep myself up to date unlike my younger self who had no choice but to wear what was in my closet.  This perhaps explains why I picked through the lost and found to add to my limited wardrobe...I just wanted to fit in or at least be noticed for looking nice. 

[pianissimo]

Sadly, I have some other bad coping habits but they don't involve anyone else except myself.  I still struggle with being kind to myself -- or sometimes I am not mindful enough about things such as over eating that have consequences.  I eat a lot for my size....and over the years I have added a layer of padding to my entire body.  I am actually mostly ok with my size...as long as I am covered up which I strive to do when I get dressed.  Covering up was my way of preventing comments from NF (before no contact) and CN MIL (before she passed) about my size.  Both had body issues and would make remarks about my weight rather than focusing on their own. 

You would get those comments regardless of your size. And, it's normal to react to them by hiding/covering yourself because comments on your body from people you don't consider safe are some kind of harassment.

If overeating is because of stress, then it's possibly your body's built-in coping mechanism. A gentler approach to deal with it would be to reduce stress factors in your life, for example by working less, getting more rest, sleeping better, exercising more (exercise regulates stress hormones too.) It's easier said than done though. But, I guess I'm trying to say, overeating isn't necessarily about self-restraint. This is at least my experience. I keep up with healthy eating habits a lot better when I'm not overworking.

[escapingman]

You would get those comments regardless of your size.

My uNPDstbxw used to tell me I was fat, and when I lost weight I was to skinny, there was no "normal" so always bad in one way or another.

[Srcyu]

You're very brave to come out with that.

I was stolen from four times as a child and two of those times were done by my brother.  He broke into my money box once and nothing was done about it. They were such a vile family.
When I started work he used to creep into my room at night looking for my purse.

So your post hit the wrong mark with me.  It was mainly when you claimed that the other children didn't care about the thefts that my memory stirred. I was a soft target.

I do see your point though about why you stole. We all develop behaviours that help to get us through. It's possible that stealing gave you some control that your home life lacked. Maybe you felt that those other children had so much that you deserved some of it. It could just be that you did it - because you could. I don't think it brought you joy though.

The damage these adults do is endless.

[Pepin]

You're very brave to come out with that.

I was stolen from four times as a child and two of those times were done by my brother.  He broke into my money box once and nothing was done about it. They were such a vile family.
When I started work he used to creep into my room at night looking for my purse.

So your post hit the wrong mark with me.  It was mainly when you claimed that the other children didn't care about the thefts that my memory stirred. I was a soft target.

I do see your point though about why you stole. We all develop behaviours that help to get us through. It's possible that stealing gave you some control that your home life lacked. Maybe you felt that those other children had so much that you deserved some of it. It could just be that you did it - because you could. I don't think it brought you joy though.

The damage these adults do is endless.

It is true that what I did could have affected my peers -- but no one brought it up so I don't really know. 

And yes, I definitely was seeking some control since I knew that my home life lacked what I needed.  I often used to tell myself that no one cared about stupid little kids like myself -- and yes, I was also called that.  As I mentioned above, I was a well behaved child because I had to be.  Stealing could have been a rebellious side as well -- just to see what I could get away with since I was always in line with everything else.  And it is true, I wish I had what my peers had.  Even though it was just stuff, it was stuff that defined the 80s more or less.  Little erasers and Hello Kitty stuff were all the rage.  I remember being gifted some designer clothing for one of my birthdays because my friends knew that those things were never purchased for me even though we had the means for it.  I was even given a few hand me downs...because again, my peers just knew.  My home life was incredibly backwards and controlling. 

I do feel very badly about the stealing.   

[Danden]

Thank you for posting this.  I agree that you are brave.   :yeahthat:I too have done this in the past.  When I was a young woman, in college, I was living at home.  I wanted to feel special and pretty.  But nobody in my home life was giving me that.   So I shoplifted, lots and lots of clothes.  Soon I had so much I just donated many of them to a clothing bin.  I couldn't keep all of them in my house.  I think I am lucky I never got caught, and the shame of it is just with me, and "real" thing out in the world.  I guess I did it because nobody really cared about me, nobody ever told me I should have nice things and I guess I felt I didn't deserve them.  I guess I just wanted to keep my exterior feeling and looking good, even though inside I was sad.  Thanks for posting this and letting me realize I am not the only one.       

[Leonor]

Oh my dear friends,

Shoplifting is not a crime against humanity.

If we were truly humane beings, the idea that a little child might fancy something that all the other little children have and then be denied it because she is too poor or too unpopular or too neglected would be obscene.

But, alas, we are only human beings, and so here we are.

When we feel shame over something we did or said or thought when we were being abused, we're really feeling shame for being abused. We're taking on the abuser's shame and living in it like a scratchy wool sweater. It's a way of being loyal to your abuser, to protect them: "I know you were abusing me, but I did / said / thought this other thing, which was terrible, so what you did to me wasn't so bad."

It is a way of being loyal to our abuser. We take their side. We agree with them. "Oh, I did bad things, too." "Oh, I should have known better." "Oh, I was really hateful after all."

You know where I hear this all the time? When people get hung up on guilt versus shame. "Guilt" is somehow ok, because it means you have a conscience, but shame is bad because it means you're a bad person.

Yeah ... no. I think the guilt versus shame thing is just a way to get around saying you feel ashamed and still beating yourself up. "Oh it's ok that I'm hating on myself, because I'm just feeling guilty, not ashamed."

Or the self-improvement nonsense. "It's ok I hate on myself for being overweight because I'm not taking care of myself." Um, no. It's not virtuous or healing to hate on yourself. It's just more abuse heaped on top of abuse.

What if you took yourself on a little girl shopping spree? Hello Kitty pencil holders, and unicorn stickers, and multicolored erasers?

Because you deserve it.

[Cat of the Canals]

Here's my confession: I shoplifted frequently in my teens. And in second grade, my friend had these sparkly winter gloves I fell in love with, and I stole them! Funny enough, PDmom noticed them immediately and demanded to know where I got them. Full on interrogation mode. I lied and said my friend had given them to me. But I knew the jig was up and gave them back the next school day.

I remember being gifted some designer clothing for one of my birthdays because my friends knew that those things were never purchased for me even though we had the means for it. 

I was in the same situation. I wore almost all hand-me-downs until I was in my teens. I have a video of my 5th birthday. My friend's mom bought me a trendy outfit. And I recall she almost always bought me clothes for my birthdays after that as well. I realize now that she must have felt bad I never had anything new.

I loved sparkly, girly things and my mother refused to buy them for me, because she has this outdated idea of feminism being the opposite of anything "feminine." Those gloves I stole were probably a dollar store item. Nothing fancy. But I KNEW as soon as I saw them, my mother would never buy me anything of the sort. Meanwhile she frequently shopped for herself and never left the house without applying makeup. But I "didn't need" makeup. 

[Pepin]

I was thinking more about the stealing I did during my youth...and it is ironic that my stealing could have actually been a reaction to what was stolen (my childhood) from me and therefore I turned around and did what I knew.  Probably the first and most damaging thing that was done to me was the abandonment when I was a toddler.  The one parent (my mother) that was there for me was suddenly unavailable.  It was her that I was trying to get attention from.  And I felt ugly compared to her whereas my sister was nearly a carbon copy of my mother that people couldn't get enough of. 

My mother was far more attentive to my sister and took great care in her wardrobe.  I remember feeling terribly jealous that I didn't get to wear the same cute outfits or shoes that she did.....and that continued on for many years even after my mother passed at a young age.  My father kept that fuel going when he took over the shopping duties. 

I do find it interesting that quite a few of us stole.  And we just wanted to fit in.  I really don't understand why this was so difficult for our parents to understand...though many of us on this site are here to work through the baggage of having been raised by PD parents. 

As a parent myself, it was always a top priority that my children express themselves and choose what they wanted to wear.  I wasn't going to deny them this social outlet and made it happen as best as I could.  They wanted something?  OK, fine.  Within reason though...

This is a tough subject to navigate.  It's possible that I did cause some angst with my stealing - but I wasn't made aware.  I have been the victim of theft a few times myself.....and yeah, it is quite painful -- though this happened as an adult.  My younger stealing self had no idea really what she was doing in 1st grade when it all began.  This was a person who was dependent on her parents for survival and not being taught good things about herself.  I was on my own, winging it...and no one noticed because no one cared.     

[easterncappy]

Children are mush-brained and impressionable, and human beings have to learn a lot of our morality as children. If there's no one to teach it, then we do these things until we figure it out. It's fine. The younger the kid, the less of a grasp they really have of what they're doing. The older the kid, the more they want to push limits and develop their own worldview. Proper parenting is supposed to turn these things into learning experiences.

I was at church a couple months ago and a really little girl was walking around showing everyone "her money. I thought it was suspicious, so I found her dad, and we figured out that she got it from the donation basket... her dad corrected her, put the money back, she cried for a bit, but that was probably one of many lessons she'd get as a toddler about how you don't just take things that you like because they're there. That's why most kids figure it out before they even get to elementary school.

We never got that. At least, I never did. I was basically a feral child. My mom and dad did ZERO parenting, the majority of my interactions with them were either 1) abuse or 2) age-inappropriate attempts at "being my friend". I'm actually surprised I turned out semi-decent as an adult because of it.

I did many of the same things. When I was in kindergarten and first grade, I stole a lot. As I got older, I did other "bad stuff". I skipped class a lot. I started doing it in middle school. I drew on the walls of the school bathrooms. I got into arguments, talked back to teachers, said mean things to other students. I got suspended like... 13 times in one year? I hardly remember anymore. It means nothing now. Eventually I had to raise myself to be a functional adult. I always had a conscience, just some mental issues and lack of discipline and guidance that came from my parents. Everything I did made perfect sense in the context of being raised by two overgrown teenagers with personality disorders in a household full of immorality and abuse. I'm not ashamed of it.

But it did make me empathize a lot more with "bad kids". I learned that there's almost always some family issues behind bad behavior. With the exception of the very few "bad kids" who are legitimate sociopaths, most of us turn out just fine when we get away from the reason we "act out".

[escapingman]

easterncappy, that sounds really awful. I had a very similar upbringing although without abuse, my feelings were completely ignored and I was never told off or praised whatever I did. I didn't steal but started drinking and behave badly in school from when I was about 13, but even when they found out they didn't say anything. It sucks to not have been told right from wrong and I can really see how it has affected me all my life.

[Leonor]

There are no "bad" kids.

There are sad kids.

There are hurting kids.

There are sick kids.

Kids don't keep secrets very well. They are so communicative; they tell and tell and tell. When they've been ignored, they don't pay attention. When they've been robbed, they steal. When they've been beaten, they get into fights. When they've been abandoned, they drink. When they've been sexually abused, they sleep around. When they've been invalidated, they talk back. When they've been humiliated, they bully.

It's the adults who don't listen. Who lie and gaslight and ignore and say the kids are not sad or hurt or sick. They say they are "bad." And, because they are bad, they do "bad things." They behave "badly."

It's a perfect crime, really. It can go any way they want: You did a bad thing. Ergo, you behaved badly. Ergo, you are bad. Or, you behave badly, ergo, you do bad things. Ergo, you are bad. Or, you're bad. That's why you behave so badly and did that bad thing.

Do you think you should have been "above it all?" "Known better?" "Behaved better?" Really? Think about your earliest memory of being screamed at, pushed, slapped, left alone, ignored, frightened, insulted, violated. How old were you?

Now go to a park or school yard and find a child about that same age. Maybe he's playing catch with his dog. Maybe she's on a swing set. Maybe he's in a stroller.

Now think of this precious child suffering that abuse. Would you tell them they should know better? Behave better? That they are naughty for shoplifting a candy bar? For wondering what daddy's drink tastes like? For not paying attention to their arithmetic homework?

I just get very tough about this, because I think shame and guilt and secrets and the "yeah, buts" are the one place where survivors stay loyal to their abusers and keep on abusing themselves under the false premise of being "aware" or "remorseful" or "having a conscience." Of being "good."

When what you are doing, really, is abuse. Now you're the adult who isn't listening, or gaslighting, or just flat out lying.

"I was molested but really I shouldn't have been so 'easy' as a teenager."

"My dad would scream in my face but really, I should have been more respectful to my teachers."

"My mom had hangovers every morning but I shouldn't have given a shot of whiskey to my little sister."

"My parents gave my beloved kitten away but it was really wrong of me to steal my classmate's pencil case."

Let's turn that around: "I stole as a little child because my parents hated me and I felt so lonely and I thought if I had nice things the other children wouldn't make fun of me and then I could feel like I belonged somewhere."

"I disrespected my teachers because my father used to terrorize my mom and then my mom would lock herself in her room and I felt so angry at all these stupid adults, I thought they were a bunch of hypocrites and told them as much."

"I gave my little sister a shot of whiskey because mommy and daddy always smelled like that bottle and got into fights over who drank from it and I wanted to see what the big deal was."

"When things got really bad I would stare out something or hum a song or stick my fingers in my ears and when I got to be a teenager and someone passed me a joint I thought oh wow, I don't have to work so hard to tune the b.s. out anymore."

You did not behave badly. You did not do bad things. You were not bad.

You were hurt, and you were sad. You did sad things. You behaved sadly.