True Crime: Evil Stepmother
A story I guarantee you have never heard before (unless you are directly related to me)
We all grew up reading fairy tales that involve some kind of evil stepmother who abuses children. Usually good, sweet natured, beautiful children. Lately, the evil stepmother has gotten a bit of a reprieve in many types of media and medium, such as books and movies. While I, personally, enjoy seeing the much maligned "evil step-mother" trope finally catch a break, I think we also need to shed some light on actual evil mothers.
Mothers, as most of you well know, enjoy a kind of free pass. We all assume that women are all loving, caring, and maternal in nature. No matter how bad they may be, they still get to cry, talk, or otherwise flirt their way out of any crime they have committed, no matter how heinous.
Because of this, the female sociopath has been considered a very rare bird indeed. Almost unheard of. We all assume that men hold all the cards in this area, as they mostly own all types of anger almost exclusively. Aside from the old adage "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned", of course; though most of the time this is used to laugh at a woman who is angry, not to warn against the murderous inclinations of the "fairer" sex.
To me, the stories we have heard since we were children are nothing at all like those truly horrible women who commit crimes unchecked in the real world. They are not scary at all. Why, you ask? Well, because I grew up with the real thing. Twice, actually.
I considered writing about my abusive biological mother, who hurt us in every way imaginable and is still free to care for children at church to this day due to the fact that no one ever believed that a woman, a mother, could be that cruel. I was always the one that came out looking like the monster when I tried to tell others of her sick and disgusting mind. I never stopped trying though.
I decided to, instead, tell of my step-mother (obviously, due to the title!).
She is a real piece of work, let me tell you!
No, literally, I will tell you.
I first met this horrible woman when I was 5 years old. My parents were getting a divorce, and he took us to his new home to meet his girl-fiend. She loomed over us, and in an unkind voice, called us ragamuffins.
I had never heard that tone before. It gave me chills.
How could I remember so clearly at 5? That's the power of child abuse, baby!
I was terrified of the new house, but made the best of it. I mean, I was terrified at BOTH of my houses, so it was nothing new.
My step-monster soon moved in with her 2 boys. Those boys were, you guessed it, mean as well. They would hurt me daily by biting, sitting on me, pinching me till I bled, and general tormenting. When I tried to complain, I was ignored.
I became fed up one day, and bit one of them. My step-mother was infuriated! She yelled at me for what seemed like forever, then forced her son to bite me as hard as he could.
Then she gave them all my toys.
Not so bad yet? Not really a crime? Well, it gets worse.
I'll move right along, and just have you imagine the petty crap my new mommy dearest did to myself and my sisters over 9 years. None of it was pleasant, and her boys got a large share of everything while we girls went without.
When I was about 12, we moved into a HUGE mansion that my father's wife had designed herself. Her room, of course, was the size of most 1 bedroom apartments. I had lived in places smaller than her closet, to be honest!
There were rooms for each of us: 2 huge rooms for her boys, and three small rooms for us girls. Just more of the same we had learned to expect from her.
With this new big house, we were all given chores to do. Of course, the boys were not expected to do theirs.
This is where the real crime began, though I believe it had been planned from the beginning of the relationship with my father.
My allowance started to go missing. We each got a whopping $200 a month (thats even more when you understand it was the 80's.) I simply never received mine.
Then, she emptied my bank account. All of my savings; and I was a born saver.
She upped my chores every week, too. I was eventually in charge of cleaning the whole house, aside from my sisters chores.
She often called me Cinderella and laughed.
All gifts were actually meant for her sons, and they would take them later when guests had gone home.
They also helped themselves to everything they wanted in my room.
Mommy Dearest took the rest. Even the blankets, though dad made her give those back when he noticed them.
I mostly had bare bones furniture and clothing, and was granted a clock radio (though I had to use my brother's station. Jokes on her; I liked Classic rock!).
I did everyone's dishes every day. I cleaned her room, and my brother's rooms. I cleaned the whole basement and main floor. I cleaned all 4 bathrooms. I was NOT allowed to do laundry, so I was spared that, though I did have to fold.
I was often grounded from every room in the house, including my own. I spent a lot of time on the stairs.
I was isolated from my sisters and father. Now that I am older, I know that she was hurting all of them with individualized tortures meant for optimum suffering.
This woman was a monster.
As a child, though, I thought it was just me. I was happy in a way that I could direct her anger towards me, therefore sparing my sisters. I always took on the role of caring for them, as long as I could remember. No one else was, after all!
Then the impossible happened. My step-monster finally got pregnant. She was going to have my father's child.
You better believe the abuse became much, much worse.
She would wake me up at night, and make me clean the bathroom.
She accused me of abusing her new son.
She isolated me from everyone and everything.
She screamed at me for everything, even when I was doing nothing.
It was intolerable.
So, at 14, I ran away.
My dad brought me back, of course, but his horrible wife convinced him to let me go stay with my mom.
I didn't stay with my mom very long. She crazy.
So I was homeless from 14 to 17. It was brutal, but better than staying with HER.
Dad tried to convince me to come back, but SHE freaked out and wouldn't allow it.
So I stayed homeless until I was rescued, and pulled myself up by my bootstraps. That and lifelong counseling has led me to be a near successful adult at 40!
This story is not about me, however. It is about the monster I called my step-mom.
While I was trying to heal my wounds and grow as a person, she continued abusing my sisters and father. My dad did not really consider it abuse, as men are taught that they are the abusers, never the abusee.
She slowly sucked him dry, financially and emotionally. He bought her a degree she never used, paid for expensive colleges and homes for the boys, and generally gave them everything they wanted. My step-mom slowly built up a savings and entrusted it to one of her brothers in order to hide it.
She started claiming my father abused her. That she was afraid of him. Just a little at first, sowing the seed.
She isolated my father from all his family. He was only allowed to talk to HER family.
She forced him to buy a house and car from her father, then pocketed all the cash herself, putting it directly into her "secret" savings account.
After her boys grew up, had college paid for, had homes totally paid for, and had over a million dollars of my dad's money in a savings account, she filed for divorce. Before he could effectively remove her from his accounts, she had spent over $100,000 in one single month on fancy meals, clothes, and spa services.
You better believe she was demanding during the divorce.
She insisted on being given a "gift" of $20,000 right at the beginning. My dad gave it to her, hoping it would calm her down.
It didn't.
She demanded over half of his income every month, half of the proceeds of the sale of their home, another $20,000, and for him to cover ALL of her credit card debt, which was hundreds of thousands of dollars.
She got almost everything she wanted.
She only got 1/4 of the sale of the house, because my father still owed $200,000 on it. She got her $20,000, and slightly over half of my dad's income. He took on the majority of the debt.
I tried to get him to fight, but, after a year, he just wanted it over.
She took almost all of the furniture, even though it was all technically his, and dispersed it to the 2 apartments she had been hiding in Texas and New York. The money we knew she had hidden suddenly showed up in her account, on top of everything she had taken from my dad.
My father, who had worked 12 hour days as a doctor for over 50 years, had almost nothing. Just a large pile of debt and 3 daughters too poor to help him financially.
His sons COMPLETELY IGNORED HIM.
After all he did for them. It was maddening.
At 75, and a recent survivor of cancer, he should have been comfortably retired. With alimony and debt, he is simply unable to do so. I am working hard to try to buy a house for us, but it is difficult.
My father is trying desperately to get all of us girls together again, but there is too much damage there. I hope we can get over it someday, but it doesn't seem likely right now.
Dad has apologized many times for his part in our abuse, but he was a victim himself. I no longer blame him in the slightest. We are all slowly opening up to him. I hope he is able to repair relationships before he passes.
This woman slowly, methodically, tortured an entire family over decades; all for money. She hurt even her own children to get her "nest egg".
She can now "retire" from her life of leisure to enjoy even more leisure. When her money runs out, she has 2 sons who are doctors who will support her. She clamped on to the first nice, rich guy she could find so she could abuse him, his children, and her children, while enjoying fine things, reputation, and relaxation.
This sociopath is the REAL evil step-mother. She got away with it, too. The system protected her.
I only wonder who she will torture now...
About the Creator
Guenneth Speldrong
Hello there. I write things. Sometimes good things. Mostly, I write to find myself. If I can entertain you in the process, then that's just the derivative icing on the proverbial cake!
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