Saturday, 10 September 2011

Fredy Verdin - The Day My Father Was Going To Shoot Me For Being Gay

Today's guest blogger is Mr Fredy Verdin. Fredy has a blog relating his experiences of Childhood Sexual Abuse at http://piscesdreamer-survivingchildabuse.blogspot.com/



Fredy is a "good" man, someone who tries to bring joy to others, someone who wants to make a difference in this often cold and hostile world.

I am proud to have come to know him. He is an amazing human, an incredible man, who also is trying to make sense of it all...

Proof that out of the darkness can come light.

You can also follow him on Twitter @Piscesdreamer1

FREDY VERDIN

This is my coming out story.  Well, I never formally came out to my Parents.  My Parents actually found out, and these are the events that transpired following their discovery.
I had just turned fourteen; I was a “normal” teenager just like the rest except that I had being carrying a big secret my whole young life.   I was Gay.

I knew I was different from a very young age; My Father would remind me every day since the age of five that I was “different”.   He would beat and ridicule me anytime he felt that I was “acting” or talking like a girl.  I grew up afraid of my own Father and endured many beatings at his hands.  Dad never knew that I had been sexually abused at the age of three by family members and by a school teacher when I was in kindergarten.  The molestations continued up until the age of seven.  I never told my Parents anything.  I was terrified of my Father.



The story begins on a Saturday afternoon.  My Mom and Dad were in my room during their weekly inspection of my closets and dresser.   My Father was a very controlling man and was very strict.  The room searches had been going on since I have used of my memory.  This time though, their weekly search would turn my life into a living “hell”.

My best friend on the block that lived next door to us had an uncle.  His name was Raul.  Raul was in his early twenties from what I can recall.  I had a silly kid’s crush on him.  I never acted on it.  I would just sit in my room and write poems and love letters dedicated to him.  I would dream that he would love me back and would rescue me from my Father and the beatings I endured.  I wanted a way out so bad that I used to sit in my room and day dream about different scenarios on how to escape.   This was just another one of those dreams.

Dad found my notebook under my mattress and read everything.  Both my Mother and Father called me into my room and started to scream and cry.  My Father kept screaming in my face how disappointed and angry he was in me.  He kept on slapping me and kicking me over and over.  It seemed like an eternity.    I kept screaming for him to stop, but he wouldn’t stop.  I did not know what to do.  In a moment of rage I screamed at my Mother “It’s all your Brother’s fault!”  Then, my Dad stopped beating me.  This was the first time that I was telling them about the sexual abuse I had to endure at very young age and how their not being there had affected me so much.  This set my Father into a bigger rage.  He went to get his gun and told me he was going to kill me.  He said that he would rather have a dead Son than a Fagot.

 My Mother fought with him, but he was so angry he was not listening at all.  He then went up to the roof and threatened to kill himself.  He placed the gun to his head.  My Mother was hysterical and was blaming me for the whole incident.  My Father was ready to jump off the building.  I was so scared and felt so guilty that I had put my Parents through such shame and pain.
My Father decided that he would take matters into his own hands and called my Uncle to come to our house.  My life as I knew had turned into a bigger hell than the one I had been living since the age of three.  My Uncle denied the whole thing and told my Father that it was all my fault.  I was a Fagot and the whole block knew it and talked about it.  I couldn’t believe that the nightmare he (my Uncle) had made me live for years were suddenly my fault.  It made me question if everything I remembered was fake.  How could it be possible?  I knew it was true.  I felt so powerless yet again.  It was a feeling I knew too well.

The weeks and months that followed the incident were very tough on me.  My Parents stopped talking to me and they ignored me for like a month.  I was not allowed to go out by myself anymore.  Anytime I had to go do the grocery shopping for the house, I had to either take my eight year old brother or my youngest sister.  Both of whom I took care of like I was their Father.  In fact my sister’s first words were Fredy.   I have a special bond with both my siblings till this day.

My Father thought that in order for him to “fix” me he would send me to seminary school to become a priest.  He said that I was going to go to hell and that God was the only one that could help him.  He said him, because Dad’s biggest concern was always what others would think and say about him.  He was more concerned with his reputation than in my well being.
I was enrolled in seminary school at the age of fourteen.  I was the best student and got good grades.  I prayed everyday to God for him to change me.  I would cry in my room at night asking God why I had to be Gay.   I had been beaten and ridiculed my whole life by my Father and the kids in the neighborhood; I did not want to have these feelings anymore.  I tried and tried.  I prayed and prayed, but nothing would change.  I was so confused I had (have) so much faith in God I couldn’t understand why God was not listening to me.

Then finally one day I decided to accept the fact the God did love me and that I had been born this way.  I felt that all the pain that I suffered was meant to be so I could help other kids with similar struggles.  If my story and all the hardships can help change just ONE person’s life, than my life has had purpose and I’m closer to achieving my mission in life.
It took me years to come to terms with it, but please know if you are reading this, that anything is possible and once we conquered our feelings and thought on how we see ourselves, life will change for the better.  I now know this.






Fredy Verdin   PiscesDreamer

16 comments:

SumofMind said...

Very touching article! Look what you turned in to, a beautiful human being! You are a real survivor!

Anonymous said...

I never had the courage you have shown And left it to late to tell my parents. thank you for the share you brave Human being ;o) XXX

Derrick Michael said...

Thank you for coming out in spite of the difficulties you had to indure. Peace my brother

Welshcakes Limoncello said...

Goodness, what a traumatic and terrifying experience. I agree that you have become a beautiful human being.

Patricia Singleton said...

Thank you Fredy for having the courage to share your experiences and the conclusions you have reached.

jeffssong said...

We aren't sorry that you grew up to be who you were meant to be, but we do feel for you in regards to what you had to endure to get there. Your story is proof of something I've been saying: people FEAR too much about what others might think about them - and in your case, to the point of abusing a kid just to avoid 'rumors' that *might* impinge on their social standing. A cruel and selfish thing, that. We are glad that you made it 'out', got 'out', and are 'out', for surely life has some beauty now . .

and you're right. God does love you; loves everyone . . . and you were forgiven before you were ever born . . . cuz' God's all about diversity ... including diversity in human beings.

Love life, live life, be happy <-that's our wish for you. Forever. :)

ttaylorz1 said...

I came across your blog. You are a beautiful soul. Thank you for being in the world.

Anonymous said...

Thank you for your courage and heart. The world is a more beautiful place because of you, taking the horror of what you went through and using it in such a positive helpful way for others. You are what a human being should be.
Bless you!

triciagirl62 said...

Your story and your survival is such an act of bravery. Thank you for sharing this with us and know that we are ALWAYS forgiven for the torture we endure at the hands of another. Blessings my friend, your courage to share is a gift to be admired. thank you

Eddie's Wor!d said...

i love you babe! you are so strong!
love, edwina

Melinda Chapman said...

Fredy, it's sad that your father couldn't be as brave as you. His fear stopped him from seeing what a great human being he helped bring into this world.
I'm sure you will help change many lives for the better, not just out of your experience but from how you dealt with it.

Louise Sorensen said...

You sufferd a hell of a childhood, Fredy. No one deserves that. I have said that gay people are god's final test of humanity. Love thy neighbour, imo means accept people the way they are. You have done so well in healing from the unjust hurts inflicted on a little child who did nothing to deserve it. Good for you! You are an inspiration to me. <3

myraysoflight said...

This was so touching...hard to read. I think you are so brave for sharing this most intimate part of yourself.

My GMA used to constantly remind me that "You alone are enough". It's a shame that your father made the situation about him, instead of trying to help you cope, acknowledge and accept the wonderful person that you so obviously are.

Peace and blessings to you,

L.M. Young

Sara Vita said...

Fredy I was looking for you on FB to learn a little more about the newest member of my team and I found this..... I am sure that we have made the right decision in you. Your story makes me see the reason I was so drawn to you. You are a beautiful person inside and out, and I could see that the moment I shook your hand. Welcome to our family, I look forward to learning so much more about you and having you become one of us :) see you Monday!

Anonymous said...

Fredy I am glad that u r still around. I had a cousin that was abused along with his brother. I don't know if sexual abuse took place but I do know they were abused. My cousin RUSTY had been diagnosed with AID's, his father wich is my uncle disowned his own son, called him everything in the book even when my cousin was on his death bed his father turned him away. My sister opened her door and took care of him till the end. I just don't understand the lack of human compassion. RUSTY his brother and I played together as kids when I would visit my grandmother house. Rusty was a very nice young man and the world will never know him. Keep your head up and know u r loved. :) Packleader66

Anonymous said...

I am very proud of you for telling this painful story to help all of us thank you and love to you and hugs ..

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