Why I still love my mother, who did not protect me!

Why do I still love my mom? To be honest, I am shocked every time someone asks me or says “I’m surprised you still love her”… or … “and you still love her?” Why is it so shocking that I would still have love for my birth mother? I didn’t leave her because I hated her; I didn’t ever really leave her in my opinion. It’s even more shocking to me when people wonder why I still consider her my mother…. Someone was my mother for the first 15 years of my life. I wasn’t born an orphan. Someone raised me, someone kept me alive, and someone gave me these skills to do life. I had a whole life before I was adopted; a life that included a mother, and no matter what kind of mother that mom was, I would and will always have a great love for her. Isn’t that only natural? Wouldn’t it be more concerning if I did not have any love for her? BUT nope, the shock always comes that I do still have a lot of love for her.

So why do I still love her? Besides the fact that my heart and soul naturally carries a lot of love for everyone I meet, and strangers I see suffering. I was born to Heidi as her first child when she was a teenager, did you catch the TEENAGER part? So naturally, she still had a lot of growing up to do, but that did not matter to my younger self. I loved her so much! I looked up to her, I thought she was the most fun, most beautiful person in the world, and I felt so blessed that I would be growing up as her daughter. I wanted to look like her, I wanted to learn from her. We always bragged as kids how lucky we were that our mom played with us, because she did. She worked really hard, and when she was home we played a lot. Even when it came to Daniel’s family outings, my mom was one of the moms that was out there playing with us all. She was on the jet skis, she was on the tube being pulled, she was there with us having fun. She taught me how to prank call, taught us to jump out of the window onto a mattress (ghetto style trampoline); we had fun. She was not the mom that just sat in the chair and watched. In fact, I do a lot of my parenting the way she did – just minus the polygamy, the Daniel, and all the negativity that weighed on her. She taught me how to have fun with something as miserable as cleaning a house, she taught us how to laugh and enjoy life through something as miserable as polygamy. She taught us how to compartmentalize our life and shut that negative side out, so we can have a break from it. Maybe that wasn’t a good skill, and maybe it would be better if we did not live a life where we needed that skill, but for our life, for my life, that was a life skill that got me through so many hard times.

Heidi loved us in ways that she knew how to express. She didn’t directly tell us that she loved us or show much affection, but I knew she cared. I saw her try to provide for us, to care for us, and work with the limited resources she had in the Order. I was her first born child, and saw first-hand how life in the Order drained her. When I was much younger, I remember her being more affectionate, hugging us, showing love that way, but as I got older the affection was only given to the infants and toddlers. This could have also been due to the fact that after multiple children, how is a mom supposed to hug them all with life being so busy? I also noticed that slowly my mother did not like to be touched; I don’t know if it was because she was always pregnant and uncomfortable with morning sickness, or always had an infant, and needed a break from having kids in her and on her…. Or if it was something entirely different like a protective factor from abuse. I mean I know how Daniel treated me and my siblings; I saw him drag my mother around by her hair, so I could only imagine what my mother endured behind closed doors. However, again, I don’t know exactly the reason here. Anyways, there were times in my upbringing that I questioned whether she loved me, but now that I am a mother and have processed a large portion of my upbringing, I can see many moments where she expressed love in ways she knew how.

My earliest memories are while I was an infant-early toddler still being placed in a crib, when we lived in our windowless, basement, one-bedroom, warehouse apartment in the Dixon building (click here to read more about the building I was born). I have many memories at the Dixon building from the first 4 years of my life. Things like my mother holding me, hugging me, rocking me, and laying me on my favorite doll pillow. I remember walking in during the winter months, having to ride in the back of an industrial white van on the hard metal floor, but my mom trying her best to keep us safe with what she had. She would have us sit up against the front seat in the van and hand us blankets to keep warm. While we would make the trek through the dark warehouse garage she would talk to us in a pleasant voice to help us stay calm. She made me feel safe. I think even as the grown woman I am today, I would have a chill up my spine walking through the dark warehouse and those dark halls. Seriously, I saw my mother as fearless. I recall having Daniel sleep over at our apartment, and when he did we couldn’t sleep in our mom’s bed. The apartment had a walk-in closet with a small mattress in it that we slept on, until we got bunkbeds for the living room. I have many comforting memories during this time with my mom. I do remember being spanked a lot by Daniel, but I don’t recall being afraid of my mom in that way.

I remember the day we moved; us kids woke before my mom, and saw boxes lining one wall of the living room. We had no idea what it was. I don’t know how we communicated being so young, but we wondered if it was Christmas morning and started opening the boxes one-by-one, unwrapping the items faster and faster, holding all the new things up to show each other. It was magical, and I could not wait for my mom to see all the stuff that came in the night. I remember hearing her bedroom door open and turning around to see her figure in the doorway. Tears filled her eyes as she started to dart toward us telling us to stop, saying things like, “I worked all night.” She picked up items and started shoving them back into the boxes. I remember feeling confused, and feeling so bad that we had made her cry. I started looking around and realized that this stuff was already ours. I didn’t understand the concept that we were moving, but I do remember her calling reinforcements… sister-wife Laura Fuller (last name was decided to be Fuller when she “spiritually” married Daniel in a worldly ceremony as his 10^th wife). In this moment, I remember having fear to my core that getting Laura involved was going to warrant us a beating from Daniel, I still did not understand the significance of Daniel in our lives. I knew to the church and Order he was this great amazing guy, but I did not get why he came to our house. In fact, I was near the age of 6-7 years-old when I discovered he was my dad….. (click here to read about it in another post), but at the time we moved from the Dixon building I was only 4 years-old.

Now that I am a mother of young kids, I can only imagine what life was like for Heidi as this teen and young adult “single” mother, having one kid after another. I truly don’t know how a person lives that way and stays sane, especially without an emotional supportive husband, ok I mean especially with a person like Daniel for the father of your children. Looking back, I can see the difference in the mother she was when we were very young, and the mother she slowly became who checked out. I guess I would check out too if I was forced to see my children be abused, and couldn’t do anything about it. When I say checked out, I don’t mean she became this horrible mom, more like she stopped trying so hard to protect us and started telling us “well maybe you should just do what you’re supposed to”, things along those lines. She was also well known for her yelling, the neighbors could always hear her yelling at us, and I won’t lie she did lose her temper, but I wasn’t a perfect kid, and I am sure I was even a hard kid, I tried, but honestly, I was stubborn and rather mouthy. I think I actually got it from my mom and her side of the family, and now that I am a mother with a daughter who speaks her mind, I could only imagine how frazzling it was for Heidi, not to excuse her failure to protect us. But, yes it can be hard to know what to do as a mother, how to best handle situations, praying you are making the right choice, worrying…. I get that, I do all those things now too. I am by no means perfect, which maybe has helped me be so forgiving of Heidi’s short-comings. However, again, I never expected her to be perfect, I forgave her for all her short-comings, but I could not stay when she couldn’t protect us from Daniel, and she continuously taught us to tie into the Orders teachings that were harming us.

Of course, I don’t know exactly how hard of a kid I was, because from my memories I know that I did not intend to be malicious, intend to be hard, nor intend to cause problems. I just know that I was in trouble A LOT, and most of being in trouble happened at the sitters, church, and when Daniel was around. When I was about 6 or 7 years old, Daniel came and told me that I was no longer worthy to live with my mom, and he had me pack my things and moved me into another wife’s home. I remember crying over this, I cried every second I was alone; I felt so alone, and so worried that I would never have my family back. To be honest, I felt I had a pretty normal childhood up to this point, being told I was unworthy to live with my mother, and everything I went through at this time was very psychologically damaging for me. This had a huge effect on my sense of self and worth for many years of my life. During this time I was kicked out, then I wasn’t allowed to go to my mom’s house. I was “banned”, which became a theme for me throughout my childhood to be “banned” from places. I could only see my mother and siblings at church, family events, or if they came to the other wife’s home that I was at. Recalling this still brings me to tears. My now-self wants to go back and hug that little girl so tight to tell her that she is loved and that I am fighting for her.

I worked so hard to earn my way back home. I did everything Daniel asked of me, I longed to live with my family again. I don’t know how long I was kicked out, but I remember that I had completely changed my behaviors. I was afraid to even open my own fridge without permission. In fact, shortly after I was worthy to move back home, Daniel spent the night at our home and I worked so hard to impress him with all my new behavior.  I was using all my polite words, I was so proud of myself because we ended the night going to bed with no one getting spanked. I was finally the good example, big sister, that I was supposed to be, and I was determined to be a good kid worthy of living there. I woke in the middle of the night needing to use the restroom, and with the new rules, I needed permission to go. I almost just went, but I remembered Daniel was there, and he would hear me break the rules. So I went into my mother’s room and quietly whispered “mom, Daniel”. It was dark, so I did not know who was on the side of the bed I was standing, I heard my mom reply. Her voice sounded further away so I was realizing I was on the side with Daniel, and I responded “I need to go to the bathroom”. Before she could respond, Daniel grabbed me by the hair, held my head up like he had always done, and slapped me multiple times, then very sternly told me to go back to bed and not get up till morning. I tried to cry out and tell him that I just need to go to the bathroom, but that just got me more slaps, and again he was very clear that I was to go straight to bed. I laid in my bed sobbing, so scared this meant I would lose my place in the home again, so scared that if I fell asleep I would accidentally pee the bed. I tried so hard to stay awake, while cupping my hot cheeks from where I was slapped. I woke that morning in a puddle of my own urine, Heidi was quietly trying to help me take off my bright pink pajama sweats. I saw her making quick glances to the bedroom door, and she kept her voice really low, asked me “why didn’t you just go to the bathroom”, I replied, “but Daniel said go straight to bed”, she said “you should have just gone”. I talked to her about how I was worried he would hear me, and she told me next time to just quietly go – don’t flush the toilet, don’t turn the light on, and then get back in bed as quietly as I can.

I could see the pain in my mother’s eyes as she looked at my face, I don’t know if it was the bruises, the bright pink sweats covered in urine, the dried teared puffy eyes, or what part of my image that caused her to grimace while looking at me. In this moment, I knew she still loved me, and she was gonna try to help me stay living in her home. She was helping me hide this from Daniel, I don’t know what she feared he would do, and honestly, I don’t know what he would have done had he walked in and caught us. We both knew he was very unpredictable. Throughout my life I continued to have many tender moments like this with Heidi, where I could see that she was trying to protect me in the way that she knew how.

So many little life skills that only poor people really needed to know, like jumping in dumpsters at the grocery stores to get their “freshly” outdated food. I saw her bank statements when I was little, I knew she was over $40 thousand dollars in debt to the Order, I saw her work from sun up to sun down, I saw her try to provide for us. She used the resources she had available; we got WIC, food stamps, and when that wasn’t enough she would plead with Daniel or the office lady for more money to pay our bills, not that she would always get the money… It was common to have the power go out, the phone get shut off, even the water got turned off. I would watch my mother stress and try every little thing she could to try to provide for us, but she also tried to keep us from worrying. One bitter cold winter night, when our power was shut off, she helped us layer our warmest pajamas on. I remember being so cold that my bones felt like ice inside my body. She had all us little kids climb in the same bed, there was probably 4 or 5 of us kids at the time. I was scared that the lights did not work, but my mother’s voice was soothing as she was layering every blanket we owned over our shivering bodies. She spoke softly, telling us to think of the warmest day we could remember, she told us to stay close to each other because our bodies would heat up more together, she continued to speak, and what I remember most is that feeling of calm come over me, feeling loved by her, feeling cared for, and at some point, my body went from shivering to a restful state of sleeping. There are so many little moments like this throughout my childhood that I know Heidi loved me, and whether she did or didn’t it truly doesn’t matter because I love her.

I love that even though she was forced to quit her schooling, married at 15 years-old, became a mother at 16 years-old only to have kids every 1-2 years after that, she was still trying to be a good mom to us. I was able to recognize that she too was afraid of Daniel; I saw how she would lose her voice, lose her power, her strength, and slowly her identity as Daniel was around. I got a front-row seat to Heidi’s life. I was her daughter, in the back seat watching her cry, I saw her try to do life, I saw her try, I saw how frustrating it was for her to engage in “sister-wife” drama, I saw her change when Daniel came around. I saw the mom I loved and adored when we were at my grandma’s house. Her smile would literally bring me joy. I still have the image of her smile and face when she was all lit up with excitement and joy, it’s a comforting image in my mind that I hold on to for peace about the reality of how our life turned out.

Even though I loved my mom, I would fight with her often; some of it was your typical mother-daughter frustrations, some I didn’t know how to regulate my emotions and deal with the life we were in, other reasons were the lack of my mother to be able to be there for 8+ kids… and most of it, which she probably doesn’t even know, was wanting her to stand up and protect us. I knew she was strong, I knew she was smart, but when Daniel would come and hurt another kid, I would lose respect for her. I would be so angry with her, I wanted her to know how it felt to be betrayed by her.  I was angry, I would fight with her, and I honestly did not even know how to express what was going on in my life. I never told my mom of the sexual abuse I endured at the babysitters’. In fact, I just started sending the kids away one-by-one with the other moms when they would come to get their kids because I wanted to protect my siblings. My behaviors always looked bad to her and the other grown-ups, but they did not know what was happening to me, they did not know I was trying so hard to protect myself and siblings. I learned to hide to get away from sexual abuse and physical punishments, and this carried into my home life. There’s so many things my mom did not know we were going through, but I did not know how to tell her. I also felt she had a lot to worry about, and that it was on me to figure out how to make it stop.

I took on the role of worrying about my mother, partly because I saw her lose her power around Daniel, but I worried about her all the time. Our lives were chaotic, my mother’s life had so many moving parts, and here I was just a child, and I had so much going on too, but being together centered me. I loved so many of the tender moments we shared, where she would let me pick out her clothes that she wore for the day, even though she probably always knew which one was my favorite, I loved singing along to the songs from the radio with her, she felt like my best friend. I truly thought she was the most beautiful person in the world! I have often since wondered if this is how all young daughters feel about their mothers, even though they don’t know how to express it.

When I was 8 years-old I watched my mother get arrested, the police were handing us stuffed animals and blankets trying to distract us, but I felt frozen holding my hands out watching them put her in the police car. I knew she was going to jail, and I worried I would never see her again. In that moment, my heart was shattering, I felt so much shame, I wanted to save her. I knew it was my fault because I called the police on the babysitter, who was hurting my sibling, and my mother was out on a date with Daniel, I believe. The police came to a disaster home, with a 10 year-old sitter for 6 children, including an infant. The next time we saw my mother she hugged us so tight, and I knew there was love. There’s a lot more to this story, but we ended up on the run hiding in Daniel’s other wife’s homes, one after another. I learned to fear the police, to fear the social workers, I learned how to lie, and mostly, I was so afraid to be separated from my mother, my siblings, and lose my family. We moved to Washakie to hide until the police found us and put us in foster care. My parents were never arrested for technically “kidnapping” us, and we were eventually returned home after about 5 months in foster care.

Every day I longed to be returned to my mother, I worried about her, worried about who was taking care of her, I knew it pained her to have her children taken. There was 6 of us kids at the time, and we were split up, the 3 older in one home, the 3 younger in another. My heart was in pain missing my younger siblings and my mother, so I could only imagine what this was doing to her. When we were returned home in March 1997, we stayed living at Washakie. This became a bitter sweet time in our lives, we were separated from the extended family that we loved so much, being a 2-hour drive away, but we were also separated from the random pop-ins from Daniel. We knew that when he came, it was for the short stay and that it would be awhile before we saw him again. This was a place where we kids truly ran wild, and it really was just us and our mom. I saw her determined to go back to school and get her diploma, I saw her strong personality start to shine through again. She would laugh, have fun, she was fun to be around, I saw her take manager roles at the ranch, and I saw that she was listened to in the daily meetings. I swear that if it weren’t for polygamy and the oppression it encompasses, she would be a very strong advocate for humanity and women’s empowerment.

Heidi showed me how to do life, how to figure out when I was safe, when I wasn’t, when I could be myself, when I needed to assume the ‘submissive girl in polygamy’ role. If Daniel ever reads this I could see him punishing her over this, and I was so hesitant to write this, so hesitant to share the truth as I knew it. The truth that she would get after us kids when we told Daniel on each other, she would help us figure out how to prevent beatings and punishments. She would quietly help us throw away the rotten food and milk, she wouldn’t force the nasty food and comfrey down our throats like she was supposed to. She taught us how to be independent, she taught us to think for ourselves, and she taught us how to think outside the box.

Being a mother myself, which you may see me say this a lot, but seriously, now that I am a mother, I can see how many days, and how many times Heidi showed up, and did her best with what she had. She helped us have a sense of a normal childhood in the midst of polygamy. We got traditions, we celebrated holidays, education was important to her, she helped us succeed academically, she showed up to our school plays and school activities, she was juggling it all. Even with my three kids now, I feel overwhelmed by their schedules and activities, sicknesses, being pulled in so many life directions, but then I remember that Heidi showed up in my childhood, so I need to show up for my kids – no excuses. Heidi even made Christmas and Easter happen, I don’t know how my mom stayed on top of this every year for all of us kids. I knew my mother never could have afforded the gifts we received. I knew that these items were not even available at the Order stores we were required to shop. Even when I saw Heidi wrap the presents, or I snuck in her closet and peaked, I still believed in Santa Claus because it was a true miracle that our tree was filled with presents every Christmas morning. I know she would apply for the charity programs to provide Christmas for us, but she stayed on top of it year after year, she worked hard to be the single mom she was forced to be.

I can’t tell you exactly why I still love her so much, but I do. Sometimes I wonder if it really is because of the front-row seat I had to the pain and suffering she endured. Is it because she is my mother and it’s natural to love her? But then I truly don’t love Daniel, by any means….. Is it because I knew she loved me? I really couldn’t tell you exactly why I still love her, but hopefully reading this gives you some insights into my relationship with her. She has a beautiful soul, in fact, I think I am actually a lot like her in so many ways, if she was actually able to be her true self. Lately, I have looked in the mirror and often seen my mother, at least how I remember her from my childhood. I know she is not the same person, I know that polygamy has affected her, and I have seen the change in her, but I will still always love her for the mother she was in my childhood.

It was hard to come to the place where I could openly speak about her failure to protect us as children because I loved her so much. I never, never want to hurt her because I know that she has enough pain in her life. But, I came to a point that I needed to see her as the grown woman she is now, picking that life, and not as the 15 year-old victim who was forced into it. I believe she loves me too, but truly I would rather her take any love she has for me and give it to her kids who are still in the Order. Being adopted, I have a mom and a family, I have so much love in my life now. Not that I don’t need Heidi’s love, I am just saying, I know there is not more than enough to go around in the Order, like there is in my life now. My love for Heidi isn’t looking for anything in return, it is an unconditional love that I give to her no matter what. I love her because I want her to know that someone in this world will always love her. I love her because she is my birth-mother, my child-hood mother, and a very important person to me. I love her because without her in my childhood, I think I would have taken my own life. I love her because she deserves to be loved, and I will always love her no matter where this journey of life takes us both. So polygamy may have destroyed our family, and keeps us apart, but I will always love her even if it is from a distance.