the more time I spend with kids in my husband's side of the family, the more I love these kids, the more deeply horrified I get about my own childhood- about what my mother did to me. about what she let my stepfather do to me. about how many times I was crying out as hard as I could for help, and didn't get it.
how the fuck, what kind of mental fucking gymnastics did she perform to make her capable of this kind of behavior??? how do you look at a child, your fucking child, and think, "yes, i can facilitate the sexual abuse of this minor for the right price." what the fuck.