The Paua Palace

My royal blog, life, opinions and me, it’s all about ME.. Right?

Wicked Queens and child abuse

Posted by pauaprincess on April 24, 2007

Life at the Paua Palace has been a little hectic of late.  School holidays, crazy mothers, civil defence stuff. 

The crazy mother stuff is getting me down, I just took a spin down memory lane and it wasn’t that pleasant.  It all began just over a week ago at 7amish.  The phone rang, the Paua Prince was up getting ready for work and answered before I’d dragged my princess butt across the room.  Now it’s never good news when the phone rings that early so I stumbled up the hallway to meet the good prince halfway down with a bemused expression on his face.  Your mother just abused me, I hung up on her.

OK! I made my way to the family room, phone rings again so I pick it up.  It’s the wicked Queens boyfriend wanting to know why the Prince hung up on the Queen.  Ummm cos she abused him and I still don’t know why…. Turns out, she was bent out of shape because she rang the previous night while I was eating dinner, the princeling, son of the Princess and Prince, told the Queen that the Princess was eating dinner and asked that the Queen call back in say 10 mins.  Apparently, the princeling was rude, a brat in need of a good hiding.  So the merry go round spun and took me back in time.

My earliest memories are my mother telling me I was Daddy’s darling daughter.  She created her own monster, I was the eldest child, only girl and she convinced herself my father loved me more than her, she became jealous of her daughter.  When my father left, I became the focus, all the rage she couldn’t expel at him, came to me.  I was alternately a weapon to use against my father, to punish him for leaving her and the reason he didn’t love her enough.

She’d tell me all sorts of things to make me hate him, how his new girlfriend (destined to become my stepmother) had a daughter, so he didn’t need me anymore, how he hit her(not true, although I know he defended himself from her hitting him by wrestling her to the ground and sitting on her till she couldn’t hit anymore) how he hated us now he had a new family, that he was unfaithful.

She punished me, she abandoned her role as mother, leaving me to look after my younger brothers, she would grab my wrist and drag me, leaving cuts from her nails, all three of us have the semi circular scars from her nails, she hit me with a belt, broke a plate over my head, didn’t feed us or care for us.  How we survived, I’m not sure.

When I was 9, she kicked me out, told me I was an ungrateful little %$%&* and told me to go live with my father.  I phoned him and sobbing asked him to please, please come and get me.  He did.  He found me sitting on the doorstep on a March afternoon, all my stuff in rubbish bags.  A dirty, smelly, shell of the child I had once been.  He’d been trying so hard to get something done, calling social services, the neighbours called social services too, but she had him beat, it was the 70’s and kids stayed with the mother.

About a week after she kicked me out, she wanted me back, she realised who was doing all the work around the house, how she’d lost a third of her leverage and if Dad got custody, she’d loose a third of the child support.  She came to my Dad’s house demanding me back.  I was terrified I would have to go.  My father and his girlfriend told her no, they were reasonable, she wasn’t.  Eventually my Dad shut the door and told her to leave.  She ran around the house screaming and yelling obscenities, throwing things and trying to break in.  Dad called the police, hired a really great lawyer and got custody of me.

Life went on.  Through the years we had the battles, she’d ring and abuse us, hang up on us.  It was cyclic.  When my middle brother was 15 she kicked him out, he was her favorite, he was the middle child and she could relate to him.

When my youngest brother was 13, she went off again, suicide threats, the usual carryon.  Dad had had enough.  We talked, by then I was 19.  We put a plan together, I went to my youngest brother’s school, met him coming out at 3pm.  I asked him, do you want to come and live with us?  Is the Pope a Catholic was his response.  I took him home with me, Dad and I went to Mums, we took all his stuff, she called the Police, the Police let us take him.  She shouted at my little brother that the only reason she had him, was so Dad would stay with her, he was meant to be a girl, like me.  He’s never forgiven her.

And now, after approximately a 10 year hiatus, she gave up her “turns” not long after the Prince and I had the Princeling, although the tantrums following our engagement party and leading up to the wedding were legendary, she’s climbed back on the horse.

I’m not letting this affect another generation.  I refuse to allow my children to be abused. So she’s accusing me of using MY children as a weapon, depriving them of time with their Grandmother.  Hello Pot? The Kettle wants to introduce himself.

More as I get round to it.


2 Responses to “Wicked Queens and child abuse”

  1. bee said

    what a terrible thing to happen to any child. hugs to you, sweetie.

  2. Vinayak said


    thanks for that nice post. While we are on the subject, may I request you to ponder on the topic

    Is sex between minors OK?

    ….Up to 38.5 per cent children said friends or classmates had fondled them or touched their body parts …….. “Many children were also of the opinion that they may not have been in an abusive situation, giving credence (to the assumption) that it may have been consensual sexual activity,” the report says……

    more at


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