As a young girl, only she knew about her mother's double life. When she finally unpacked as an adult, it was a shock to her siblings – but for her a liberation I was just a kid, ten, twelve years old. Usually my mother was still at work at the time, as was my stepfather. But now she was there and she was not alone. A man was with her, an acquaintance, I knew him briefly. But why did she have those hectic spots on her neck? She touched my shoulder: “That's our secret, right?” I was irritated, could not figure out the strange encounter. Sex, affairs, of which I had only a very vague idea. I forgot the incident, or did I rather oust it? It was as though my mother had put a mysterious, disturbing object in my hand that I put in a drawer and never brought it out again. 1012 1000 Today I know it was the beginning of a long story. My mother was separated from our biological father and had been living with Martin for three years. But she apparently had other men. The fact that I did not say anything at the time, that she did not even ask me why I should not reveal anything, was in keeping with the culture of silence that prevailed in our family. Nobody criticized our mother and she never talked about feelings. 1009 10094814 the words are missing. And that, although I have been earning my money writing texts for many years. Five, six years later, the situation repeated itself, and this time it was clearer to me. I came home from school and met a stranger who just came out of our bath freshly showered. That the two just had sex, was obvious. Today, it almost seems to me she was anxious for me to catch her again. As if she had wanted to put me in the place of the newly blossoming teenager: do not imagine anything, the desirable woman in the house is still me! Anyway, she renewed the vow of silence: "Do not tell the others!"
For our siblings our mother was a saint I studied, started working and built my own life. When I had a friend, I was always faithful. But I was also merciless when someone did not keep their promises – in relationships and friendships. Delays and even minor unreliability, I acknowledged with a powerful rage. Why was it so bubbling out of me while I was so stubbornly silent to my mother and brothers and sisters? It almost feels like the silence has accumulated and been looking for another valve. My mother betrayed Martin until his death two years ago.
10094814 In the meantime, both had rented a holiday apartment in Turkey. While my stepfather commuted, she lived there almost non-stop and built a new circle of friends. One of them, Mehmet, became a real buddy for Martin – and my mother's new lover. Martin and Mehmet slapped each other's shoulders, drank Efes beer, and wandered the markets. At some point Martin even invited him to Germany. Tickets, trips, he paid everything for his Turkish friend. “Do you think there's going on between Mama and Mehmet?”, Tanja once asked me. I denied it, albeit timidly. Maria never asked. For her, our mother was a saint. “She sacrificed everything for us, made everything possible,” she enthused. I could have screamed but did not dare. 1006 My biggest fear came true
Over the years, I got on better with Martin. That put me in an even bigger predicament. Should I continue to stand idly by the way she cheated on him – or should I ruin his life? Once he addressed me directly to it, as before Tanja. Again, I denied everything. Meanwhile my mother's parallel relationship has been going on for seven years. Only a few weeks later he died. Shortly after the funeral, my mother and I had a fight. We sat at breakfast with my sisters. Suddenly, I saw red. And so it burst out of me: “You have been cheating on Martin for years with Mehmet, do not tell me what's right or wrong.” Suddenly it was quiet. “You're lying! Mommy would never do that,” Maria yelled at me. Tanya did not say anything. “Get out of here!” My mother ordered. 1010 For weeks I heard nothing from my family. My biggest fear had come true: they punished me for telling the truth. About three months later, Tanja called me. “I want to end the radio silence, but let's put the topic aside, please.” I wanted so much to talk to her, to know if she really was so clueless – but she was walling. Today I have contact with my sisters again, but he also has a price: keep silent. I also see my mother sporadically. But since I've outed them, I only feel a cold mist between us. Was it worth it? I think so. For at last I gave her back that weird thing that was still in my drawer. And made room for things that are good for me. 1010 Would you like to read more about the topic and talk about it with other women? Then check out the “Personality Forum” 1008 BRIGITTE community past!
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