Chapter 1: Childhood in Motion
Metz: The Early Years
I was born in Metz, a peaceful city in Lorraine, where my life began amidst a tumultuous family environment. From a young age, I was exposed to traumatic events that left hazy yet persistent memories. The violence between my parents, the constant arguments, and the abuse by a relative of my mother marked my early years. My sisters often talked about the abuse, memories I preferred to bury deeply to protect myself.
Chapter 2: Moving: Nice and Fréjus
After the birth of my sister, we moved to several cities in the south of France, including Nice and Fréjus. These frequent moves made it difficult to feel any sense of stability or security. Each new house brought its own set of challenges and tensions. Home was a place of chaos. Memories of my father drawing and my mother making dolls coexisted with images of violent arguments and constant fear.
Chapter 3: Life in Roquebrune-sur-Argens
Settling in Roquebrune
We finally settled in Roquebrune-sur-Argens, a small village in Provence. My father often traveled to the United States, leaving my mother overwhelmed and alone with us, her children. In Roquebrune, the house remained chaotic, marked by domestic violence and financial difficulties.
I remember a rainy day when, driven by an irrational fear, I fled school to hide in a field. A little girl alone in the rain couldn’t stay hidden for long, but this event remains etched in my memory as a symbol of my constant need to escape and feel safe.
Chapter 4: Abuse by a Relative
A relative of my mother, who occasionally looked after us, sexually abused us. I don’t remember everything, and I think I will always doubt how it happened, but I rely on what my sisters told me. They confided that I didn’t speak of the abuse because he threatened to harm the younger ones if we said anything. These revelations added another layer of pain and confusion to my childhood memories.
Chapter 5: Fleeing to Corsica
Leaving for Corsica
My mother’s decision to leave Roquebrune-sur-Argens for Corsica marked a turning point. The small village of Curzo, our new home, was rustic, with no modern toilets or showers. Our lives were marked by poverty and loneliness, as our mother often had to be away for work. At the time, I was unaware of the nature of her job.
The Preacher of Curzo
In Curzo, a priest often visited my mother. He sometimes took us to spend Christmas with other families, as my mother was busy or working, I didn’t really know. My sisters later told me that this priest also had his own intentions with us, memories that added another layer of pain and betrayal to my childhood.
Boarding School in Ajaccio
We made daily bus trips to a boarding school in Ajaccio, in southern Corsica. These trips were long and tiring but also offered a temporary escape from our difficult reality in Curzo. The boarding school in Ajaccio provided a semblance of stability and normality but also highlighted the precariousness of our family situation.
Chapter 6: Abandonment and Life Under a Tent
Abandonment to the Child Protection Services
Barely eleven or twelve years old, I was separated from my family. My younger brother and sister, too young to remember much, were adopted by a family in Ajaccio. My two other sisters and I were placed in a dormitory filled with young girls and boys, each with their own often more terrible story.
Life in the Dormitory
Life in the dormitory was hard. We were surrounded by young people from very difficult backgrounds, each carrying their own wounds and traumas. The dormitory was a place of survival, where privacy was nonexistent and the strict rules of the institution replaced the warmth of a home. The nights were often the hardest, marked by muffled cries and the nightmares of the other children.
Absence of My Mother
During this period, we had no news of our mother. Her absence was painful, and we were constantly plagued by worry and longing. This forced separation and our mother’s silence added another layer of suffering to our already precarious situation. Every day was a struggle to maintain a semblance of normality and resilience in the face of our harsh new reality.
Chapter 7: Adolescence and Departure to Germany
Revelations about My Mother’s Work
During these years, I began to understand the true nature of my mother’s work. Whispers, glances, and half-spoken comments made me realize that my mother worked in nightclubs, a milieu often associated with prostitution. This realization ignited in me a fierce determination to break this cycle of degradation and build a better life.
Departure to Germany
At eighteen, I left Corsica for Germany, hoping to find a new life there. I married an American soldier, thinking he would be my ticket to a stable and secure existence. But this relationship quickly became abusive. The dream of freedom and security turned into a nightmare.
Every day was a struggle for my emotional and physical survival. The soldier who had promised to protect me became my tormentor. I endured violence, psychological manipulation, and constant abuse, but I held on to hope for the future, firmly believing that I deserved better than what life had given me so far.
In Germany, far from my Corsican roots and my sisters, I felt isolated and desperate. But this was only the beginning of my complex and arduous journey.
Chapter 8: The Struggle for My Children
My Marriage and Our Trip to Denmark
For our marriage, we decided to go to Denmark, to Nykøbing Falster, with another couple who were also getting married. Arriving at the hotel, my husband was already too drunk, and his behavior became worrying. The couple suggested celebrating by going to a nightclub for our last night as singles, but my husband became angry when I said I would like to go too. He took me back to the hotel room, and I spent a horrible night, barely sleeping. In the morning, we left to get married under his decision. I was scared, not understanding what was happening, still in shock. My dress was torn, and all I had left was a black lace dress to change into. That’s what I wore.
Chapter 9: A Birth and a Realization
Birth of My Son
My son was born on a military base, making him a U.S. citizen. At the time, I didn’t understand the importance of this nationality and the implications of the justice system regarding immigration. I was still trying to make my marriage work with my increasingly abusive husband. It’s a situation many women go through: you don’t leave the first time he becomes violent. It’s proven that a woman in this case returns at least seven times to her abuser before finally leaving, if she doesn’t lose her life before. This is not excusable, and I’m not trying to convince you, but understand that I was barely twenty, working at the post office and doing some modeling photos to boost fragile self-esteem.
The New Neighbor
One day, as I was saying goodbye to my husband from my son’s room, I noticed someone watching us from a window above. It was a black man, our new neighbor. Later, he knocked on my door, introducing himself and asking for sugar. I went to the kitchen, my son sleeping soundly in his crib, the bedroom door ajar. When I returned, he grabbed me, and the horror began.
Chapter 10: Fleeing to the United States
Arriving in the United States
My husband and I arrived in the United States, and his violence became even more unbearable. I was exhausted from numerous escape attempts. We first stayed at his mother’s house, but the abuse continued. One day, after he banged my head against a wall, I tried to flee through the back door, knocking on the neighbors’ door. They promised to call someone but ultimately let me return to my husband, saying they couldn’t intervene.
The Decision to Leave
In our own house, my two-year-old son saw me with a bloody face after being hit by my drunken husband. My second son, only a few months old, was in his crib. My eldest son started screaming and crying, and that’s when I decided to leave for good. I called the police and explained the situation. But they told me that if I had my husband arrested, I would be deported without my children, who were U.S. citizens.
The Ultimatum
Knowing that staying in the United States meant being separated from my children, I begged my husband to leave, promising not to press charges. I had to think of a solution to escape, but not without my sons.
Chapter 11: A Glimmer of Hope
Seeking Help
For months, I called every free helpline I could find, explaining my complicated situation. I was illegal with two young children and an increasingly unpredictable husband. He forbade me from sitting on the couch with him when we had guests. I had to stay in the kitchen or the bedrooms.
Christmas in the Dark
One Christmas, in a state of drunkenness, we spent the evening in the dark, my husband asleep in his chair with a chicken thigh still in his hand. No one was helping me. Then one day, an organization offered to help. Located in another state, volunteer lawyers coordinated our transfer, with a police officer picking us up with a small hastily packed bag, my boys, and we changed states and police.
Chapter 12: The Shelter House
A New Beginning
We arrived at a well-hidden house for battered women, filled with other women and children. For the first time, we felt a bit of freedom and security. Happiness was not yet certain for everyone, and for me, the situation was more complex as immigration still posed problems, rejecting all the lawyers’ requests.
Chapter 13: An Unexpected Proposal
Charlie Lynch
One day, a man named Charlie Lynch contacted the organization, offering to take me and my children on vacation to San Francisco. Charlie, a wealthy businessman in the cotton industry, was 70 years old. The women of the organization discussed with me, suggesting I go with him, while taking precautions and gathering all his information.
Chapter 14: Intentions Revealed
Arriving in San Francisco
In San Francisco, what was supposed to be a weekend getaway quickly became worrisome. Charlie had booked a suite for me and my two babies, but his room was connected to ours. From the moment we arrived, I found him too nice, too insistent.
A Plan to Escape
Sensing danger, I took advantage of the moment when Charlie returned to his room. I wet my son’s bed, left my other son in his crib, and lay down, feigning fatigue. I explained to Charlie that my son had to sleep with me because of the wet bed. He crouched down, passing his hand over my hip, trying to slide under the sheets. With a nervous laugh, I said, “Come on Charlie, I could be your daughter, and my children are here.” Embarrassed, he left me alone.
The Return
The next day, I asked him to take us back, remaining polite so as not to spoil what might be our last chance for help. Charlie had power, both financially and politically. He might be the solution.
Chapter 15: The Reality of Charlie
True Intentions
After meeting Charlie, I asked him how he knew about my situation. He replied, “I saw you leaving a store with your mixed-race child. You were pregnant, and I said to my secretary, ‘What is a pretty white girl like you doing with black children?’ Then I recognized your photo in the newspaper.”
Chapter 16: Hope and Disappointment
Return to Reality
Back home, I realized that despite appearances, Charlie didn’t have good intentions. The following days were marked by constant vigilance. The fear of falling back into a dangerous situation haunted me, but I was determined to protect my children at all costs.