From the Inside Looking Out

By M.J. Henry

About the Book
An autobiographic account of her youth, M.J. Henry’s From the Inside Looking Out offers a first-hand view of life in the poor, rural south. She knew early in her life that her family was totally dysfunctional. They were not normal and did not live like other people lived. For most of her life, she has lived under the misconception that if you don't talk about it, it will go away or maybe it isn't true. They were very poor and didn’t know how poor they were until they were older and could see how other people lived. Being poor and dysfunctional are two totally different things. Many people were and still are poor, and that is no shame. It's only shameful when you don't do all you are capable of to overcome it.
Verbal and mental abuse have no limits. As an adult, M.J. was having nightmares and horrible dreams about her childhood. She’d heard and experienced that if you put things on paper that it would change the whole perspective in one way or another. She had been praying long before daylight for God to give her some answer for what she should do and how to deal with the future. Later that morning, the inspiration came to her that she should write a book about her life. She felt that she owed it to herself, her children, and grandchildren and all of the others who whispered behind our backs, and to those who were involved in some way.
Once M.J. poured out her heart and soul on paper, the dreams stopped!

About the Author
M.J. Henry grew up in rural Mississippi in the mid-1940s. Early in her life, they had no electricity, running water, or inside plumbing.
While she wasn’t all that interested in school, M.J. did graduate from high school. She’s enjoyed two fulfilling jobs each lasting almost 20 years each. She’s worked as a sales manager for a manufacturing company, which gave her the opportunity to travel to many military bases. Her other role was a consolidations supervisor for a student loan company.
The most successful, fulfilling job she’s ever had however is being a mother to two amazing children, who have graced her with three precious grand-children and one great grandchild.
M.J. currently lives in Mississippi. This is her first published book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dorrance Publishing Company
• Release date: May 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9781685377045

Book preview

Dedication

To my angel, my mother.

To my children and grandchildren

And to all the victims that were affected

whether they were aware or not

With the trials, tribulations, shootings, unnecessary killings, looting, rioting, domestic violence, and the overdue focus on mental illness, we are in the middle of the biggest test of our lives. My heart is very heavy and sad. I have asked myself many times how much more we will be allowed to do to ourselves and our fellow man before a higher power says, that’s enough.

I knew early in my life that my family was totally dysfunctional. We were not normal and did not live like other people lived. For most of my life, I have lived under the misconception that if you don’t talk about it, it will go away or maybe it isn’t true. We were very poor and did not know how poor we were until we were older and could see how other people lived. Being poor and dysfunctional are two totally different things. Many people were and still are poor and that is no shame. It’s only shameful when you don’t do all you are capable of to overcome it.

Verbal and mental abuse have no limits. If we could pick our poison, I would pick physical abuse over verbal and mental any day of the week. Your wounds would either heal or you die and it’s over. Either way, all the scars never go away!

Some people would be too prideful or ashamed to expose their dirty laundry! Maybe I should be, and if I were not the oldest one of my immediate family still living, I might wait longer. But I owe it to the survivors to share my story with them while I can. Our laundry was not only dirty; it was also contaminated! Our secrets were darker than the blackest of night. Verbal abuse and child abuse cast a shadow the length of a lifetime.

I am in my 75th year on this earth and I never believed in my lifetime that I would see things that are happening today. I thought that because the horrors of my past were behind me and that my sister and I had escaped them and had made normal lives for our children, that things would be okay.

Old people (not including me, of course) used to talk about the good old days. I don’t exactly know when or what the good old days were about. I did not know if we were living in the good old days, had they come and gone, or if they were yet to come. I only know that I have been troubled deeply to the point of having dreams and nightmares, about people and things that I have encountered or crossed paths with. Recently, as I have done countless times before, I was talking to God, and I asked him to guide me and tell me what I needed to do with the rest of my life. I was so confused and did not understand why, after all this time, I was living my life again.

Later that day, I got my answer. Many times, in my life as I recalled events from the past, I have often commented that I could or should write a book. That was my answer! I realized that it was the perfect time and that I owed it to myself, my children, and future generations of my family to expand their knowledge of my past.

My sister had several stories published before her death. She kept them light and factional. She had also written a book about her life that she was very skeptical about having published because of its contents and repercussions it might cause. Her story should have been told, so I am telling hers and mine. I feel it is very important to be totally factional and honest. Once I decided to write my story, I knew that I had to be totally committed. Otherwise, I would have accomplished nothing.

My life has been a mixture of love, pain, pleasure, confusion, threats, survival, fun, and fantasy, anger and many other emotions. It was the best of times and the worst of times. It’s very hard to know where to start. I could write a thousand pages and feel certain that I would leave something out. I am sure that our problems started generations ago and not having been there to witness it, I can only start with what I know.

From a child’s eyes, the world looks different. You think everything is good and that your parents will always be there to protect you and love you. Nothing is going to hurt you and if it should, they will be there to love your hurt away. Right? Not in all cases.

 My daddy once told me that he did not want but one kid and then I came along. I never felt wanted and never felt that they had any expectation of me one way or the other. I often wondered if my mama had been raped by a family member and it was another secret lurking over us. I was always loved by my mama although she wasn’t allowed to show it or express it the way she would have liked. Daddy was jealous of any attention paid to anyone other than himself.

My parents were obsessed with my sister, and I guess they were just worn out and had put everything they had into her. My grandparents loved me and had lots of time for me and me for them. The apple doesn’t fall from the tree. History does repeat itself; my sister and I married to get away from home, just like mama did.

Mama loved us unconditionally and deeply. We lived about seven miles from mama’s parents. She did not get to see her parents often or do for them because Daddy was in control and was so resentful to my grandparents. He would take mama to see them maybe once a month. I think this was the time that I realized anything that I could do to help them; would be helping Mama. I think that is when it was instilled in my brain that I had a purpose. Later, it became obvious and evident to me that my lot in life was to help people that could not do for themselves. I wanted to help by doing things that didn’t involve money; just love and compassion and God in Heaven knew how I needed that. My grandparents had been very good to me, and it was time to return the favor! I just had to get old enough to drive and get away from home so I would be free to do it.

Introduction to the Main Players and

Characters involved. I call them Victims!

Daddy - an average man in statue who worked extremely hard on the farm. He loved money and he loved to read. He was very troubled and possessed by demons that totally consumed him and he was highly temperamental. He was a homosexual man with a split personality that today would be considered bi-polar. He was trying to live a normal straight life with a wife and children. He could be as good as he wanted to be or as bad as he wanted to be!

My daddy was doomed from the start. He was born to parents who struggled also. We farmed on halves with Papaw. In other words, we lived in a shack, had revenue from half of two or three bales of cotton a year, and if we were lucky on a good year, we might make four bales. I think that Papaw knew we’d never survive on our own, so he conjured up the partnership. Daddy had a few jobs at the country store and on the peddling truck. He had sticky fingers, so those jobs did not last long.

 My daddy had an older brother and a younger sister. When he was five years old, he and his brother were throwing rocks in the air and one came down, hit daddy in the eye, and he had to have his eye removed. And that automatically labeled him, in his mama’s eyes, sickly! The beginning of many problems!

With only one eye and being a little sickly and some peculiar ways, it was a perfect match. He learned how to cook, wash clothes, helped his mama pick out her clothes, and all the things that made him a perfect companion for her. He was very temperamental and allowed to have his fits until he got what he wanted. It appeared that as Daddy aged into his teen years, it was necessary for him to have a buddy or best friend. We later realized the part that this person would play in Daddy’s life. Daddy chose friends he thought were compatible with him. If it proved they weren’t, either they or he would end the friendship. It became obvious over a period, what the qualifications were. His taste changed as he got older. The older he got, the younger the boys were!

Mama - was beautiful on the outside, but her inner beauty was unmeasurable. Meek and hardworking and never appreciated for what she gave. Totally unassuming in all respects. She was stripped of her independence early in life and because of her gentle spirit and kind soul, never challenged anything.

Mama was the nearest thing to a saint that God ever put on this earth. She was good to a fault, read her Bible, and lived by it. She thought till death do us part meant exactly that. My sister put it in perspective better than anyone else could. She said that she was grown before she realized that the neck and back of the chicken was not Mama’s favorite part. She made sure