The Naked Truth: The Real Story Behind the Real Housewife of New Jersey--In Her Own Words Read Online Free PDF Page B

was telling her about it because I finally got to the point where I
could
tell her and felt compelled to share. I had gone through rehab, counseling, and therapy. The sexual abuse from my childhood was one of the issues that I needed to confront and try to put to rest. Telling my mom about it was an important first step in that process.
    Immediately after I told my mother, she sat in a state of shock. For a few moments, she stared blankly and her skin became very pale. It seemed as though she wasn’t even exhaling. It wasn’t as if she didn’t believe me—she was in a state of total confusion.
How could I have not known about this? How could you have gone all of these years without telling me?
she must have thought. When she tried to stand, she actually fell to her knees on the kitchen floor. She was wiped out emotionally— exhausted from processing all of this in her head.

4
BILLY THE KID
    When I was thirteen years old, I began to notice boys. One that stood out from the rest was Peter, who was a few years older than me. I admired him from afar, gazing at him through a fence at our local playground. He was really cute—built well, with dark hair, big brown eyes, a great smile with perfect teeth, and dimples. All the girls in my school had a crush on Peter, and he always seemed to have a girlfriend. One after another wore his class ring, which was unique because it was pink amethyst (his birthstone).
    His array of female fans included popular cheerleaders who were rich, pretty, and came from perfect families—they were all the things I wasn’t. However, Peter and I eventually connected when he came to work for my father one summer doingodd jobs. We saw each other every day and became extremely close, and by summer’s end we were in love. My crush from afar became my boyfriend. The class ring that was once worn by so many girls I envied was now on
my
finger. It felt like a fairy tale. Peter was the first guy I had true feelings for. He was the first guy I experienced love with. He was my first willing sexual experience. He was my first everything.
    We got engaged when I was fifteen years old. After six months together, right before his senior prom, Peter gave me a diamond ring and asked me to marry him. I said yes, of course, and after our amazing summer together, Peter went off to a college that was four hours away. We wrote to each other often and I talked to him on the phone every night. I baked him chocolate chip cookies every Tuesday and mailed them to him on Wednesday. We were so much in love that it was sickening.
    Then, all of a sudden, I wasn’t in love anymore.
    Soon after Peter went away to college, I felt as if something was missing. I wanted to get out of the relationship with him, but didn’t know how. After all, he was my fiancé. I didn’t know how to end a relationship, so I did the only thing that I was taught up to that point. . . . I cheated on him by hooking up with my girlfriend’s brother. My father had cheated on my mother throughout my entire childhood, and cheating was my only reality. Children do learn what they live.
    When my father found out that I had cheated on Peter, he yelled at me. I was completely shocked that he had a problemwith it. “You didn’t teach me how to love,” I yelled at him. “You didn’t teach me what a normal relationship was supposed to feel like. You cheated on Mom while I babysat the children of your mistress! Now
you
have a problem with me cheating on Peter?”
    I eventually told Peter that I wasn’t interested in being with him anymore. He was devastated. Peter was still as in love with me as I had been with him in the sixth and seventh grade, when I’d gazed at him from afar and dreamed of what it would be like to call him mine. I broke up with Peter in the kitchen of my house and literally stepped over him as I walked out the front door. I will never forget the look on his face. I deeply hurt him. He was a good guy and didn’t deserve it. However, I