My family was in reality poor. But my parents did not want others to know it and maintained an appearance of being rich. We, the children, also had to keep up the show. Because we did not have sufficient clothes we washed and ironed the clothes almost daily so that we could go to class with clean clothes and give the appearance of being rich.
When 1 was about four years old I was sexually abused by someone very close to me.
Sometimes, my mother would speak ill of my father, in the hearing of all of us, the children. I did not like my mother doing that.
I could not share any of these with anyone else. I felt that if I were to do that I would be betraying my family. Later, when 1 joined the seminary, I felt that if I shared this with my superiors I would be sent away.