by Valerie Preston

Created on: August 05, 2008

I remember when I was in college, over 40 years ago, reading a study which examined the implications of monkeys being raised on a surrogate cloth monkey mother, v.s. those raised on a wire monkey mother. Both groups showed dysfunctional behaviors, but those raised on the wire monkey displayed significantly more negative and anti-social behaviors. It would seem to be common sense, but it had to be proved, and it was. Every human being needs to be held and nurtured all through life, and the consequences of s child growing up without love can be devasting. I know from personal experience and I am old enough now to see how it affected my life.

I was horribly abused physically and emotionally on a daily, constant basis by one parent who hated me and made no bones about it. The other one was never around much and later admitted to turning a deaf ear to a report by the neighbor of a 6 hour beating I endured one night. Even when I met my grandparents some distance away I found them to be aloof when it came to showing love. No one ever hugged me, no one ever praised me, and I never heard any one of them say I love you. Although I fought and was determined to overcome my upbringing all through life, now, in my latter years, I have finally admitted to myself that I never learned to love. I am incapable of it. I never had any kids because I knew instinctively that I wouldn't be a good mother. I haven't had many friends because I was so withdrawn. I married into situations much like my childhood. And as far as I know, no one I have ever known has ever really loved me.

I have an enormous amount of compassion and empathy for others, for the outcasts like me, for the hungry and the hurt, and for the suffering of mankind. Cruelty to another is something I detest. I avoid movies that depict violence. I adore God, but as hard as I try to convince myself I cannot believe He actually loves me, only because I can't imagine being loved, and I used the words "I adore Him" because that's the best I can do. He was there for me from the beginning and He has been my strength to survive repeated pain in life, but as I look back, my life's story is pathetic. I know now it will never change. It's too late. I'll probably live to a very old age. When I imagine myself living another 40 years I feel now only resolution to somehow get by, by myself.

I've realized only too well that life is meaningless if you don't love, or if you never experience being loved. I wanted it desparately. I cried out

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