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Chapter 1
My Black Man – My Weakness

(Astrid E. 41 years old. Stockholm-Skarpnäck)


I will never know the reasons why my mother had to get married to my stepfather. I never knew my biological father, and my mother never ever wanted to talk about him. But my stepfather I knew all too well. He was the meanest person I’d ever met, and the mistreatment that he subjected me to since I was only five years old, inflicted wounds that still pain me severely even today. My hatred for him was so acute that at night I often dreamt of killing him. Even though both my stepfather and mother are dead now, I still feel hurt and feel hatred curdling inside of me when I think of that cruel man.

While I was growing up in Dalarna, I was never a very sociable person due to the constant anger that welled up inside of me as a result of my stepfather’s abuse. Above all, it was difficult for me to look at my peers, other girls in their beautiful dresses and flattering make-up always. They looked so gorgeous, while I always looked so pitiful: forever self-conscious about the bruises and swollen lips I could not hide from the beatings I had to endure at home.

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