Childhood lost
I was 6 years old the first time I saw my mother being abused. My father was screaming at her, calling her names, telling her how she was a nothing woman who was lucky to have him. Even at that young age, I knew that what I was seeing was wrong. But I was taught that parents are to be respected and never spoken to inappropriately no matter what, so I just went and sat in my room with my sister and pretended not to hear anything.
By the time I was 8, my mother had left him, but things just got worse and worse from there. He threw fits. Screamed and screamed that my mother was being a selfish bitch, that she had no right to leave him. He threatened suicide. When that didn’t work, he threatened to come after us instead. I can remember being this little kid sleeping on the floor of my mothers bedroom. Me, my sister and my mom all huddled together on the floor, trying to stay out of harms way by not sleeping exposed to a window. Next he came to the house and stole all of our clothes. He knew that by including my sister and I in his games that he was creating the ultimate torture for my Mom. The easiest way to hurt her is to hurt us. It went on like this for nearly a year.
Eventually he moved on. He realized that he was not going to be returning to our home no matter how hard he tried or what he threatened. But the damage remained.
I have never been able to forgive his actions. The words he used will be branded into my soul for the rest of my lifetime.
Because of him I do not have the ability to trust men, despite the fact that I have an extremely good and loyal boyfriend.
Because of him, I feel like I lost a part of my childhood that I will never get back.
My mother deserved better. My sister and I deserved better.
I’m glad that my mother was able to escape the relationship without losing her life or causing the end of someone else’s… I just wish that everyone could be so lucky.
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