During my childhood I’ve always been over protective of my Family. Especially my mother and baby brother out of three siblings…the older two was selfish and self absorbed. Short and to the point…never before told until now. Welcome to my Childhood Life.
Holding back the tears is more painful than just letting them fall, it feels like a rush of chlorine water going up your nose as your drowning. In 1984 at the tender age of nine I witnesssed my father abusing my mother in front of her children. The impact from his fist turned her head, as her head turned I seen the blood from her nose sling across the kitchen. I’m waiting for the oldest two children to do something for our mother, but they only stood there watching as if they were stuck.
I felt so compelled to intervene on my mothers behalf, that when he raised his hand to strike again; I leaped up grabbing his arm bringing it down. That’s when he done the unthinkable to me, he slung me off his arm; and now all his focus was on me. I hit the floor hard…but I couldn’t allow him to hit my mother anymore and I didn’t want him to think I was weak either. So as my heart of strength told me to get back up, this coward in the image of my father took his foot to my rear end forcing my body back on the floor.
This unfamiliar coward man before me was daring a child to get up…even at that moment my siblings did nothing to help and my mother in the corner by the stove wouldn’t move to defend her daughter. This coward stood over me with this to say,” If you ever get out of a child’s place again, what was intended for your mother will be taken out on you.” As I sit here today it cross my mind as to why the complelling feeling came over me to intervene when I did.
That day in 1984 broke all Authority Figures…meaning I had no respect for anyone that showed Authority over me. I still can’t believe that a parent could kick their child in the rear end and feel no remorse, he never in all my years ever apologized for his actions towards me. This man was the first man that abused me mentally, and he was hell bound on breaking me to be the weakest link. I stand here a strong woman today…however I sometimes hold the tears back to the point it still feels like chlorine burning my nose. Because the fear of these tears might just be my breaking point.
Who’s Protecting me if I’ve always had it in me to do the protecting? I’ve always felt as if I was alone, when my life has never been shielded from the pain of abuse. I’m still fighting, still crying, still protecting, and still surviving for now.
Published in: Family