My mother never laid a hand on me. She didn’t strike me; it was my father who frequently lashed out with his brown leather belt. I never viewed him as an abuser, though he was undoubtedly angry and temperamental. He was simply a product of the parenting norms of the ’80s. It wasn’t until I began therapy in the summer of 2020, shortly after my mother’s death, that the weight of my traumatic past came crashing down. I found myself paralyzed by nightmares and flashbacks, finally understanding that I had endured mental, physical, and emotional abuse from both my parents. My childhood was marked by manipulation, exploitation, and neglect.
I had always known my upbringing was far from typical. I was born in Florida in 1984 into what appeared to be a “good” family. I had a mother, father, brother, and a dog, and we resided in a gated community with an eight-foot privacy fence and an above-ground pool. From the outside, everything seemed perfect. However, a shift occurred between my fifth and sixth birthdays, the nature of which remains unclear to me. One day I was a carefree, singing child, and the next I was weighed down by a heavy silence.
For years, from age six to thirty-six, I was consumed by this silence, molded by an environment devoid of respect, care, and love. You might wonder how I could recognize the abuse despite not recalling all the specifics. Trauma often obscures details; that’s the nature of PTSD. While I may not remember every event, the feelings associated with those memories remain. They are dark spots, moments I unintentionally repressed.
But I know I was abused. I may not recall the first instance, but I have vivid memories of being hit and belittled. I was called names like “stupid” and “worthless,” and once I was labeled a “mistake.” There are memories of being photographed in vulnerable situations and being encouraged to undress. And that belt—it was a constant reminder of my father’s anger.
I am not alone in this experience. Statistics show that 1 in 7 children in the U.S. will experience child abuse each year. Many mistakenly believe abuse is solely physical, involving broken bones or bruises, but neglect is the most prevalent form of abuse, followed by physical, sexual, and psychological abuse. Like many, I endured multiple forms: my father’s physical beatings contrasted with my mother’s emotional manipulation and neglect, especially after my father passed. At twelve, I was left to fend for myself while facing verbal and emotional attacks, which stunted my emotional development.
Today, I grapple with feelings of inadequacy and a deep need for approval. I struggle to feel safe around others; their touch often makes me recoil and feel anxious. But I am on a path of healing. I am working closely with a psychologist and psychiatrist to reclaim my body and mind. Soon, I will collaborate with a trauma specialist to use EMDR therapy to help me move beyond my past. Daily affirmations remind me that I am enough, even when I don’t fully believe it yet. As my psychologist emphasizes, our brains absorb the words we tell ourselves.
Despite the challenges this year has brought, I refuse to see myself as merely a victim. Instead, I embrace my identity as a survivor, determined to overcome the differences in my life.
For further insights on the journey of healing and self-empowerment, check out this other blog post, which delves into similar experiences. If you’re seeking advice on fertility and home insemination, this resource is invaluable. Additionally, WebMD offers excellent information on pregnancy and home insemination.
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In summary, my journey from victimhood to survival has been arduous but transformative. Through therapy and self-affirmation, I am reclaiming my narrative and embracing my strength.
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