You’re stupid, that’s what my mother always said to me growing up. Stupid, like an idiot, like a person that can’t do anything? Is that what you mean? I would think to myself. This was not a rare occurrence but on a daily basis. She wanted me to believe it and it pissed her off that I would not give in.

One morning I walked into our kitchen and she yelled at me “You stupid slut!” She didn’t like the jeans I had on. So she proceeds to berate me and walk toward me. I’m 12 years old and have not hit her back until this day.
She comes over and grabs my hair and starts yelling and yelling while hitting me and pushing me. I snapped and hit her right in the head. Like lightning out of nowhere in comes my step-father who is 6’2″ and 220 and he hits me right in the mouth. Busting up my entire mouth since I had braces at the time. Blood all over my face.
Think about it, a grown man hitting a 90-pound 12 years old girl with a mouth full of braces. I’m not sure I said a word the whole time, just let it play out like the other times only today was the first time he hit me.
I walked to my room and by lunch, I was black and blue. Of course, I couldn’t go to school because the teachers would see the damage, and our storybook life would end. My step-father came home from work with a hamburger for lunch and I couldn’t eat. What the hell was he thinking!

I was able to go to school three days later and still had visible marks around my mouth. I acted like nothing was wrong until 5th grade. My music teacher called me into the hall and asked what happened to my mouth. I said the door hit me, she was insistent that I go see the School Counselor. I told her that I would not go talk to anyone and she stood me down in that hallway until I went to the counselor’s office.
Walking through the door, I said I had to call my granny first. I had never told them my mother was abusing me. So I wanted her to know that I was in trouble. She would know what that meant for me. More beatings. She had her suspicions but never could pin down anything concrete
The next day Child Protective Services show up at school and I get called out of class. Now it was going to get very ugly and I would be on the losing end.
I told them everything that happened and that he hitting me was commonplace. I answered their questions as they filed out the forms and that was it. Until one day after school two women show up at our house. Now it’s really going to get ugly.
They come in and my mother is so calm and cool. She ask them why they were there and what the problem was. My life took a dive for the worst and I thought it couldn’t get any worse. My mother proceeds to tell them that I’m mentally unstable and that she is in the process of having me committed to the state hospital. They leave completely satisfied while I wait in my room. She had lied to them right out the door.
After my step-father hit me what could she do to make it hurt worst? Kill me? She knocked me around the room and set off a chain of events. Not long after that fateful day, I get permission to live with my dad who was 50 miles away. I pack up a few belongings, told my brother goodbye, and off in silence we went.
What happens after moving in with my dad is Part Two. Stay tuned.
Melinda
I really feel for you. It takes great strength to survive this.
You are a strong one indeed! 🙂
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Strong headed for sure! No, I got lucky and had my grandparents to save me.
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It still takes strength to survive such an extreme childhood… never underestimate or sell yourself short, but I understand giving your grandparents their kudos 🙂
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No, your right. I took a lot of knocks and it did a lot of damage to my self-esteem and mental health. I had no childhood and was screwed up in so many ways. Therapy has made the world of difference to me, I’m still in therapy, and trying to help others means the most right now.
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I’m not good at compliments.
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I’m not either believe it or not 🙂
It’s great that your taking the time to work on yourself
I found your post to be very powerful but also inspiring for me to open up about my past in hopes of my own healing
I have no doubt that you will slowly heal as you continue on that journey
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I”m now 58 years old, so I’ve been in therapy for 30 years. That is a game changer. All that baggages just melts alway over time. I can now write these type of post and not feel the pain that I did in the past. I cut my mother out of my life and my father died 30 years ago so I don’t have to deal with either toxic parent.
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It’s good to cut out toxic influences, and it sounds like you are already doing really good!
That’s a lot of progress to make; I feel like I have a long ways to go, cause when I write I still feel the pain… my mother was cut out over a decade ago when I moved to GA but she died in 2019 so I might still be grieving.
We all probably have different timelines to heal and process
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My dad sexually abused me and when he committed suicide it was hard. So many mixed emotions. Wanting to be a kid and remember the good times. You haven’t had time to process your grief let alone the emotions that go with the relationship if any.
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You definitely had some really harsh abuse. I can’t even begin to imagine.
No one should ever have to experience that. Ever.
I understand the mixed emotions. I wish I could go back and be a kid, just with a different family. I don’t have any good times to remember with mine, only with my grandparents.
If that’s true then I don’t know how to process it much less let it go… I feel stuck, and I am in therapy
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I had to take the few good memories I had and hold on to them. Then move on to the good memories with my grandparents and others I met. It takes a long time.
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You’re a brave strong woman Melinda. Well done for getting through those early years and being strong enough to talk about your experiences
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Thank you for the kind words. God, luck, and grandparents got me thru.
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Thank you for sharing this, Melinda. You are a miracle. I’m glad you had people who cared about you.
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My grandparents saved me or I would not be here for sure.
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You responded well to their nurturing and loving care.
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Oh! This is awful , life…. No people can be so cruel 💜
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Yes, they can. it’s a miracle I’m alive!
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You are so brave 💜
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I had God and my grandparents, along with a few select others along the way.
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Thank goodness for that 💜💜💜🦋
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