Originally posted in 2022
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 daily. 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, and blood all over my face.
Think about it, a grown man hitting a 90-pound 12-year-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 my music teacher called me into the hall and asked what happened to my mouth. I said the door hit me, and 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 counselor’s 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 showed up at school and I got called out of class for extensive questioning. Now it was going to get very ugly and I would be on the losing end.
I told them everything that happened and that hitting me was commonplace. I answered their questions as they filled out the forms and that was it. Until one day after school, two women showed up at our house. Now it’s really going to get ugly.
They come in and my mother is so calm and cool. She asked 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 proceeded to tell them that I was mentally unstable and that she was in the process of having me committed to the State Mental 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 worse? Kill me? She knocked me around the room and set off a chain of events. Not long after that fateful day, I got permission to live with my dad who was 50 miles away. I packed up a few belongings, told my brother goodbye, and off in silence I went.
I bought this Warhol years ago, it hangs in my office and it’s a positive reinforcement.
Melinda
lookingforthelight.blog 