Child Abuse Story From Emily
by Emily
(Houston, Texas, USA)
Ever since I was young, my mother has been a constant threat to me. I've always been terrified of her, yet defiant at the same time.
Now, my dad used to be worse than he is now. He often spanked me with his belt, and I remember one particular incident where he dragged me up the stairs and made me sit on the bed while he reached into his closet for his belt. I just broke down in tears, begging him, "Please, Daddy! I promise, I won't do it again! Please, no!" Something flashed in his eyes, and he put away his belt and told me to go play. That was the last time he'd hurt me. I was probably about 4 then.
My mom, on the other hand, is crazy. She and my dad had a very strange relationship. My dad is always sarcastic and criticizing her, and I honestly don't know how my mom can stand it. He is a bit selfish and is very opinionated. I believe that's where most of my mom's stress comes from. They fight constantly over stupid things like where to eat for dinner.
My mom also abused me a bit when I was little. There's this little yellow comb...it still gives me the chills just thinking about it...that she used to fix my hair. If I ever squirmed while she was doing my hair, she would slap me on the butt with it. Now, it wasn't ungodly painful, but it was a little bit of a sting. Sometimes, if she was in a really bad mood, she would practically rip the comb through my hair as she got the tangles out. She'd hit me with a couple other things too, like a hair straightener (not turned on), hairspray, etc. I also used to have this rocking chair that I would have to sit in in my room whenever I was bad. Once when I was about 2 or 3 she sent me upstairs for doing something bad and I had to sit there the whole day. My sister came and snuck some mac-n-cheese for me to eat, but I eventually got bored. So I took out a book and started to read it. Well, my mom came in, found me reading, and pushed me out of the chair. I fell and somehow my fingers got stuck under the chair. I still have a scar there, but I don't really remember the incident. My older sister had to tell me it. Another strange punishment my mom forced upon me was, around 8 years old, she got mad at me for something and told me that I wasn't allowed to take showers anymore, I now had to take baths like a little baby. I then took baths up until I was about 10, because she was always getting mad at me for something.
When I was about 9, I really wanted to take dance lessons. So, my best friend and I began taking classes at a private dance studio until we were 11. My friend then joined the school dance team, while I decided to join the private dance team. I wasn't very good, to be honest, and everyone knew it, but I just loved dancing and I needed some way to feel...accepted, I guess, so I kept trying. My mom constantly threatened to take me out because I didn't want to practice doing my splits at night, or because I didn't like fixing my hair a certain way. I was always being criticized because I wasn't as good as the other girls. She never came and told me that I did a good job after a dance at a competition. She only told me things like, "your leap was awful" or "you weren't smiling at all". 6th and 7th grades were really hard for me, because that's when the main emotional abuse started. Once, in 6th grade, I thought I left my cell phone at a restaurant. So my mom and I drove there to see if we could find it, but we couldn't. All the rest of the way home she ranted about how ungrateful and irresponsible I was. She told me that I was pathetic and all I wanted was sympathy from everyone else. I supposedly only wanted attention. Then she slapped me across the face and left me there in the car. Later I found my phone under my bed, for it had fallen.
Once she threw a magazine at me and shouted, "Find a hairstyle in here that you like, but it has to be short. Tomorrow I'm taking you to the salon to get your hair cut off." I cried and cried until she finally agreed to let me keep my hair. This was when I was about 11 or 12.
I quit dance when I didn't make my high school dance team (and my best friend did), and again the emotional abuse sky rocketed from there. I knew she hated me because I wasn't like my older sister, who was on the dance team all 3 years in high school (you couldn't be on it freshman year) and was great. She made pretty good grades and was popular. Teachers loved her. She was gorgeous and could sing like an angel. I was always so jealous of her. I knew my mom wished that she'd never had me, although she'd never admitted it (YET). All I wanted was to make her proud.
Now I'm 15 years old, still living with my parents and my older sister (who is almost 22). I've been called fat (indirectly), unappreciative, bratty, rude, moody, stupid, etc. I'm tired of this abuse. I'm doing well in school, but not as well as I could be doing. I'm too tired and angry to do anything anymore. My friends are talking about me behind my back (well, that's just what I presume is going on, because they do it to everyone else) about how moody and lazy I am. I'm in choir (and I have been since 6th grade) and my mom now wants me to take voice lessons to whip my voice into shape before a competition coming up. I'm too insecure, unconfident, and shy in general to sing by myself in front of anyone, and my mom HATES it because she thinks I'm just putting on a poor-me act. SHE'S the one that made me that way, too unconfident to do anything, so it's HER to blame, not me.
So all I'm doing in life is waiting for someone to notice. I feel like a pathetic loser and major wimp and an exaggerate. I just want someone to notice, to care enough to ask me if I'm okay, even if I'll lie and say yes. I'm slowly making my way through life and I really just need someone there for me. If I tell my friends anything, they'll probably think I'm just doing it for attention. All I want is someone to notice. I pray every night that someone will notice and I'll actually feel like I'm worthy of attention and love. But for now, I suffer in silence.
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