Growing up in a small southern town, I was surrounded by a culture that accepted spanking as a normal form of discipline. As a child, I understood that if I misbehaved, I’d either have to be crafty or face the consequences of choosing my own switch. I didn’t often find myself in trouble, but the few instances I did are etched in my memory. I vividly recall the long walk to my room, the fear bubbling in my stomach, stuffing my pajamas with washcloths, and desperately covering my bottom with my hands, hoping for a last-minute pardon. Those memories still make me feel uneasy.
It wasn’t until I became a mother that I truly reflected on the effects of spanking. The first night home with my newborn son, I held him in my arms, feeling the weight of his vulnerability. In that moment, I was overwhelmed by the responsibility of parenthood. Through tears, I whispered a promise to him: “Mommy will never lay a hand on you.”
Three years later, I found myself spanking him for the first time. It was an impulsive reaction when he dashed into the street. I remember the shock on his face—confusion, anger, and a sense of betrayal. I rationalized my actions, thinking this was what parents were supposed to do—tough love, even when it felt wrong. I had heard the saying, “This hurts me more than it hurts you,” often enough to convince myself that I was acting in his best interest.
However, rather than improving his behavior, spanking seemed to exacerbate it. One day, my son struck his little sister, and I was horrified. In frustration, I scolded him, “We do NOT hit in this family!” To my dismay, he looked at me with tears in his eyes and shouted, “But Mommy, you hit me!” His words pierced my heart, and I realized the hypocrisy of my actions. That moment marked a turning point for me, as I began to grapple with the realization that what I considered discipline was, in fact, harmful.
Later that evening, my partner, Jake, and I had a deep conversation. Both raised in households that practiced spanking, we had unintentionally carried it into our parenting. After discussing our feelings, we acknowledged that we both viewed it as abusive and were determined to change our approach. We spent the night researching the long-term effects of various disciplinary methods, discovering a wealth of evidence indicating that spanking is not only ineffective but detrimental to children’s development. This information was hard to digest, especially since I had believed such actions were justified by my upbringing.
That night, I came across an anonymous quote that resonated deeply with me: “Is the child old enough to understand reason? Yes? Then reason with them. No? Then they’re not old enough to understand why you’re spanking them.” It became clear to me that hitting my child never made sense; it was merely a learned behavior.
Jake and I agreed that it was time to break the cycle of physical punishment. Later, I tiptoed into my son’s room while he slept, still cherubic despite growing up. I whispered in his ear, “I promise you, son. Mommy will never lay a hand on you again.” This time, I meant it.
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In summary, my journey from using physical discipline to realizing its harmful effects has been transformative. By understanding the impact of my actions, I’ve committed to nurturing my children in a loving, respectful environment.