It took me three decades to label my childhood experiences as abuse. Even now, I occasionally revisit the definition of “emotional abuse,” analyzing it repeatedly, questioning whether I truly have the right to identify my past in that way. According to the Mayo Clinic, “Emotional child abuse refers to harming a child’s self-esteem or emotional health. It encompasses verbal and emotional attacks, such as incessantly belittling a child, as well as isolating, ignoring, or rejecting them.”
My brother and I faced all of these forms of abuse at the hands of our stepmother, who came into our lives when I was nine and my brother was four. We were typical children—messy, emotional, and in need of reassurance. Yet, she struggled with the realities of parenting and responded with hostility instead.
Her tirades were relentless. She hurled insults, ridiculed us, and often stormed out, leaving us anxious about when she would return. Household items became weapons in her hands—dishes and laundry baskets were thrown in our direction, and she would threaten us with sleeping in the car or being sent away. Our need for affection was openly mocked, and she frequently criticized our mother for being too nurturing.
Perhaps the most painful aspect was my father’s inability to protect us. Though he occasionally intervened, he often found himself caught in the middle, trying to appease both us and her. He would tell us to give her a chance, that her behavior was a result of her own struggles. But as children, we needed more than explanations; we craved safety. The cycle of anger and verbal abuse created a hostile environment, one where we longed for our father—the one we thought should love us unconditionally—to stand up for us.
When I was a teenager, my mother moved us 2,000 miles away, making visits less frequent. However, when we did go back, the same patterns emerged. Even as an adult, the tension remained. My husband witnessed her abusive behavior, and though it was painful to observe, it validated my experiences.
Years later, when I brought my own children to visit, I hoped for change. While she exhibited better behavior, the underlying rage was always present, occasionally surfacing in front of them. Thankfully, it was directed at me, but it served as a painful reminder of my childhood trauma.
As a teen, I developed a panic disorder, initially manifesting as an intense fear of flying—a fear tied to those visits. Over the years, I experienced recurring panic attacks, often triggered by the thought of returning to that toxic environment. For a long time, I viewed these attacks as random occurrences rather than recognizing their connection to my upbringing. Although anxiety is somewhat hereditary in my family, I now understand that my panic attacks began when the abuse started.
This realization was profound. By recognizing the link between my childhood trauma and my anxiety, I realized I couldn’t continue the relationship with my stepmother and father in its current state. Approaching my forties, I was a mother of three with a supportive husband, yet my relationship with them remained a source of distress.
I find myself constantly revisiting the definitions of abuse, sometimes believing them and other times doubting my own experiences. This self-doubt is a part of the cycle of abuse, a result of the gaslighting that leaves victims questioning their reality. The labels my abuser placed on me—”crazy,” “loser,” “attention-seeker”—still linger in my mind, allowing the abuse to maintain its grip.
Navigating my relationship with my father and stepmother is challenging. Despite her mistreatment, I still love my dad and am hesitant to sever ties completely. However, I know I cannot continue to expose myself to an abusive atmosphere. The scars of emotional abuse are lasting; they may always be a part of me. But I refuse to define myself solely as a victim. I am a survivor, stronger than I realize. If you have faced similar emotional abuse, remember that you too possess that strength.
For more insights into emotional well-being and recovery from abuse, consider checking out this excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination: Resolve. If you’re interested in your options for becoming a parent, Make a Mom offers valuable information.
Summary:
I shared my journey of overcoming emotional abuse experienced in childhood, detailing the effects it had on my mental health and relationships. Despite the pain, I embraced my identity as a survivor, understanding that healing is a continuous process.