I grew up in a seemingly idyllic setting. My mother never laid a hand on me, and while my father often struck me with his brown leather belt, I didn’t perceive him as an abuser. He seemed just like any typical parent of the ’80s, filled with anger and mood swings, but nothing out of the ordinary for that era. However, everything changed when I began therapy in the summer of 2020, shortly after my mother passed away. It was then that the floodgates opened, and I was overwhelmed by traumatic memories, nightmares, and flashbacks. I finally recognized the truth: I was a victim of mental, physical, and emotional abuse at the hands of my parents. My childhood was filled with manipulation, exploitation, and neglect.
I always knew my upbringing was different, but I had convinced myself that some aspects were normal. Born in Florida in 1984, I had the picture-perfect family—two parents, a brother, and a dog, living in a gated community with an above-ground pool. However, between my fifth and sixth birthdays, something shifted. Though I can’t pinpoint the exact nature of that change, I remember the transition from carefree childhood to a life where I felt perpetually silenced.
For years, from age six until I turned 36, I lived in a state of emotional paralysis. The environment I was raised in stripped away my self-worth. You might wonder how I can assert I was abused without recalling specific details. The reality of trauma is such; it often manifests as PTSD, obscuring the finer points of memory while leaving behind feelings and sensations.
Despite the haziness of some details, I can recall significant moments from my childhood. I remember being hit, being called names, and feeling like a burden. I was once labeled a mistake. I can recall being posed naked for photos in the pool and the bathtub, and I was often encouraged to “strip down.” And then there was that relentless belt.
I’m not alone in my experiences. Statistics indicate that 1 in 7 children in the U.S. will experience some form of child abuse each year. Many equate abuse with physical violence—broken bones and bruises—but neglect is the most prevalent form of abuse, followed by physical, sexual, and psychological abuse. In my case, I endured various forms; my father was physically abusive, while my mother employed manipulation and neglect. After my father’s death, I was left to fend for myself at 12, enduring constant verbal and emotional attacks.
The impact on me has been profound. Emotionally, I feel stunted, constantly seeking approval, love, and validation. My mental state is trapped in a cycle of self-doubt, haunted by voices that echo the sentiments of my past. Physically, I often feel unsafe, uncomfortable with touch, and overwhelmed with anxiety.
The silver lining is my ongoing journey of healing. I am actively working with a psychologist and psychiatrist to reclaim my sense of self and rewrite my narrative. Soon, I will start therapy with a specialist focused on trauma, using EMDR techniques to help move forward. Every day, I affirm my worth, even in moments of disbelief. As my psychologist reminds me, the mind registers the affirmations I speak. Though this year has been tough, filled with reliving past traumas, I do not identify as a victim. I see myself as a thriver. My life’s challenges have shaped me, but I am determined to rise above them.
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Summary:
This article narrates a survivor’s journey through childhood abuse, detailing the long-lasting effects of neglect, emotional manipulation, and physical violence experienced in a seemingly normal family environment. Through therapy and self-affirmation, the individual is reclaiming their narrative and striving for healing and growth.