I was the golden child in the interracial poster-family. Everything was perfect about our family.
I’ve been my own family since I was 12, that’s when the abuse got worse. Put the dishes in the wrong place, you were slapped, punched. If mom didn’t have her pills I’d just sit and wait to hear those stomping feet approach my room. We had always been well off but little did my father know, while he was working or with his mistress “mom” was at home abusing us.
I resented him and fell into the trap of the world’s greatest manipulator. Despite my first life, as you can imagine, every time I stepped out of the house I lived again, my second life at school was perfect. March 28, 2009 was the last day I was physically abused, and the day I was abused the worst. Pushed down the stairs, beaten repeatedly with any object you can think of. Told I was just a child support check with the paychecks that I brought in with my 3 jobs (I lied on my workers permit).
The police came that day, the day I finally decided to speak up, and they did nothing. So I got it worse. That was also the only day I had ever missed a homework assignment, and that is the only reason why my teacher and savior knew that I was in trouble.
I owe everything to my education, it has always been the only thing supporting me and keeping me going. Sounds silly, but it’s true. It’s my constant. Almost 4 years removed, I am on my own still. Dad is paying my way through college out of guilt. I am at the 4th best college in the nation and getting straight A’s on my way to law school. Seems like I’ve lived 25 years, but being 19 I know that I will never actually feel my age because I must be parent and child all in one. I’m ok with that, I am an awesome person. But it is still hard, and I understand it will be forever. Each day I have to remind myself that I am worth something and deserve only good things, but must cope with the fact that any time I want someone to hold me, it’s got to be me. I cry and rub my back, stroke my hair, wipe my tears. I love me, and that’s something I was never taught to do. It gets better, but I can’t lie, it gets harder.
I appreciate my experience with abuse because I wouldn’t be the amazing person I have become and am still figuring out today. I’ve got amazing friends and soccer team. And that’s enough for me because it’s abuse free.