Some of my earliest memories are riddled with domestic violence between my parents. In either kindergarten, 1st, or 2nd grade, I remember my mom and dad getting into a physical fight or hearing them argue about one another possibly being unfaithful. Or their other favorite subject; my dad using thing car to go get high. It was so toxic.
This particular day, they had got into it at my aunt’s house. As my mom and I left, I rode in the front seat and had my arm out of the window. My dad was outside, chasing the car on my side, yelling at my mom to stop I’d imagine. Next thing that I know, my arm is being yanked backwards. He knew if nothing else would get my mom to stop dead in her tracks, he knew it was messing with her children.
It was official. In that moment, he’d sacrificed the well-being of his child for his own selfish need to have control over someone. And I was soon to learn that this would be a regular occurrence throughout my childhood. I don’t know if I ever got an apology for that situation but I’m sure that it was the beginning of my daddy issues and trust issue too.
If you’ve read this far, THANK YOU! I believe this will a page in my book “The Road to Self-Love”