It
is Day 4 of Domestic Violence Awareness Month. “Marian” shares her
story of horrific abuse at the hands of her mother. Marian wasn’t her
mother’s only victim. Her mother also brutalized her father.
By If I could draw my mother on a paper, would I split her into two
people. One would be happy, joyful, and kind, while the other would be
angry, harsh, and cruel, with the figure rotating at a mere minutes’
notice.
When I was five years of age, I had a bad habit of slamming the car door hard . Mom would tell me from time to time to stop until one day she made me stick out my hand for her. She slapped it so hard that it was red for about ten minutes afterward.
At age eight, I developed a case of the chicken pox. My mother insisted on taking me with her for errands. She actually stuck me in the daycare center at the YMCA, despite my having a contagious disease! I told the daycare worker that I was sick with chicken pox, and my mother had to come retrieve me. She yelled at me in the car for not keeping quiet about it until we arrived at the mall. While there, we bumped into my grandmother. My grandmother, outraged, threatened to take full custody of me on the spot if my mother did not take me home to rest.
During my seventeenth year, my mother’s parents and brother passed away, and her temper, as a result, worsened. When I couldn’t find a date for prom, she called me a fat loser, and slapped me so hard that she split my lip. My father told me not to tell my grandparents about it, despite the fact that I nearly broke down in front of my grandmother over it. Mom would notice my lip from time to time while I was applying makeup, and comment on it, asking me what I did to “mess up my face.”
By If I could draw my mother on a paper, would I split her into two
people. One would be happy, joyful, and kind, while the other would be
angry, harsh, and cruel, with the figure rotating at a mere minutes’
notice.When I was five years of age, I had a bad habit of slamming the car door hard . Mom would tell me from time to time to stop until one day she made me stick out my hand for her. She slapped it so hard that it was red for about ten minutes afterward.
At age eight, I developed a case of the chicken pox. My mother insisted on taking me with her for errands. She actually stuck me in the daycare center at the YMCA, despite my having a contagious disease! I told the daycare worker that I was sick with chicken pox, and my mother had to come retrieve me. She yelled at me in the car for not keeping quiet about it until we arrived at the mall. While there, we bumped into my grandmother. My grandmother, outraged, threatened to take full custody of me on the spot if my mother did not take me home to rest.
During my seventeenth year, my mother’s parents and brother passed away, and her temper, as a result, worsened. When I couldn’t find a date for prom, she called me a fat loser, and slapped me so hard that she split my lip. My father told me not to tell my grandparents about it, despite the fact that I nearly broke down in front of my grandmother over it. Mom would notice my lip from time to time while I was applying makeup, and comment on it, asking me what I did to “mess up my face.”
