bodyBeing born in the 90s has at least taught me one thing, the world out there is very close to your family. growing up with little or no internet meant it’s the family that represents members of society for me. my mother represented all women and my father represented all men.
I believed it stronger as I grew up. due to my father’s job, we had to live in many states. I was a shy girl and making friends wasn’t easy. I was feeling very uncomfortable socializing for many reasons that I habituated from my parents. this is how the world out there remained a secret.
number one reason was my illness, I was having a lung infection since birth, and fighting it was a huge battle. but almost no one at school or friends cared about me. in fact, they didn’t like to be around me thinking it was contagious. to this day, I feel uncomfortable talking about my health condition with others.
I was becoming more and more alone, even at home. no one actually cared why I never heal, I was just given some over-the-counter medicine that hardly worked. why? all because my father never cared about it!
I cannot ever forgive my dad for not giving a single fuck about me! I remember the times when my symptoms used to get worse, I was barely conscious. burning in fever or coughing like crazy but still looking for him if he’s around me, but he never did.
He was never there and he made sure my only hope — my brother wouldn’t do so. my brother hated me because he was jealous because he thought I stole his show. but I didn’t, I never wanted to.
I had an abusive brother and a more abusive father. the important part is, my brother used to dump his anger toward our father on me. it felt like torture.
I was gradually finding my own way to tolerate them. I had to escape into another dimension, another reality. so I let them be as abusive as they want and just ignore it.
“It’s just how men are, they’re all the same” I used to say to myself. I believed all men are created just like them and nothing makes a difference. I was only a child and had no clue what to do. my mother was very loving but she never helped me with male issues. I always wished she was a little bit more responsible to help me. I shouldn’t be the one paying for her wrong choice of spouse!
Anyways, everything changed when I entered school. I used to hear my classmates talking about how their fathers prepared breakfast for them, how they played with their fathers, go to the park together, etc.
Wait a minute! how come I never had that?! I didn’t even know if it was legal to imagine that! my luckiest day at home was the day my father wouldn’t beat us or scream at us. so that’s all I asked for.
The day I figured out what fathers actually do, everything I believed was gone. I felt like I’d been lied to, there are good men out there and I was living with the worst of them! and this made me hate my father and brother even more!
I was stuck in a very unfair situation. my father used to abuse my brother, and my brother used to reflect it on me by taking advantage of my gender. he used to sexually molest me for 4–5 and I had to keep it secret. I was so foolish and weak, or maybe so kind… I didn’t want my brother to get punished…or maybe I was afraid of both…I don’t know.
What I know is, if there was any chance I could survive this horror mentally, I failed when I realized my brother allowed a pedophile to abuse me, when I was only 13.
That was the end of my hope in family, there was no such thing left for me.
At the age of sixteen, I left home with a backpack full of clothes and a little bit of money. I was searching all over the city for a place to live but no one would rent a place to a teenager except pimps and perverts. it was almost midnight and I haven’t found a place to stay. I had to return home that night, although I was disappointed to find peace within my family.
In fact, things even got worse when I returned. my father beat me very bad that my scalp started bleeding. he tore my earlobes, hurt my right eye, and damaged my left leg very badly. he turned into a prisoner since then, I wasn’t allowed to go out, meet friends or do any fun activity. he was a real bully and I hate him so much for ruining my life. thanks to him, I still have leg pain but that’s only physical. I have damaged more on the mental level.
After that period of time, I gave up on him and my brother. they both turned into strangers to me. my father changed significantly after the birth of my sister but he was so angry that I don’t talk to him anymore. my brother didn’t care. he stopped talking to me when I didn’t let him molest me. I was actually happy that he was staying away but after a few years, I was really aching for some brotherly love.
I still needed a real man to support me. I tried to find the love and respect I was aching for in other men. sometimes I think I fell for guys older than me because I was looking for a fatherly love I never had. regardless, none of them helped me fill the empty gap of love.
I just realized a couple of months ago that I’m still controlled by my father even though I’m not in touch with him for years and I’m having a relationship.
My boyfriend has to assure me once in a while that he won’t hurt me or abuse me at all, so I can open up to him. it breaks my heart that he is the one to deal with my own issues. sometimes the smallest problem makes me hate him too, and I have to work hard to love him again. I’m not sure how long I can go on, will I get better or will I ruin things? no idea, I’m just trying to keep everything under control for now.
To be honest, I hate and fear men a lot and for years, it was to protect me to save me from evil men. I had lots of therapy for this, probably for 2–3 years but it’s so rooted deeply that I could only stop it in my professional life.
To this day, I get scared if men get too close to me or raise their voices. I take baby steps knowing them to save myself from deep-rooted horror.
People say stuff like father like son, but I say like father like daughter. because if I had a normal father who cared, loved, and respected me, I would never have had a rough past, or fought many things only for being comfortable around men.
I don’t want to sound educational because that’s not the purpose of sharing my story, but I’d like to say that if you’re a father, love your daughter unconditionally so she won’t have a hard life like me.
If you’re a woman, choose your partner wisely so your children won’t suffer as I did, my biggest fear is that one day my future daughter gets hurt by her father. don’t let that happen to any woman.
And if you’re a mother, let your children speak out about their issues before it gets deeply rooted in them.
To parents: be their best friends! that’s all it takes.
This post was previously published on medium.com.
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