BEING SUBJECTIVE

SUBJECTIVE

Subjective means, “based on or influenced by personal feelings, tastes, or opinions”

For my fourth birthday

I was given a toy makeup kit

Filled with plastic replicas of eye shadows,

Lipsticks and nail polish.

A toy that was designed to help me learn

About what being pretty means in our world.

I was so proud of that toy.

One morning, as I pretended to put on my makeup

Like I watched you do every day,

I looked at you and said,

“Mommy, I’m getting pretty like you.”

You spun around at me and

Pulled yourself up ramrod straight and said,

“You WILL NEVER be as pretty as me.”

“You WILL NEVER be as smart as me.”

“Your Father will never love you as much as he loves me because he likes

Thin, dark-haired, dark-eyed girls which you are NOT and NEVER WILL BE.’

“But I’m only being SUBJECTIVE”

SUBJECTIVE…

Subjective. I did not know what that word meant,

But I knew you meant to hurt me,

And you did hurt me

Over and over again through the years with that word and others

Not to mention how inappropriate it was to imply my father would not find me attractive

In the manner you implied

But you crushed my little four-year-old soul that day

And you were okay with it.

Because you meant to do it.

I WAS FOUR YEARS OLD.

How long had you hated me?

How much did you resent me?

Before you decided it was okay to spew those words at me?

It took me another five years

And hearing that word over and over again

Before I was able to use a dictionary and look it up.

Subjective means, “based on or influenced by personal feelings, tastes, or opinions”

So, in YOUR opinion

I was ugly, stupid and no one would ever want or love me, not even my father.

Over years you told me, such beautiful loving things such as

“You are not college material.”

“Boys will only like you for your big tits.”

“You embarrass us with your looks.”

“You are ordinary, you are plain

“You will never be pretty

“But I’m only being subjective.”

Half of my fifth grade year you denied me breakfast and dinner

Only allowing me to eat lunch at school so as not to arouse suspicion

Because at 5’5” and 135 pounds,

I was fat. Instead of enrolling me in sports, you starved me

But you were being SUBJECTIVE

When I wanted to take swim lessons

At the Country Club that Father suggested

You said, “No.”

Because I was too fat to go in public in a swimsuit

And would embarrass you.

I never learned how to swim

Because you were being Subjective

The opinion of my mother

Who should have been building me up and making me

Believe in myself simply hated me

And thought I was stupid and disgusting.

Because you hated yourself so much

That you saw my so-called flaws and failures as a reflection of you.

Subjective became a symbol of my childhood

And like most abuse, it escalated into physical abuse

At ten years old, you stood in my bedroom door

And told me I had to wear long pants and a long sleeved sweater

In the hot New Mexico heat

So no one could see the bruises and marks you let Father cover my arms and legs with

After YOU egged him on with lies about things I had not done

You said,

“You don’t want people to see how we have to punish you and

Because then they will know what a bad, horrible child you are

But I’m only being SUBJECTIVE.

Seriously, what kind of mind fuckery is that?

You were smart and manipulative and an expert at twisting things to fit your agenda

I know you were dealing with your own childhood trauma and Father’s abuse toward you,

That did not make it okay to systematically destroy me.

The beatings, the destruction of my toys and personal belongings

The standing back and letting Father physically abuse me

And calling it SUBJECTIVE

SUBJECTIVE

Damn, I hate that word.

I watched you do it to others also

You were a beast to your sisters

And God forbid if one of you students was not “perfect.”

You would come home and mock and belittle children

Who had been entrusted in your care

If they were not as “smart” and “witty” or attractive as you thought they should be

Or if they had any sort of disability,

You claimed that were faking it and made their lives miserable by

Making them write sentences over and over again

For minor classroom infractions.

But you were only being SUBJECTIVE

And as an adult and I confronted you about your behavior

You told me, “God expects you to forgive.”

“If you don’t forgive me, you will go to hell.”

Fifth commandment says you are to honor your father and mother

You damned me to hell for your inability to not brutalize me

However, over time, through experience and life

I realized what you were

And it was exactly what you did not want others to realize

You were just a pathetic, horribly inferior damaged person who

Deserved nothing but pity and avoidance,

But hell, now, I’m just being Subjective, Mother

- Julie O'Hara

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