Psyche logo

You Did Not Turn Out Fine

TW: physical and emotional abuse

By Olivia BarkerPublished about a year ago 3 min read
1

When I was a kid, my sister and I would spend our free time doing normal kid things like playing with dolls or watching tv when our mother would walk into our room and glare at us. Nose upturned, lips pursed in disapproval. My sister and I would immediately sit at attention wondering what we were doing that was so wrong while our mom would go into her room and grab one of my dad’s belts.

I always told myself that I didn’t have it that bad. That I was one of the lucky ones because my mom stopped beating me before I became a teenager and that she had only used a belt (except that one time when she used a power cord). I never got any bruises or broken bones. I turned out fine.

If you asked my mom, she’d say she turned out fine too. She was raised by a single mom that worked constantly and expected her to take care of her younger siblings. She was beaten with anything her mom could find: a switch, a belt, a ruler, a broom. She wasn’t allowed to do any extracurricular activities or go out with friends. She wasn’t able to go to a four year college even though her younger sister got to. My heart broke for her even though she used the way she was raised to pinpoint all the ways she’d gone wrong raising us. We weren’t afraid of her, she’d said one night when I was trying to make a case about whatever we were arguing about. Probably a birthday party she wouldn’t let me go to or a nail polish color she wouldn’t let me wear. She wanted us to be too afraid to disrespect her. If we were afraid of her we wouldn’t question her or talk back or have opinions.

My mother was afraid of her mom. I believe she still is. Either that or she’s exhausted from a childhood of constantly having to guess what kind of mood her mother was in. I don’t think she cares what happens to her mother. She only used to visit her so she could see us. Most of the time they would end up fighting over something and mom would storm into the back where we were watching tv and tell us we were leaving. We’d hug our grandmother goodbye trying not to breathe in the smoke from her Kools.

Having a mother wound is a complicated and heartbreaking experience. I love my mother, but all of my maladaptive behaviors can be traced back to things that she did to me. As much as I want to defend my mom who says she did the best that she could, I also have to say that it wasn’t enough. Being told that I had nothing to complain about because I had clothes, shelter, and food made me feel guilty for wanting emotional support from my parents. Or from anyone for that matter.

Society’s definition of fine is people pleasing, walking on eggshells, not knowing how to emotionally regulate, the inability to be vulnerable, self sabotage, communication issues. I may not be able to set boundaries, but at least I’m not mass murderer.

I know overcoming the effects of generational trauma is something I have to make a conscious effort to choose every day, but I’m doing the work. I’m unlearning my defense mechanisms every day being in a relationship with someone who isn’t abusive. I’m not used to anyone listening to me expressing my wants and needs without making me feel ungrateful and turning it into a fight, but I’m growing.

familytrauma
1

About the Creator

Reader insights

Outstanding

Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!

Add your insights

Comments (1)

Sign in to comment
  • D. ALEXANDRA PORTER7 months ago

    I hope you know that you are a smart and beautiful individual. I see this especially in your passage, "I know overcoming the effects of generational trauma is something I have to make a conscious effort to choose every day, but I’m doing the work." May your heart heal during your journey! 💙

Find us on social media

Miscellaneous links

  • Explore
  • Contact
  • Privacy Policy
  • Terms of Use
  • Support

© 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.