How do you get to a point where you think it is justified to hit your child, your own flesh and blood? Lash out your punches to the point where you child ends up limping for a few days afterwards. Her growing and changing body, with all the growing aches, pulled and thrown and thrashed. How do you get to the point where you think it is OK? Is it really the full story when you think and say you are going it for her own good? What pathetic kick did you get out of it all? A release of tension perhaps. Of long held anger, not necessarily just towards her.
The more I grow and learn, the more adult I become with my own share of worldly experiences and views, I understand more and more all the baggage you had been carrying. You still carry. All the resentment and anger you hold against the world. I can see why, and I think I understand at a subconscious level why you are the way you are. Why you were the way you were. But I was just a child. I did not deserve for all of that to be taken out on me.
As I caress my little son’s hair while he sleeps contently with his face plastered on to my chest, I cannot stop thinking that I was that small once. That small and that trusting. As I hear the rhythmic, soft breathing full of love and joy, I think you must have held me like that once and I must have slept feeling loved too. From that quiet, beautiful moment on the couch, how long and what does it take to reach a point when I too might feel justified to pull my child’s hair, angry fist-full at a time, fully knowing and wanting it to hurt to make him listen, to make him study…to make him comply. I cannot begin to imagine how one reaches that point. And I do not want to know.
I just wish to stop aching from all your blows from so many years ago.