My whole life has been affected by the abuse I suffered ass a child. I remember all the times my mother would tell her friends that she had wished to have two children. That her life was perfect until she became pregnant with me. How she had tried to lose the baby by following advice from people who knew things like that. Every minute detail seared itself into my memory. Suddenly I realized how important all those little snippets of gossip affected me, but the actual abuse, the physical abuse has had little effect on me. I was beaten with a rug beater on my bare back and behind so I could not go swimming at the beach because of welts and bruises. My hair was pulled so that huge sections of my scalp was exposed until new hair grew in.
When punishment was meted out my mother wanted to see me cry. I would grit my teeth and swear I would not give her that satisfaction. And so my beatings became longer and longer. Not very smart of me. And now I am interested in realizing that the physical abuse never comes to mind, whereas the mind games are with me on a daily basis. Once I wrote a short story about my mother and her tribulations, and I felt I forgave her for what she did to me. But there are still scars somewhere in my mind.