Maybe I should get a bumper sticker that says it, eh? Can you see it in the Costco parking lot? "MY KID IS AN HONOURS STUDENT" "MY SON IS A MARINE" "MY OTHER CAR IS THE BATMOBILE" and then, on my Ford Focus: "I DON'T BEAT MY CHILDREN".
I don't talk about it very often, and when I do, it's in the company of good, trusted friends and usually after a few healthy servings of liquor. It's not something one brags about, you see, but I think it's about time I boast:
I was beat up as a kid. A lot. Kicked, hit, slapped, punched a few times. Shoved, screamed at, embarrassed in front of friends and neighbors and sometimes complete strangers. It started when my mom married my stepfather, and continued until I was big enough and old enough and brave enough to fight back. The scars I bear are all in my head, I was lucky enough to never need stitches or a cast. The only doctors I needed then, and still need today, are the kind that try to mend broken minds.
My mind isn't completely broken, but I do have my own set of limps from the beatings I endured. If you look up "Symptoms of adults who were abused as children" you'll pretty much find my eHarmony profile:
"Hi! I'm Jenny. I'm a divorced mom of four with low self-esteem and severe trust issues. I like to eat and drink my feelings, and my feelings usually taste like inadequacy and panic. I don't like to be touched but OMG do I love dogs! If you're looking for a mate with strong family ties and great interpersonal skills, you might want to skip me. However, if you have always wanted to be with someone who can't remember most of her childhood, I'm your gal. Plus I make a great bowl of lentils AND I love action/adventure movies. BOOM."