I was six years old and playing in the backyard when my mother ran in and swooped me off of the ground. She threw me over her shoulder and ran for the gate. My truck fell, and I screamed. Then I heard a loud bang. Bouncing on my mother’s shoulder, I looked up and saw my father with his shotgun over his head. My mother ran to her car and threw me in. She ran to her side of the car and drove away. She never talked about what happened, and I didn’t see my father again until I was a teenager.
I didn’t know what was happening in my home, but I could feel the tension and anger between my parents. Then, one day, dad took us for a drive, and we never returned home. I used to sit by the window waiting for my mother to come and get us, but she never did. I thought I was bad, and that’s why she didn’t want me. I was shocked and happy when she came, but my truck fell. I cried every night for a long time because I thought I was a bad mom to the doll. I had left it just like my mother left me. My father never came to get me from my mother. As a child, you think no one wants you if your own parent didn’t.
When I grew up, I was told that my father physically abused my mother. One day, he decided to take my sisters and me away. Because he refused to let us see her, she decided to risk her life and save us. However, she was only able to steal me away. My other two siblings stayed with dad. Dad never bothered to come back for me.
I believe that incident made me think nothing was stable. I was scared that everyone would leave if I weren’t good enough. So, when I should have left my abusive wife, I stayed and thought that if I could be quieter or nicer, she would change too. I thought I was doing something wrong, making her mean to me and our children.
I desperately wanted my children to have the stable home I didn’t have. But seeing them hurt when I was upset or scared when their father was home left me confused. I didn’t know what to do. I knew I deserved to be treated with respect and love, but I couldn’t get out. I became depressed, and that’s when everything started to fall apart. I couldn’t go to work, and when I did show up, I couldn’t focus. I eventually lost my job. My health started to deteriorate. I was also easily irritated and snapped at the children, who were doing everything to make me happy, which only made me feel guilty.
My ex-wife finally had enough and left. She did me a favor because I had no choice but to start the healing process. During healing, I became aware that I didn’t even know who I was or what I wanted. It was like I was programmed to be someone, and I was acting to please everyone. It took time to learn about myself and put me first. I had to forget a lot of what I thought was taught.
With help and support, I am now able to understand my triggers and how they influence my decisions and choices with whom I date, my relationships with my family, and my goals at work. I can now make decisions from an emotionally grounded position.
Nick B.
