My first memory of being spanked

[Xtort]

This just occurred to me and I wanted to share some thoughts I've had.  Growing up, I had a very peaceful childhood.  My parents never, ever hit...this was a one time occurrence definitely.  I come from a very strict german family but hitting was just never on the table except this once.  Coincidentally, despite coming from a broken home and being raised by a mentally ill mother (bi-polar), I turned out pretty well.  Never got into trouble, never had a problem with conflicts, etc, which is basically the opposite of how things generally turn out for people with my upbringing.  I attribute that to my parents and their unofficial policy of non violence.

 

Anyway, this is how my memory goes.  I was in the first grade, so I was very young, and I had just mastered reading and writing the word 'van'.  I was absolutely stoked about my accomplishment; I had been terrified of even going to the first grade because I was worried I was not up to the daunting task of learning to read and write.  And I did it.  I don't think I've ever been more pleased with myself.

 

When I got home, I was absolutely sure that my mother, who loves me, would want to share in my joy.  So I took out a pen, went to our coffee table, and etched 'van' into the wood.  Over and over and over.  To me, the coffee table was an irrelevant and inconsequential thing, what better use for it than to bear remembrance of this incredible and amazing achievement of mine?  I was absolutely sure she'd be overjoyed.

 

She wasn't.  She was very, very angry, and for the life of me I couldn't understand why.  She was convinced that I had done this out of either malice or boredom.  Why would she think that?  I understood her point of view right away, I had put scratches into something without permission.  But why would she assume I'd done this to be mean?  I did not have a habit of destroying anyone's property but my own, I knew better than that.  She heard my side of the story and disregarded it completely, I think because she was so angry.  And that was when the hitting began.  It wasn't severe at all and even as angry as she was, she didn't want to do it, I could tell.  But she did it, and I do not recall the pain of it at all.  What I remember about this incident is the profound sense of betrayal in having this person that is supposed to love me completely disregard what I was saying to her and then hit me.  Over the years, it's something I've never forgotten, the memory to this day is vivid. I  can remember exactly what that coffee table looked like, I can remember the discussions we had and I can remember that feeling that I would never trust her again.

 

My mother is deceased now, but later in my life I confronted her about this in a positive way.  When I was nearing the end of my high school years I brought it up with her, and I explained to her that I really was being honest.  I just wanted her to be proud of me for being able to write a three letter word, that's all.  She immediately got defensive, and told me once again that I was lieing.  As if it even mattered at that point.  She still valued her sense of having done nothing wrong over my sense of betrayal, and she betrayed me again.

 

This is, to me, how powerful aggression is, and why it's such a bad idea to use against children.  Children are not dogs, hitting them doesn't tell them " don't do this".  It tells them "this is how little I really think of you".

[jpahmad]

Would you consider your mother to be the nurturing type?

[Xtort]

Most of the time yeah, she was.