When I was younger, my dad beat my sister and I all the time. After he beat us, he'd tell us exactly what we did wrong. We'd get slapped, knuckeled on the head, stood on our knees holding brooms for hours on end, and then there were the beatings. There were LOTS of welts of all sizes. I got chained and whipped once - with my sister and brother standing in front of me, asking for mercy. I was so rambunctious (sp?) and mischievous, I think I got something done to me on a daily basis. Yes, it was horrifying. All from five years old and up. When you're young you simply do not understand.
During our early teen years, my sister stood up to him. She'd punch him back, and kick him in the balls. My mom would hit us too, but not nearly as bad as dad. My sister in turn scratched the hell out of my mom. I could never do that to my parents. THEN, she got into trouble at school, and told her teachers that she was getting physically abused from home. The cops came. And they sat there with him.. telling him, that if he touches her again, he WILL go to jail. He sat there, face in hands, elbows up.. looking so frustrated. He said stammering, "This is how we discipline our children in our country (he's full Chinese). Teach them to do right. To be good. This is how I was raised, how my 10 siblings were raised, and how my father and grandfather were raised." He knew no other way. It was on his face. I looked at him, and just.. felt .. sorry. You could tell the cops somewhat sympathized, but they said - this is a warning.
(Just picture.. a good, super hard working (grease and dirt on him, head to toe, everyday) Chinese man. A true man of all men. Honor and pride just beaming from his soul. Goodness truly enveloped his heart, but tough as nails. His family was to be in order. His children WOULD be respectful and learn all the necessary values and morals that were to be learned. He treasured, loved and worshipped his wife. The only time they ever fought were over the children (over his heavy hand). All he knew was work and his family, and poured his life and soul into it. Even if the early years, they had to have it a bit rough.)
And he didn't sleep that night. He did not understand. My sister eventually moved into the school's campus.. at Gallaudet (the school for the deaf in our area), you could get dormitories as young as freshman high school. She'd come home on the weekends, and she was never touched again.
Me? Oh yes.. I did.. thank God for the long dining room table (he'd chase me around that thing for at least a half hour, everytime, if I made it) .. and my mom. Those two saved me from possible scarring. But, honestly.. towards the end.. I used it to my advantage.
I'd provoke him to hit me, so I could run away for weeks on end, taking adventures. (You adapt to your environment.) But, he was a good man. This is not the victim defending the abuser. He was not like that. He was not a raging alcoholic. He was in the true sense of the word - a disciplinarian. Of course, no affection derived from it during those times (I felt...).. but he had his ways, I suppose. His laughs with us or when he was generously cordial. When he joked around.. But rules were rules.. any bending or breaking resulted in punishment. And he was consistent as dark would come to night. There were no if's, and's or but's.
His rules were based on respect, chores, organization, cleanliness, punctuality, and school. And he was a perfectionist. Completely honorable rules. Everyone loved him. There was no "evil" side of him. He did lose his temper a lot with us .. but.. they were pretty much justifiable. Really. I must've tested him a million ways.
A lot of people will disagree with my understanding for my childhood. But .. you don't know my dad. You don't know how much it took.. to bestow the morals and values they did. I would be on a COMPLETELY different path, had my parents not beat it into me. Seriously. I was BAD.
After 16.. it pretty much ended. I ran away each and every time. Enough for him to stop. But for my brother too. I think that was the age limit (though he said in his country, full grown men would stillr receive beatings). And then we'd joke about it at family gatherings later on. The dining room table.. how he'd threaten to chop off my hair in my sleep (he'd drag me by my hair, from different rooms to another..)..
I mean - yes, it was horrible.. but .. now that I'm grown.. I can see it from a distance. I see other kids who were taught in a loving and learning manner.. and I have no idea what that's like. I am very close to my mom.. she has prepared me for literally EVERYTHING in life.. except marriage. She had a perfect one. Kind of hard to mimic. My dad.. has so much to do with who I am today. I can still hear him preaching stories to us .. on the why's and what's.. the lessons at the end.
I don't know. Maybe, yes, he was wrong.. but not in the way that most child abusers are viewed. It wasn't like that.
Because of my harsh upbringing.. I REFUSE to bring my children up like that. NO WAY. And it's a learning experience for me.. because I didn't have patient parents. I can't really mimic their parenting so much. Only the good times, do I imitate. Hubby is very affectionate and loving with them. But he too, has to be the disciplinarian from time to time (mild spankings, hand to butt, no waxed sticks like me). It's all in my heart (with their future as my goal set), and I'm winging it the best I got, without the harshness I received at their age.
I don't know. I read a post, something on the matter.. and someone commented, on the lines of ugly.. and I just wanted to shed light, that.. in a few circumstances.. it's not that horrid.
And if anything.. it's character building. Any hardship is. So long as the person knows how to mold it into something good. I'm a big cry baby.. trust me, if I'm not crying.. it was a good thing.
That's all. Don't judge and assume too quick too fast.
(this is just my story, and I do realize that REAL bad, nasty illegal child abuse is going on out there.. not denying it.. just me defending the generalization of some aspects)
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