Shattered Glass

I'm just sitting here drinking a cup of tea and it got me thinking about a conversation my Mother and I had earlier. I was telling her this story from when I was younger about one of the first times I was disappointed and how I would continue to be disappointed throughout my life. First let me tell you the story I was telling her:

I was in Elementary school, I don't remember what grade, and it was Christmas time. Our principal had all of us write down a list of three things that we wanted and Santa would bring them to the school. I asked for three Nancy Drew books. I was obsessed with Nancy Drew! Anyway, when the time came to see which students got picked, my name was called. I couldn't believe I was picked (my principal hated me) and could barely contain my excitement about my new Nancy Drew books. Well, needless to say everyone received their presents and I was still waiting for my books. When the auditorium was clearing out I finally went up to the principal and said someone must have accidentally gotten my books, because I hadn't received a gift during the ceremony. Turns out I was only called downstairs so I can hold on to some other kids Playstation.

It may seem silly now, but back then I was really hurt. I started crying on the spot and nobody seemed to care. It wasn't the fact that I didn't get my Nancy Drew books that bothered me, I was most hurt that they called me downstairs, made me watch the other kids open up their new video games, and I was only there to hold on to a stupid a Playstation. Told you my principal hated me, she could have held on to it herself! That feeling of being unworthy or unnoticed has followed me through out my life.

I told my Mom that, that was one of the first times I can remember being truly hurt and disappointed, and how people continue to do things to make me feel that way to this day. Something that people don't know is that I am very sensitive. I just know how to put up a good front, because like I said, nobody really cares or notices that my feelings may be hurt. Anyway, my Mom then asks me if I had a happy childhood. It was hard for me to be honest with her, because I don't like to make my Mom feel bad, but I yes and no.

Yes, when my Father wasn't around I was the happiest kid. When my Father was around it was hell. I carried so much hurt and anger in my heart and had no outlet for it. I was then sent to therapy for having an attitude problem. Go figure. You see, my Father was physically, mentally, and emotionally abusive towards my Mom and myself. He destroyed everything. My Mom then asked if I was angry with her. Yes. I was angry with her for putting us in that situation and letting it continue for as long as it did.

She then said that she wishes I had told her then what I am telling her now. I did. Every God damn day. It just went in one ear and out the other. No matter what I said and what he did she always took his side. My Father would call me jealous and say that I didn't want to see my Mom happy. When I would tell my Mom something my Father had said to me I was called a liar. When my Father hit me I was the one who had to apologize for making him angry. Unworthy.

I've never admitted to my Father hitting me, because I was embarrassed. It wasn't a regular thing, but yeah it happened a couple of times. I'm not writing this to gain pity from anyone I just wanted to share my feelings both past and present. I also don't want to make it sound like I am a sad and miserable person. I'm not. I chose to be happy. More so now than in the past.

Thanks for listening,
Ashley Venus