My first memory.
Looking back at my childhood and thinking really thinking about it always brings up one specific memory.
You could say that I didn’t have the best father in the world (many other people can say the same thing). The one thing he never did though was aim his bad temper at either of my two sisters or me. No, he saved it all for my mom.
Back to my memory though. Try to imagine, if you can, being about 3 or 4 years old, you’re tiny compared to the world around you. Everything is much bigger than you, and you’re just a small child who really can’t do anything. We lived in a very small house, it had a living room, a kitchen and a bathroom. It was my mom, my dad and my two sisters.
My dad had my mom pinned against the wall, his hands were on her shoulders, his back to my sisters and me, and he was just violently banging her against the wall like a rag doll. I honestly do not remember my mom’s facial expressions at that moment because all I saw was my dad being a monster. My sisters and I were just frozen, we couldn’t do anything. I remember explicitly though, after a few moments I couldn’t take it anymore and I decided to do something about it.
I went up to my dad and tried to pull him away from my mom but I was so tiny, he just pushed me away with one hand, not violently, but just enough for me to lose my grip. I remember that I continued to try to tear him away from her but with no luck of course. He was just blinded my anger.
The moments before and after that incident are lost to me, I don’t remember anything, I don’t remember what set him off. All I know is that it is honestly the first memory I can recall from my childhood. Of course I remember small events that happened around that timeframe but that is my earliest memory.
This short story from one of my childhood memories might not be very long, but it is my most vivid one. In retrospect it was the first incident in which I can honestly say that hatred started to grow inside of me. Even as a child I recognized what that emotion was, that incident, or that part of his personality is what first stirred hatred in me.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a hateful person by any means but this being my first story I feel that I’ll leave it at that. My goal is to continue this story, it might change trajectory the more I tell so bear with me.
Just to changes gears for a bit, here is a bit about me: I’m 28 years old, I have the most wonderful girlfriend I could ever hope for and at the moment we are planning something big within the next month. I’ll get into more detail on that in another story, but just know that it is something BIG. :)
Let’s get back on track now. I’ll continue writing my story, I’m sure there are many people who’ll, unfortunately, be able to relate to it in one form or another. I’m going to try my best to make this a daily thing.
I’ll be continuing through my childhood for the first few stories and I’ll dive deeper into some of the events so that the world may understand a bit more about me and how and why I think the way I do.
For now, thank you SO MUCH for taking the time to read this. I sincerely hope it wasn’t a waste of your time.
See you again VERY soon,