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APRIL PROMPT
No Tears Left to Cry
The legacy of an abusive childhood
“Quit crying, or I’ll really give you something to cry about!”
Dad wasn’t issuing me an empty threat; after all, I was crying because he had just smacked me again for doing something wrong.
I couldn’t remember what my actions were that caused my father to see red and consequently take his hand to my backside. Whatever my crime had been was gone from my memory; all I could do was focus on the awful present.
That present moment was filled with intense physical pain and the emotional embarrassment of having my pants pulled down, leaving my bare bottom exposed while a grown man took out his anger and frustrations on my five-year-old body.
No, this was no empty threat. My father had already followed through on his previous promise to “spank me so hard that I wouldn’t be able to sit for a week.” And yet, now with my bum red raw, all I could do was cry.
Only, I wasn’t allowed to cry.
Crying only made him angrier.
No crying as a child; no crying as an adult
Looking back at my childhood, I can see that growing up in an abusive home didn’t just hurt me physically — it affected my…
