Breaking Free From the Gripping Shackles of Silence
My inner child deserves peace
For the longest time, my mother reigned queen over my being — not the way one might expect as a normal parent. My voice was silenced, shrouded in doubt and insecurity stemming from a tough childhood under the iron fist of a narcissist.
Mom instilled fear in me from the time I started school. She made it clear if I veered from her command, corporal punishment would follow for the slightest transgression.
I was in first grade when I received my first spanking. Sister Pancratious mixed me up with another little Black girl who disrupted her class — there were only two of us. When my cousin picked me up from school, she told her to tell my mother I had misbehaved, handed her a note to be signed and returned.
I wanted to correct her, but contradicting an adult was against Mom’s rule. I bit my tongue, bled deep down inside my soul for fear of the coming punishment based on a misdemeanor I didn’t commit.
Fear kept me from speaking up for myself. Mom didn’t even ask for my side of the story. She kept her word, made me lie across her bed and spanked me with a wide black belt. I was six.
My grandmother was my only redemption. When she was three thousand miles away, I was on my own to navigate…
