“I never forgave my parents.” A story from a girl’s life…
Just recently I came across an article that struck me to the core. It was about a little girl in a children’s home for special needs who did not want to be adopted and decided to stay in an orphanage.
When I read the story to the end I wanted to share it with my friend. In response, she told me hers:
“You know, a psychologist once told me, ‘Everything that happens in your life is your personal experience, and you will still need it.’ I, too, had a difficult childhood. Although my parents earned good money and were respectable people, not bums or drunkards.
But they beat me constantly and mercilessly. Especially my father. His friends would often come over to our house when he was drunk, and they would have parties at home. Or we would go to their place for noisy gatherings. I began to quietly hate and fear my father.
Sometimes I wished in my dreams that he would leave my life forever. He often threatened to put me in an orphanage. He constantly punished me for every little thing: for not washing the dishes on time, for getting a B in school, for dusting between the windows of the radiator, and so on.
In my thirteenth year I left home to find an orphanage, and to surrender myself there. After wandering the streets for a long time looking for it, I didn’t notice how dark it started to get. I came back late and was punished again. I had to sit at home for a week and wait for the bruises to go away.
It’s been a long time, and I’m very glad that I live far away from them now. I have a family now, a husband, children, whom I dust off and love with all my heart. Only sometimes I remember the attitude of my parents to me. It seems like the past is slowly beginning to let go.
I understand very well, we are not given a choice, we come into this world to certain parents, how we grow up and who, depends entirely on the upbringing and the society in which we will be.
I’ve never had the question, “Why me? Why didn’t they love me? Why?” I understand everything perfectly, it’s just the way they are, it’s the way they were raised. But it’s hard on my soul, I can’t love them, especially my father. Maybe this is the upbringing? Maybe they instilled it in me?
I had no childhood, it was just an endless nightmare. I will always remember a quote I recently read in a book: “If you want to see warmth from your children in your old age, don’t breathe on them with coldness in childhood.
Listening very carefully to her story, the details of her life, I was just shocked by such a confession. There was one question running through my mind that I asked Veronica:
“Doesn’t your father understand anything? They say that with age comes wisdom, people begin to realize many of their mistakes, and try to correct what they’ve screwed up for a very long time. He didn’t even apologize for what he once did? Did he even try to do something about it? And your mother, being around, watching everything that was going on, how could she not protect her child? How could she allow your childhood to be ruined when she’s basically the only family member in the whole world for you.
I don’t get it. How parents can treat their children like that. It just hurts and hurts…”.
To this Veronica replied to me:
“Father and mother separated a long time ago. He is now looking for a new wife again, and I am like an “ungrateful” daughter to him. He brags to all his friends, acquaintances, and new wives every time that he helps all the time, does everything for me and my children, in a word, helps as much as he can, that he is so good, and I am so bad. In fact, he never even bought the cheapest toys for his grandchildren.
When my husband left me, leaving me with a small child in his arms, I had to go to my parents and ask them for help. To this day I think this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, I would have been better off staying the night at the train station. Their answer to my request just killed me – “You give the child to the orphanage and you can go back, we don’t need any problems with your child”.
I just turned around and went wherever I could see. For a long time I wandered among acquaintances, begged strangers for medicine and food, and then I met my future husband. At this difficult time in my life he supported me and helped me a lot. And now we are a big and close-knit family. But the past still does not let go … .
I can’t understand why my father lies. Perhaps his ostentatious nobility, he wants to please the next lady, because many are led to the caring father. But do they not realize that good parents do not abandon their child, will not go away from him, a loving father will always be around, and do not miss any opportunity to see, babysit grandchildren, and just to ask for visitors.
I grew up a “wolf cub,” stubborn and confident. The “wolf cub” grew into a “she-wolf,” ready to tear anyone’s throat out for her children.
And the parents, I guess, that’s the way it was supposed to be. It’s not for me to judge them…”.
