by fairychild

Created on: November 16, 2009

WHEN you're a child, the world is wonderful, shiny and filled with possibilities. And it can all change.

My bright and happy world changed when I turned 5. It was the first time I saw my father raise his hand and slap my mother across the face. Up and till then my father had been my own personal hero. Someone I had worshipped. It changed.

Throughout the years, his temper became increasingly violent and his words deeply hurtful and lasting.As I grew older and protective of my two younger sisters, I could no longer stand by and watch. Instead I stepped in and offered myself as a boxing bag to save my mother.

Once when my mother was heavily pregnant with my little sister, my father hit my mother across the face and then continued to punch her stomach. There was time, when he hit me before I went to school in the morning. My nose, bled from his hard punches, staining my crisp, white school uniform.

The outcome was not what I expected. My mother, who seemed to be a hardworking and independent woman, continued to pick this violent and hateful man over her three children.

The cycle was simple, they fought violently. He would kick us, out of our home, calling us bitches and whores. We would seek refuge at a neighbours home. He apologised and of course mother would forgive him and blame us for being such ungrateful children.

Sometimes he would leave for months. And in those moments, they were the happiest times in my childhood.

But she always took him back. She never tried to protect us from his anger or from his harsh and vulgar words. Now I am 31-years-old and the cycle continues.

To the sheer horror of some friends and family, I've walked away from my parents. I've cut them out of my life because I don't want to be dragged down anymore.

I've tried to help them but they insist on living a cruel and violent existence.

When I was 11-years-old, my father left, again, and my mother like always shipped us to leave with a relative. It was during this time, an uncle, took advantage off the situation and sexually abused me. I never told anyone. And I still haven't.

The abuse, the lack of support from my parents only propelled me to have a better life, free from the dark and twisted abuse.

I worked hard, followed my dreams and became dependent on myself.

Good for me huh? right. No. What no one tells you is how this shapes you as a person. It has made me hard and honestly incapable of having a relationship with a man. Why? Because I'm terrified. If the two people you trusted

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