Parents and their kids have a unique bond. We all know they love us and while their tantrums never come from the heart, we still take that pretty seriously and get upset about it. However, this 19-year-old’s story is vice versa. This girl’s parents have physically and verbally abused her and she yet believes she loves them to the moon and back. This letter she wrote as an answer to a Quora question make you cry a river and want to make her feel better in all ways:
“Going anonymous for obvious reasons.
Age 5– Being a left handed person always felt like a super power. Mother broke two wooden scales hitting my left hand and turned me into a right handed person. I still use my left hand unknowingly. Old habits die hard.
Age 10– Got hit by father’s belt double folded, Once, Twice, Thrice.. until my skin would peel out and bulge up just because I didn’t score good marks they wanted.
I remember falling at their feet and joining hands for them to stop.
I remember wearing a sweater to school, to avoid the questions asked by my friends. To keep the good impression which my mother had created on them.
Age 12- Got caught bunking my tuition classes. Got locked in the same room for more than 3 days. The only time the room would be opened to give me food.
Age 15- My mother caught me and my boyfriend holding hands. That night I wouldn’t forget in my entire life. My parents beat me up red and blue with a belt, with sandal, with kitchen items, with everything that came in their hand. Broke my phone. They threatened me of stopping my education and getting me married. I was barely 15.
I remember my head being banged against the wall straight. I couldn’t believe it was the same dad who would caress my hair when I was small. That big bulge on my head hurt. There was blood all over the room. (I had my periods that day).
The next morning, I remember my mother making me wash utensils and telling me ‘now on you will be our servant’. Well, servants were treated better. She spat on my face.
I cannot forget them burning my books. Especially maths. It was my favorite subject. I was a topper then.
Age 17- I remember being called a Slut by my own mother. (Just for the event I stated above) She said go and sit in some Kotha (whorehouse). I cried for days together.
Today I’m 19. I still get tears when they get tears. I still love them. I do get angry and sad at times remembering all of this and more. I still consider them as my parents. But talking about my childhood. I don’t have many good memories.
Give your children memories that they can tell their children about.”
There were various responses considering her well-being to which she responded in the best possible way:
