Tough love doesn’t work on abused kids.
Tough love is something that’s intended for someone to be better, to push themselves harder.
Something painful, for the greater good.
Abused kids don’t get that luxury, the luxury of knowing… why, and for what.
What could they have possibly done…
to deserve such a pain?
“_______, what did I do wrong? I’m sorry… I’m sorry, forgive me please…”
I’m so tired, please forgive me for today.
Let’s do this dance all over again tomorrow, but for now I need to rest. Please. I beg. Please?
Don’t hurt me.
I remembered how afraid I was, how anxious and alert I had to be since I was a child.
I was 6, and then I was 17. A decade of me, just gone.
.
¬ Don’t make any move,
¬ Don’t make any sound,
¬ Don’t show the wrong expression.
¬ You have to look serious! But not too much.
¬ You should look forlorn. But not angry.
¬ Twitch of your lips, the movement of your eye, your breathing, not too loud, even… even breathing. Don’t — don’t flinch! They’ll notice you, no, please no, please look away, I’m scared. Please look away.
I didn’t do anything. I promise, I promise...
…
¬NO!
¬ You CAN’T slip!
¬ Do you want to STARVE? The silent treatment? The glare?
Think. Brace. Keep. Pause. Breathe. Look away. Look straight. Nod. Look down.
If you do not calculate every step, there will be screaming, one wrong look and there will be scolding. No matter how attentive you are, no matter how well you behaved. There will always be punishment. Fear.
Abused victims interprets sternness and scolding as something that is inherently their fault. That their suffering… is one of their own making.
It’s not because of sloppy paperwork at school, it’s not because of a bad performance review —
It’s…
It’s not what they have done.
It’s because of them; themselves.They’re disappointing their lover, their boss, their friends, their supervisor —
Everybody, just everybody…
So keep yelling at them, keep telling them how wrong they are, keep telling them they’re not doing good enough, not trying hard enough. Tell me, have you ever seen someone smile in a daze and sit weird after 400g of uppers?
That’s motivation isn’t it? In your words… Tough love.
Yes. Yes. Yes. You can’t coddle them! They will be weak!
“This is real life! Real life is like this!”
…Was my abuse not real?
Was the screaming and the threats and the rapid panicked heartbeats… not real? Not real life? Is it not real life? It felt real to me. I can’t make you angry, my mind filled, splitting at the seam with PTSD, I’m scared of the way people look, and the you look at me, as you open your mouth. Does it feel real to you?
I’d disappear, Because I can’t —
… I can’t do it all over again.
Whisper it to me, sweetly:
‘What happens to things that don’t bend?’
So,
