The truth behind my child …….
Everyday that my mom would pick me up from the day care center I would feel this rush of emotions that would make my legs feel weak as I ran into my her arms. I could remember that I wanted to tell my mom something but I wasn’t really sure of what was happening. I didn’t know if whether or not what I was going through was normal or even real. Everyday my mom would ask me how was school and I always talked about everything from the pictures I made to the songs I learned. I wanted to tell my mom something else that I felt but I just didn’t mean to pay too much attention to the matter.
As a child I was confused about whether or not it was okay to know the answer a question you knew the answer to. My teacher always instilled this fear in me that after a while started to overpower my normal activity as a child mentally. I never understood why this teacher didn’t like the fact that I knew the answer to one of her questions. She would constantly put me down. She couldn’t stand the fact that sometimes instead of playing ball out in the playground I enjoyed looking at a book and getting lost in the pictures. I would make up my own stories in which I would mold everything to my liking and my perfect little world.
Years have passed by and that thing that I couldn’t seem to say back then to my mom was that my teacher used to abuse me. Every time I answered a question right she hated it and she would hit me whenever she got the chance and whenever no one was watching her. She implanted this fear within me since she always used to bring me down and also because she used to hit me. She would lock me in a room and hit me and every time I would come out of that room I would have to come out with a smile in my face because that’s all I had that she couldn‘t take away from me. And to be quiet honest that’s exactly how I face life every single day of my life, with a smile upon my face regardless of what times are like for me. Every time this memory comes back to me I get chills because it’s as if the scars I have open up once again. I remember thinking she is hurting me and I remember saying to myself she can hurt me physically, but not hurt the person that I am and will be. It killed her to see me happily enjoying myself even after she would beat me.
There are times when you have the misfortune to come face to face with people that put you down. I face every single day of my life with a smile and my head held up high and I realize that I do it the same way I used to come out of that room where I used to be beat .Through out the years I realized that no one can tell you what you can or can not do, the only person that can tell you that is “ yourself ”. As for that teacher I hold no grudge against her because I am alive and I have turned into a strong, beautiful women that continues to grow and learn every single day of her life regardless of her past.
Everyday that my mom would pick me up from the day care center I would feel this rush of emotions that would make my legs feel weak as I ran into my her arms. I could remember that I wanted to tell my mom something but I wasn’t really sure of what was happening. I didn’t know if whether or not what I was going through was normal or even real. Everyday my mom would ask me how was school and I always talked about everything from the pictures I made to the songs I learned. I wanted to tell my mom something else that I felt but I just didn’t mean to pay too much attention to the matter.
As a child I was confused about whether or not it was okay to know the answer a question you knew the answer to. My teacher always instilled this fear in me that after a while started to overpower my normal activity as a child mentally. I never understood why this teacher didn’t like the fact that I knew the answer to one of her questions. She would constantly put me down. She couldn’t stand the fact that sometimes instead of playing ball out in the playground I enjoyed looking at a book and getting lost in the pictures. I would make up my own stories in which I would mold everything to my liking and my perfect little world.
Years have passed by and that thing that I couldn’t seem to say back then to my mom was that my teacher used to abuse me. Every time I answered a question right she hated it and she would hit me whenever she got the chance and whenever no one was watching her. She implanted this fear within me since she always used to bring me down and also because she used to hit me. She would lock me in a room and hit me and every time I would come out of that room I would have to come out with a smile in my face because that’s all I had that she couldn‘t take away from me. And to be quiet honest that’s exactly how I face life every single day of my life, with a smile upon my face regardless of what times are like for me. Every time this memory comes back to me I get chills because it’s as if the scars I have open up once again. I remember thinking she is hurting me and I remember saying to myself she can hurt me physically, but not hurt the person that I am and will be. It killed her to see me happily enjoying myself even after she would beat me.
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