What Scares Me

I am still punishing the little girl inside me. Still whipping her with the leather strap that was kept in the bottom drawer in the kitchen.

This morning I feel the terrifying dread that I felt when there was a problem at home and the ugly anger found me as its target.

Back then I would plead silently with my brothers and sister as they backed away from me.
"Someone tell them that I didn't do it!"
"Tell them I am NOT lying"
"Tell them I can be a good girl"
"Tell them not to hurt me. I am so scared."

That little girl got a whipping, her arm jerked up high bent over a chair with her naked bottom exposed. She bumped her head. She feels dirty with her pants down.

Five lashes, maybe ten, maybe twenty. And then sent away alone with no one to comfort her, dry her tears, tell her everything will be all right.

Did she even understand what she had done wrong? Or how to stop doing the wrong thing she had been punished for?

How can someone who loves you hurt you like that? And keep on hurting you like that?

Love is not supposed to be so terrifying and confusing.