Most of us grew up in an era when spanking, slapping, and smacking your kids was both legally and socially acceptable. What happened the very first time that you stood up to your parents and refused to accept that sort of treatment any longer?
Both of my parents beat me. Never at the same time. Each had their own trigger. I started running away from home at age 11. I’d sleep under my friend’s bed. After a few days my parents would be so relieved I was alive. It was a terrible, terrible family dynamic. I was living elsewhere by age 16.
Once I became a parent I never beat my child. I made sure he knew I loved him even if we argued. Bad things happen to kids when they don’t feel safe at home. It’s not that difficult to parent with respect and open communication.
I also left home at 16. It's amazing when you finally have kids of your own and like... they don't piss you off constantly? I thought kids were supposed to be some horrific pain in the ass, so I never had any. Now I've got two stepkids who are wonderful and it makes me think, often, what the hell was wrong with the people who raised me?
I know for sure that my dad beat us less than he was beaten by his father. No excuse but I understand and blame ignorance. I am eternally grateful for the mom friends who helped me. Yes, they are so precious. I still feel that way about my 26 year old.
That’s an amazing success story. Well done, you. 🙌🏼
Thanks. To be fair, I had help that my parents didn’t have: local mothers club, positive discipline applied at school with parenting classes, the internet. My parents were wonderful grandparents. Life is weird!
'My parents were wonderful grandparents.'
Weird indeed. I always add that qualifier when I'm telling childhood horror stories too. Stranger still, that was the only worthwhile lessons I took from them and here I am with no grandchildren of my own.
I’ve been assured I’ll never have grandchildren. That’s ok. I want my kid to live life on his terms. It’s what I fought so hard for and I fully support him doing the same.
My dad spent years in an orphanage where he was treated horribly. He swore he would never spank his kids and he didn't. My parents never laid a hand on me. My dad was born in 1929 and my mom in 1931. They were kind and gentle people and I miss them every day.
My mother was raised in a children’s home in the 50s, my dad was not. He was raised in a home where the male figurehead had absolute authority over every single aspect of their life. My dad beat me with a belt three times during my childhood, and the third time my mother got home from work and saw what had happened and told my dad that “if you ever touch her with a belt again, so help me God, I will wrap that belt around your neck”.
I never got beat with a belt again.
That line gave me chills.
Thank God your mom stepped in. I'm sorry you went through that. I don't understand parents need to beat their children. :( When you've come from that abuse you have to learn NOT be where you came from!
Thank you for sharing this. I'm so glad to know your parents existed and were appreciated and remembered and especially after your dad's past experience that he got a chance to love and be loved with kindness.
Love to see the cycle of abuse broken. May we all have that strength and self-awareness.
Same here. My father decided to break the cycle of abuse so he never did get physically violent. Unfortunately he could still be quite verbally abusive.
Same with my mom. But it was still better than her upbringing. And I did better than her, so we’re baby stepping out way out of the legacy…
You were very fortunate to have such kind and loving parents.
Lucky duck
My dad is in his 80’s and he never hit us. His father who was born over 110 years ago never hit his children as well. My dad’s the most gentlest man I know.
Age 14, mom slapped me right across the face for something minor. I slapped her right back and it pretty much changed her channel.
To Bravo?
I had to slap my 16 yo son across the face - it was the only time I hit him. It was just so shocking to me, his little plan to do petty crime.
Because I never hit him before, his reaction was bad. But he ended up not doing the petty crime and now that he’s 26, he has admitted that if I didn’t stand for myself, hisself, and our family that way, he would’ve gone down a different and bad path.
He’s actually Mentioned it a few times, but always with a regretful thanks?? And then that allows me to beg forgiveness and discuss whatever is left of the issue.
I mean, when my parents hit me, there was no discussion. Trying to speak caused more emotional strife and threats.
I fell back into their ways. Shamefully. But i guess I did one better. My kid can talk to me about it and we share fault and united in appreciation that it happened to work for both of us. Mostly afterward in healing together from the event.
Strange side note: as an adult, that son of mine has had not one but two best friends punch him in the face to stop him from doing something stupid. He has ADHD.
??idk! wtf!! I didn’t make this happen!! Oh yeah, that one night with my husband in September of 1996. Yeah. I guess I did start it.
Fwiw, my dad only ever hit me once. I was 11ish and having a fight with him and for some unknown godforsaken reason I decided to bite him. Never bit someone before (or after) but I just stretched out and bit him!
He backhanded me across the face, I think mostly out of instict/reaction. He immediately felt terrible and I was super dramatic about it.
We talked about it a few times over the years and then just recently in my mid 30's we talked about it again.
I have zero negative feelings about it and honestly even when the bite-slap happened I knew I deserved it anyway so I was never truly angry, hurt, or traumatized by the slap, just shocked at the time. But I damn well never bit anyone again or hurt anyone in anger again. I love my dad, he doesn't need forgiveness for what happened either. Just a parent trying to parent a shit-ass little kid and sometimes not doing it perfectly - just like you.
Aw thanks! I’m pretty sure I speak for my son too.
Sounds like you’ve got good instincts and relationship with your kid, and that he’s surrounded by good people who care for him.
Aw! We both have been through the wringer. He matured. I got wiser.
Thank you.
The last time my mom put her hands on me I was 33. She punched me so hard it took my breath away. I spun around & told her there were no laws to protect me as a kid but if she ever did it again I would be calling the police & pressing charges. I wish I would have thought of that sooner.
Damn you should have slapped her back. Hard.
My mother? Absolutely not. I took it. I never cried in front of her. I never cursed at her. I will go one step further. When I was old enough I was fast. 6-7 yrs old. If her hand went up I was gone. So she took the metal extension pole of the vacuum off. It gave her an xtra 2 feet to reach me as I was running. She got me once. But I got even quicker. Im going to write something I've probably only told one or two people before. My favorite line back to my mom was "I don't care", she hated it. I was really checked out when it came to her maybe for my survival. The worse thing she ever did to me was.....she had stolen a bowling alley medal ashtray. She would empty ashtrays into it because it was so big. I don't know what I had said to her but it pissed her off & her reaction was to throw that full full ashtray in my face & hair. I really can not pinpoint my age. I'm guessing I was 10. I want to say it was the worse but it was in the top 3. I was devastated by that. By 9 I had started with anxiety attacks. There was no words or talk of that condition. By 25 I moved out of state & the anxiety attacks got really bad. But then you started hearing commercials on tv about drugs for this condition. They would say the signs & symptoms on the commercials. I diagnosed myself at that point. The inner fear was so deep it would come out in physical ways. Shaking, vibrating, hard time breathing etc. but I refused antidepressants. That's all they were dispensing for anxiety in the beginning. She wasn't going to take me to a doctor for it. She wasn't going to let me tell on her. But all kids got spankings back then. Different time.
Geez. I’m so sorry. How awful for you 🥺
When I got bigger than my stepmother, I grabbed her arm while her fist was coming at my face and calmly told her that if she ever hit me again, I was gonna knock her the fk out and the beatings stopped that night. Until then, I was this sweet little girl who just took it, so the shock on her face was really satisfying.
Similar situation with me. My step mom would beat us at the drop off a hat. She’d use whatever she could pick up the fastest. One night I took her chosen implement away from her and told her simply “NO!” She never tried again. Now, in her old age, she wonders why us kids never come around.
Now, in her old age, she wonders why us kids never come around.
This is a common statement.
I wonder if they really wonder, or if they tell their friends that they just don’t know, because they don’t want the friends to know how horrible they are.
I can totally relate. Mine used whatever she could grab too but she also used her fists. I cut her off a long time ago. I don't even want to be reminded of what happened in that house. Had she evolved or even apologized, it would be a different story, but she didn't, so I'm good without her.
I’m so sorry, no child deserves this. I worked as a Social Woker in Long Term Care for many years. When some of those Residents didn’t have visitors, I knew exactly why. They were mean, abusive parents. You reap what you sow, that’s for sure. I wish you many blessings. 🩷
True. My parents have grandkids that live within 5 miles of them that never go to visit. It’s quite sad but like you said they reap what they sow. I live about 400 miles away. I left town and never looked back once I joined the military. I’m now 64 years old.
Same, except I didn't promise to retaliate. I just said it was going to be the last time she did that .
Bullies are just scared people taking their anger out on smaller weaker people! Once someone stands up to them, they stand down!
Stand up to them? No. It wasn't until my mom told me I needed to start spanking my kids that I explained to her how it felt to be spanked out of anger or if I hadn't done anything. Spanking is lazy parenting in my opinion. I learned to take things away from my kids that they wanted, TV, video games, toys, bikes, treats, play time, etc from an early age. Sometimes I'd withhold punishment and tell them I had to think about what I was going to do, the waiting was punishment in itself. My oldest was diagnosed with autism at 7 and was a tough kid, I was glad I'd chosen patience over spanking.
Spanking is lazy parenting in my opinion.
100%. I always ask parent who hit their kids why they would choose to hit when there are lots of other things to try. Most of them default to "it worked for me". It's sad to see how many people internalized that violence is necessary for people to learn to act correctly.
It's also sad when people think that they deserved it and that nothing else would work for them. Honestly, if you're so out of control that you have to be physically hurt to be redirected there's something else going on. That's a cry for help. But we equate everything to good kids vs bad kids, and that's not true. Kids need love, support and structure, not everyone gets it and the lack of it shows up in many different ways.
Same. My parents slapped, spanked and whipped with belts. And other stuff that was super cruel. They often seemed to be on a power trip, actually. Even though I knew I wouldn't treat my kids that way, it didn't come up in my mind as "abuse" until they tried to treat my kids that way. I put up an immediate, harsh and firm boundary.
And same. All of my kids are on the spectrum and I'm so glad I raised them the way I did. They're adults now and we have amazing relationships. When I tell them stories of my childhood they're shocked. And there's no doubt in my mind they would've gone no contact before they were out of the house lol. They're strong people and wouldn't have tolerated abuse, even as kids.
Whenever I hear from other parents about their adult children having gone no-contact and they don't understand why, I always think that the children had good reason. I never say this to the parents, of course. I sympathize with them and say I'm sorry for the situation, because it is sad.
My father often repeated, "I am so lucky that one of my children call me nearly every single day."
And usually they say they don’t know why despite the child giving them all the reasons. They just don’t want to hear it or they deny their child’s experience.
I do the same as you. Shake my head, don’t respond much or say I’m sorry that must be tough. My cousin has estranged his mother, told her why, and said he will only meet her for coffee if she gets therapy for anger management. My aunt talks to me about it and says “I don’t know why he did what he did, I offered to get a coffee with him to talk, just a coffee, but he doesn’t want to.” Selective memory on his qualifier for her seeking therapy in order to be open to a relationship with her.
At the same time this does make me think, maybe it is because you never treated them that way that you feel they would not accept it. You raised them well!
I think my son on the spectrum would be very different if I'd have spanked or hit him. My youngest has bipolar disorder, again, can you imagine hitting him or simply treating him like he's a bad kid? He'd be in jail.
Or dead. My ex had bipolar and was abused as a kid. He never did figure life out and ended it at 44. Incredibly sad because without abuse, maybe he would've had a chance. On the other hand, a son also has bipolar, and was raised with gentle parenting techniques, and lots of love. He's still alive, but doesn't treat the illness and isn't handling life very well at all. But he's alive. Bipolar is hard. Sparkly is hard but bipolar is next level difficult. You're must be a helluva parent dealing with both successfully. :)
Aw thanks! They're amazing kids (now adults) who teach me something new all the time. I'm really lucky.
I was hit with the wrong end of the belt—the buckle—across the face. It obviously left a mark that couldn’t be hidden and drew blood. Had to stay in for a few days. I think they realized they were out of control & could get in serious trouble for their abuse. I was never hit again—age 12 or 13. (I never knew what I did wrong—was always targeted by my dad. My younger sibling was ignored but untouched by our dad. Older siblings were male & too big to hit plus were never home. Mom did nothing—just let it happen. Wanted to live anywhere but there. Broke the chain, raised my own kids much differently. I’m doing okay today. Some people just shouldn’t be parents.)
Having been raised by a mom who was raised like you, I’m in awe. It was hard for my mom, and she struggled with her temper and anger (really, we realized later, untreated depression), so I imagine it was tempting to give into sometimes. I have so much respect and love for you parents who respond to your own abuse by choosing love and refusing to go to the dark side.
Having been raised by a mom who was raised like you, I’m in awe. It was hard for my mom, and she struggled with her temper and anger (really, we realized later, untreated depression), so I imagine it was tempting to give into sometimes. I have so much respect and love for you parents who respond to your own abuse by choosing love and refusing to go to the dark side.
Edit: I also have an “inherited” temper from her and worked hard to rein it in for my kids, to make the cycle weaker with each turn of the wheel.
Do you still see them? Do you let your kids see them?😮
They’ve both passed away; was very careful about my kids being in their presence. They were actually good grandparents except for things they’d say once in a while. We’d see them about once a week for a few hours. If dad started drinking, we left. My kids have good memories of their grandparents, but they did notice the occasional odd things they’d say and sometimes their treatment of me (markedly different than how they were with my brothers & their families). It’s all mostly in the past now.
I never did because I was pretty obedient but my little sister at age 13 slapped my mother in the face when she went to hit her. My mother was afraid of her for the rest of her life.
Your sister sounds like a badass
Understatement of the year
I was 13. My mom used to beat the shit out of me. Spent a year in foster care because of it but returned because “family reunification”. She came at me one day and I was simply done. Ended up in a full on fist fight with my mom. It ended when I was on top of her with my hands around her neck and saw the fear in her eyes. Got up, told her if she ever laid a hand on me again I’d probably kill her. She never raised her hand to me again. That whole thing fucked with my head for years, therapy helped me deal with that and all of her bullshit. One of, but not the only, reasons I chose to never have kids. No regrets.
Dad started to take his belt off, I’m about 11 and I just said “No”
I don’t know if he was shocked because I finally said something, but he stopped.
He died when I was 15, that’s my most lasting memory of him.
I told my father that the next time he put his hands on me, I would call CPS.
Not for myself (he wouldn’t have cared), and not for the hitting (they wouldn’t have cared).
For my two younger sisters, and for his crack addiction.
He never touched me again.
It turns out that a raging teenager who is very nearly as big as you and has access to sports equipment like baseball bats can make himself a credible threat when pushed too far. We worked it out peacefully after that lol.
The thing with me is my rage came out against others, never my mom who was abusing me. Or my brother who had molested me. I didn't take shit from anyone else. I never bullied anyone either but if someone thought they could pick on me, they found out real quick that it wasn't going to happen. I was soon thought of as the girl to leave alone and that was fine with me. I didn't want to fight. I just wanted to be happy.
My parents rarely used this kind of punishment with me but sometimes it did happened. One time around 13 or 14 I put my arm up just to block my mom from slapping me. My dad saw. He flew into a rage, grabbed me by the back of my neck and dug in, maneuvered me to and down the porch steps, sidewalk, all the way to the car. The whole time yelling at me that I'm never to raise a hand to my mother, it didn't matter that I wasn't hitting her just blocking, I don't defend myself either, and no wonder her friends think I'm such a bitch.
Spoiler: Neither of my parents remember this happening so therefore it never happened! Weeeeeee!
I'm sorry. I believe you.
I had a lot of imagination in my childhood I was told. I grew up in foster care and every time I’d try to stick up for myself and tell case workers or family what was going on they would say I had an active imagination. Ugh. When I was 12 one of the parents broke my right wrist and it healed wrong. I’m now on disability for it years later because I have no use of it after multiple rebrakes. It’s a constant reminder. My daughter never saw anything like that as she was growing up, no child deserves that. Punishment was making her clean her room for a night and it always worked with no harm given. We are so close even today. That alone was worth being a good parent.
I wrote this to someone else but want to say the same to you:
Having been raised by a mom who was raised like you, I’m in awe. It was hard for my mom, and she struggled with her temper and anger (really, we realized later, untreated depression), so I imagine it was tempting to give into sometimes. I have so much respect and love for you parents who respond to your own abuse by choosing love and refusing to go to the dark side.
Edit: I also have an “inherited” temper from her and worked hard to rein it in for my kids, to make the cycle weaker with each turn of the wheel.
Yep. Never happened. Everything is fine.
I just commented before seeing this, and I got the "raise a hand" bullshit when I defended myself as well.
I believe you. So sorry.
It happened. They chose not to remember because it's not important to them. I believe you!
My parents spanked and hit the older children with a belt, but I was the sixth child and the only one born after they got the message from Dr. Spock in the 60's that maybe physical punishment wasn't helpful in raising a child. Therefore, I was the only kid not hit. They genuinely just wanted to raise kids well and before me they thought that the only way to raise a good kid was to spank them. Once they got the message that it wasn't necessary, they stopped.
Same here. I was also the sixth and on the tail end of physical punishment, so it happened, but not that often. The last time it happened I was 12 and my 5’ mother, who was no spring chicken, tried to hit me as punishment and I just stood there stoically. I wasn’t disrespectful, but she got the message that her ability to inflict pain no longer existed.
My parents didn't use corporal punishment, nor did most parents where I grew up. The first time I encountered the entire concept was at my friend Kakie's fifth birthday party. Kakie did something her mother didn't like -- I don't even remember what it was -- and so she started slapping her bottom. I totally freaked out and launched myself at her, screaming at her to stop hurting Kakie. Kakie's parents called my mom to come and take me home.
On the way home, my mother had to explain "spanking" to me. I was utterly shocked that such a thing was even legal.
Sadly, I doubt that my four-year-old fury in any way dissuaded Kakie's mom from ever doing it again.
On her birthday too, that sucks. That mom is an asshole!
Were you and Kakie still friends afterwards?
We were, although not for long. Once we started school, we went separate ways. We weren't in the same class, for one thing, and for another...well, I was That Weird Kid who was pretty constantly bullied, while she was more socially adept and became popular.
Fortunately, since we weren't in the same class, it wasn't one of those traumatic situations. We just drifted apart.
27 years old, told my father he couldn’t yell in my home, if he needed to yell then leave! And he did, but returned for our Thanksgiving dinner. Never raised his voice around me again.
Had my parents visiting in the fall, I live out of state now. They bicker a lot, always have and it’s almost always my dad starting it and it’s exhausting to be around. It has absolutely been the root cause of my lifelong anxiety struggles. He verbally/emotionally treats my mom like shit and I honestly don’t understand how she’s been with him for so long. Anyway, he started to go on about something super trivial, ragging on my mom of course, I immediately and calmly but sternly said “hey, we are absolutely NOT doing this in my house”. (Of course I said “we” bc I am still weak and struggle to call him out directly). He stopped immediately, tossed his hands in the air a lil bit and grumbled quietly to himself for a second but he did shut the fuck up after that and seemed to keep himself in check the rest of their short visit. It felt good to do that but in a calm way, like an adult should and to model behavior to them that was never modeled to me. But it really bums me out that my mom has endured it for so long and that he seems to have no respect for her or her emotional wellbeing.
Well done!
She never tried to spank or slap me again. I was 14, taller than her by four inches, and grabbed her by the forearm as she was trying to slap me. She stared at my grip on her forearm, then at me, in disbelief, I think. I let go and walked away. She never tried it again. That's such a cool memory for me! (she was a real slapper).
Not sure if you are aware of this, but "she was a real slapper" means something very different in the UK.
Not aware, dare I google? :)
In UK slang, a slapper is a notoriously promiscuous woman, with very low standards.
First time I called my mom's bluff at around age 8 or 10 or so she just whipped out a gun, flicked off the safety, chambered a round, put her finger on the trigger and pointed it directly at my face and promised me that because she was a cop she could absolutely get away with my murder by claiming I'd committed suicide and everyone would believe her.
I never tested that theory again because I knew it was true. Good ol small town America in the Deep South.
I’m sorry that you know what it feels like to believe you are expendable to your parent.
Wasn't just a 'feels like'
I straight up *was* expendable and unwanted despite being an only child
They never loved me at all and made it abundantly clear on so many levels in soooooo many ways over the years.
Tried so many times to tell teachers and other authority figures what home life was like and what they did to me. Nobody believed me and everyone called me a liar, because 'what kind of a monster threatens an elementary school child with a gun to the face and promises to murder them on a regular basis for their own amusement?'. Hell, most of them were just barely almost as bad as my 'parents' were, too.
CPS even got called once, not sure how, and I told them absolutely everything. Even showed the fingerprint/hand print bruises on my thighs. They did nothing and just left me with them.
So I gave up telling people anything because I found out the hard way that nobody believed me simply because she was a cop and he was a politician.
I was being regularly beaten by my aunt between 8-11. In the 5th grade, we took D.A.R.E. I liked the cop - his name was Kevin. She beat me for opening a window in my bedroom (we did not have air conditioning). She was so ritualistic about it, as well. She made me bring her the paddle and told me to bend over and grab my ankles; I remember being so scared that she was going to put the paddle inside of me like my mom's boyfriend used to put things inside me when he felt I needed to be punished. She didn't, though, so I guess that's the silver lining. She was a fat woman, about 5'9'' and 200lbs, and she used all of her strength to hit me with that birch paddle. I remember being able to take 3 licks, and then I ran because it hurt so much. I could feel the blood on my ass as I ran away, holding it. She chased me, swinging the paddle and making contact with my head, back, and genitals. I finally tripped on something and fell on my face, and she jumped on me and pummelled my head with her rings. She then screamed at me something about being molested because I had the window open and then spat in my face.
My sister and I walked the 1/2 mile to the bus stop, and I was crying. We had D.A.R.E. that day. I told the cop what happened. My testicles were swollen to about double or triple their size, I had blood stains on my underwear, and my head was swollen. I told the cop, Kevin, my teacher Mrs. Patton, the Principle, Mr. Trotter, and the Vice Principle, Mr. Dill - I even showed Mr. Trotter and Kevin my swollen genitals and bruises that had already formed on my back and butt.
They told me not to disobey and sent me home. This was 1994/5-ish. This is one of the main reasons I loathe women; I will never trust the Police, and why I think educators are the lowest form of human. The narrative around their infallibility or desire/charge to protect is a complete myth. I was a child. There is nothing I could have done that would deserve that. I got treated more harshly than that 10-year-old in Ohio who killed that baby because she was bored.
They finally stopped beating me when I was 13, I guess. I remember the last time any of them tried to hit me. I was 14, and my grandpa picked up a chain to beat me. As he walked toward me, I grabbed what I could – a hoe. I told him, "Go ahead and do it," and raised it up, ready to respond to the chain. No one ever tried to hit me again.
I am so deeply sorry everyone failed you in such a disgusting way. I hope you're doing okay now.
I appreciate this. It never goes away, though. I'm still hyper vigilant, untrusting, and always have my guard up. But, I live alone and don't have to depend on anyone, and I have no fear of death.
He's not doing ok. He loathes women and can't trust anyone in authority.
I don't trust anyone in authority and am hypervigilant for very similar reasons. I didn't get saddled with the loathing women part, for which I am grateful.
But I'm going to advocate for that other poster here and say that like me, he's probably okay because not-OK is something we know intimately. Mistrust of authority and a little adult paranoia are OK in contrast.
I'm so sorry. *hugs*
I hope you are in a better calmer space now, you deserve love and caring and kindness.
This makes me feel so angry, heartbroken, and sick for you. You poor thing. You did everything you were supposed to do and every single adults let you down.
It’s just not supposed to be that way. I hope you found the love you deserve elsewhere.
((Hugs, pending consent.))
Geez, cops …
Horrific
I beat the shit out of my father….i was 18. He kicked me in the back of the head down the stairs….again. To many horrible memories of that (now deceased) asshole. I kicked the shit out of him three years later too. Felt good. GenX for reference. No regrets.
Here's my story. More than you asked for but it's important to know: the cycle of abuse can be broken.
Calling them on it only meant we got beat harder and suffered worse punishment. They called them "beatins" until they realized they could get in trouble for that and started calling them spankins'.
But we also got beat harder if we cried.
We got beat harder if we instinctively put our hands up to protect ourselves. While beating, they'd also yell to put our hands down or they will break them. This wasn't punishment. It was them taking their rage and frustrations out on us and trying to do as much harm as possible.
Until the fateful morning I got on the school bus and it was obvious I had been hit in the face and had been crying. My mother had done the beating that day. Someone reported it to the school and authorities reached out to my parents. They were livid. Especially my Dad. He threatened to do worse than the typical beatings and came at me multiple times and I just stood there waiting to see if he'd follow through. My siblings were all in the room along with my mom. When they screamed at me for reporting it, I was clear, I did not report it. Someone on the bus could tell I had been hit and reported it. I figured he was either going to kill me right then and there or beat me so bad I'd be removed from the home and I was ready. Now that people knew it was happening, I knew he'd have consequences finally. I stood my ground, first time ever. I let him come at me and I did.not.flinch. I was scared to death but something seriously changed that day with our dad. He never hit me though he had his belt and was hitting everything around me. He never hit any of us again. Thank you whoever you were who reported the abuse!
My Dad sort of redeemed himself before he died fairly young. My mother never stopped hitting me. I didn't see her hit any of the other kids after that day, and she only hit me when no one else was around, after that. I do know she was still hitting my older sister, even after she moved out because she told me so. Our mom was still hitting me when I would visit home, well into my 20's. It wasn't the beatings anymore, just a spontaneous backhand or open hand slap, when I spoke up, told the truth, or she was unhappy about something. She didn't stop until I got married. I moved very far away and have been no contact with her for a long time now.
As Ms Taylor Swift sings:
Someday I'll be, living in a big old city, and all you're ever gonna be is mean
Someday I'll be big enough so you can't hit me, and all you're ever gonna be is mean....and a liar...and pathetic...
I’m so sorry that happened to you. You’re amazingly strong. I’m glad you know you deserved and still deserve better. ((Hugs, pending consent.))
Thank you. As an adult, due to the prolonged childhood abuse, I was diagnosed with C-PTSD. It was a lot of hard work with a great Psychologist and Psychiatrist that helped me finally heal.
Mine didn’t, and I’m 72. Never hit my kids either.
The children I knew who never were hit turned out so much more mature and calm compared to cousins who received corporal punishment.
My experience too. People who were hit and punished physically always seem to me to be too aggressive and have anger problems. I tend to move away from people like this.
I have pretty serious anger and aggression problems and I was hit as a kid. I also used to physically fight with my sisters and other kids. Not looking forward to a few years from now when my parents will try to give me parenting advice I won't take lol
Yes. That sounds exactly like what i have experienced.
This is my experience, too.
This is for sure. I am not calm and am incredibly immature. Most of my life is not as serious as my childhood, but it's like my body remembers things, and I get super defensive. I decided never to have kids years ago because I don't trust myself. It is hard to have a pet because of my rage issues. I love my little dog, but when I can't control his behavior, the rage bubbles up in me, and I have to leave him alone and calm down before I correct him or train him.
Big points on self-awareness, friend. That’s a loving thing you do for your dog, and yourself, really.
((Sending hugs, pending consent.))
Also, here’s my favorite mood-shifting tool. It may not help in a rage, but it helps me when I’m having trouble getting out of an angry thought loop and it only takes 2.5 mins: Fuck That: An Honest Meditation.
Edit: meant to say: I’m sorry that happened to you.
thank you for the kind words. I will listen to this meditation for sure.
What happened to the people who you had to grow up with? hopefully dead now
At 16, I stopped my Dad by grabbing the belt in mid strapping. I was bigger than him by then and while I accepted that they could punish me for wrongdoing, that they needed to find another way. As an aside I always preferred physical punishment from my dad to having my mother yell at me, that would go on forever.
OMG YES. My mother lectured me endlessly. I would stare at the bridge of her nose so it looked like I was paying attention and space out in my head.
omg I used to do this too! I totally forgot about that. I would sing songs(in my head) or try to recall the plot of my favorite movie, anything to drown out the sound.
Fucking endless lectures were definitely a specialty of my mother, besides the random capricious hits . Over anything and nothing. For getting a "B" grade while my younger brother was coddled while getting Cs/Ds/Fs.
I was 16. Mum went to hit me and I grabbed her wrist and said “Next time you hit me, I hit back.” That was the end of it but she was so upset. Hahaha.
At 19 my dad was doing the index finger poking the sternum thing to me and I turned it around and started doing to him. Told him if he ever hit me or the other kids again I was going to beat the shit out of him. Fear covered his face and he told me to settle down. He never did that again because I wasn't kidding.
I felt that. Got the same poking thing. Very glad you stood up to him, although I wish you weren't in that position in the first place, I'm sorry you experienced that.
My dad was a boxer. Fucking terrifying man. Nobody ever scared him. Well, he better hope death comes quick because if he's ever in a wheelchair or bedridden - defenseless as a child, I'm going to be there with bells on. And a thick leather belt.
My mom grabbed me by my hair to make me go to my room, in front of her friend, I looked down at her, my fist curled up and she must have seen the blood in my eye because she let go, and never did it again, plus she quit slapping the other younger kids. She wasn't even the violent one. No wonder we left as soon as we legally could.
My father regularly hit my mom in the face when he was mad and beat my brother too, once with a 2x4.
When I was five, I asked my dad why his teeth were yellow not white - or something rude and dumb like a kid would say - and he slapped my face so hard you could see a handprint bruise for days afterwards. I stood my ground, after wobbling a bit from the blow, and said, “go ahead, do it again, I’d love to leave this house” (because at the time I had godparents I thought would take me in). He was shocked and he never hit me again.
Sadly, my godfather, who was a doctor, and his wife, my godmother, dropped out of our lives. I later found out that he got tired of patching up my mom’s face. We lived in a rural area where no one could hear what was happening.
I often wonder if we would have been taken away from our parents if we’d lived in a neighborhood or apartment complex. I so desperately did not want to live with them and remember very clearly wishing someone would help. But I didn’t know anything and it was way before the internet and even 911 and it was all so shameful.
All these decades later, I have a very stylized weekly telephone call relationship with each of my parents, who after 51 years, finally divorced.
I also have a standing weekly call with my brother; he often cancels. He finally just told me last month that he blocked most of what happened in our childhood out. I understand and have compassion for him in that regard because he really did take the brunt of a lot of it because he was older. I’m just glad he doesn’t hit his kids. They’re grown now and nice guys.
I don’t live in the same time zone as any of them and not one of my immediate family members has ever been to my current house. I don’t invite them and they don’t ask. I used to try to visit them individually sometimes but it’s really draining and I have to have my guard up so much. I may never see them in person again. It’s all very weird.
I once talked to my therapist about going no contact and she said that it’s often harder to do that than to just really structure the relationships in a way you can handle.
Lately I’ve been having dreams where I’m at one of the funerals of my parents and I’m standing up in front attempting to deliver my prepared eulogy and the only thing that comes out of my mouth is, “thank God that’s over.”
I’m sorry you’re having those bad dreams but at the same time feel like maybe it’s kind of a healthy way to process? Don’t know if that makes sense.
The only time my dad ever hit me I was playing with fire, so pretty much deserved it. My mom liked to punch me in the shoulder, but I was a very big kid, and all I really remember about her hitting me was being amused she was hurting herself more than she hurt me.
Now, on the other hand, my mom's psychological terrorism was pretty damn effective.
15 to my mum 17 to my dad
Always shocked by those people on Reddit who say they will hit their kids if they want and it never hurt them.
In a work place if you hit somebody because they were wrong you’d most likely get a slap back but expect to be fired, so why hit people you love.
Never hit my adult kids or shouted at my wife. We’ve literally never had a row in our house, why the need…. There isn’t one and I have a very balanced family and people always comment how calm, caring and controlled they all are in tough situations.
Never happened.
Never did it to my own kids tho.
I told my father that if he ever hit me again, it would be the last time he ever saw me. I meant it. I believe that my mother enforced it. I was 26.
Lol.
He never hit Mom, but he'd bully her and yell in her face. I was about 12 when I decided that was enough. I just rushed him at full steam and put a shoulder into his ribs.
Mom didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "You know he'd never be dumb enough to swing at me. You - he'll kill you. Run. Don't come home before he leaves for work at 11 tonight."
I avoided him for a week, and he never got in Mom's face after that. He did go after my little brothers a few times, so I did catch my lumps. He knew hitting me was just a job he did. I wasn't going to abide by his demands anymore, but he didn't know any other way to feel like he was still in control.
My parents were pretty progressive and liberal for the early 1970s (they had been "coffeehouse folkies" and even my granny had been an old-school Spanish Civil War donation-sending lefty), and I was never spanked myself, but I got screamed at and sent home the first time I saw a friend (we were both about six) get spanked by his dad (who was kind of a rageoholic prick, even looking back as an adult) and freaked out, yelling "what are you doing?!? Stop that!!!"
The last time my mother raised her fist to me was the day I raised mine back at her. She did it in front of her 'church friend's child, who audibly gasped. She was more worried about what they thought of her than my nose, that she'd broken more than once. My offense at the time was we were talking too loud. In my room. With the door closed. 2 16 year old girls were guilty of...talking.
I would have been happy if my father “only” slapped me. He hit . He kicked .He screamed . He threw me into walls . And when he wasn’t doing those things, he punched with a closed fist .
The last time he did this was at a dinner at his house, just before a family reunion. A group of relatives were already at his house. I have culinary training, so I had made dinner, and I was hand-washing the dishes because he didn’t have an automatic dishwasher. My father thought I was using too much water to rinse the dishes. He had openly criticized me in front of the relatives while I was cooking, and I was done with the criticism. I turned the faucet off, told him I was done, and he could finish washing his dishes.
My father grabbed the leftover food and threw it at me, rubbing it into my face, my hair and my clothes; grabbed me and knocked me down, and started kicking me; grabbed plates and started breaking them one by one over my head.
The relatives did nothing . I got out of the house and started walking home (which was over on the other side of town).
Two days later, I received a bill from my father for the broken dishes. I gave notice where I worked, contacted an apartment locator in a city 1200 miles away and put down a deposit on an apartment, contacted a mover, and was boxing up all my stuff. I contacted a temp agency in my new city so I could have an income while searching for permanent work. The following week I moved without letting anyone in my family know I had moved, and leaving no forwarding address.
It was 15 years before I went back home, again — and then I stayed at my sister’s house, but never at his house.
He died in 2012. On the two times I have visited his grave, I have felt — nothing . I plan to be buried in a different cemetery from him, just to maintain some distance between us.
Fuck him and those other people for letting that happen. I’m glad you’re strong but that’s rough.
Sorry your dad was crazy, but REALLY sorry that your whole extended bloodline were cowards.
Last time it happened I was 16. I didn’t speak to my dad for like 9 months.
Not me but my best friend in high school. She and her two sisters (1 about 2 years older, 1 about 1 year younger) showed up at my house unexpectedly. They told me that they had been arguing with their dad and one of the kicked him in the balls and they ran. My house was the safe place.
My parents got involved and diffused the situation and they eventually went home but it was hairy for a few hours
When I was 25 and mom started wailing on me yet again, I grabbed her wrists and said hell no, no more. Talked her through wtf was her problem; jealousy—- she hated sharing me. I had 2 kids and my whole life I let her wail on me cuz I knew she would feel better after. Dam. Never hit my kids; hitting children is very fuked up.
The final time-ish, sorta, I was 9. I had taken too long to clean the kitchen. I was in the kitchen, just had been taking too long to clean it; she wanted me to be done “making noise” by the time her shows were on TV. So she slapped me, as I was unloading the dishwasher. I asked her if that was what made her feel good about herself, slapping kids as they tried their best. At the time I thought what I had said made an impact on her, but I’m thinking now that her show probably started so she went to go watch TV.
I cut contact for 8 years, and only spoke with one aunt. She told them I had a child, and then they wanted to see my baby. They treated me better than ever in my life because they wanted contact with my daughter. My mother finally treated me like a human and not a target, but I always let her know if she talked me down in front of my child, or if she did not follow my no hitting, must have meals on time and not starve the child kind of parenting, we would not stick around.
She let my brother, the Golden Child, scare my daughter when she was little. I did not go to her home for a year. She ended up having a stroke, he overdosed, and I became her caretaker.
As soon as she was incapicated, the others disappeared after trying to see if she had any money. She didn't.
She did not want me and used me as her whipping post, but she ended up with me.
I figured my child had a better grandparent than my mother had been with her other grandchildren, and I finally felt some things had been put right.
You are a better person than I. I would never have let that mess around my child. Nor would I have taken care of her. She’d been in a nursing home. She better be thanking the angels you were her kid instead of me I guess lol
Well thanks, bit she was the only living grandparent and I had little support. She bent over backwards and apologized sort of, one time.
She died in 2019 and had dementia. I moved out of state in 2013 when it was mild to moderate, knowing she would end up in a facility.
I learned to take care of myself.
Both my mom and stepdad were into corporal punishment, dealt capriciously.
I got spanking with hands from my stepfather and random strikes from wooden spoons and those thick plastic '70s hairbrushes from my mother, along with face slaps. She actually broke her favorite heavy hairbrush in two hitting my leg one time.
I was probably 17 or so when my mother went to slap my face and I put my forearm up to protect myself. Always the gaslighter, she said "DO NOT RAISE YOUR HAND TO ME!!!," knowing fully well it was a defensive move, not an offensive one. I replied "You will NEVER hit me again," and stared her down. She never hit me again.
I didn't. There was no need. They never struck me in anger and they stopped at an appropriate age. I was not scarred or damaged--physically, emotionally, or in any other way--by corporal punishment. I know that's inconceivable to people with a certain mindset, but it's true.
I wish my dad was like your parents. My dad wasn't a terrible person by any means, but he turned into an old southern plantation owner whenever I displeased him any significant amount.
I've been whipped on my bare or underwear covered butt with a switch until I had raised red welts everywhere. I've been slapped so hard that I literally saw stars. I've been threatened with being knocked to the floor if I didn't shut up during an argument.
It got pretty bad for a while.
That's terrible and I'm sorry.
Here is a hug for your younger self. ((((((((((hug))))))))))))
I'm sorry you went through this but abuse is abuse and your example is quite clear. Abusers don't abuse 24/7. Your Dad must've really enjoyed control.
As with PTSD, under the same conditions, some will develop it, and some won't. Sounds like you might have been in the group that did not develop any issues. It certainly doesn't mean every child should be treated that way.
I am not saying corporal punishment necessarily damages a child. I just cannot imagine hitting my small child for any reason. All my kids turned out great. Some people who were hit by their parents seem almost proud of it.
When I was 4-5 years old, we were living in a basement apartment in Boulder, Colorado. At breakfast one morning, my dad kept whacking the back of my head to try and make me eat the scrambled eggs on my plate, which were not dry enough for me. About the third time he started to do this, I anticipated the blow and jerked my head out of the way, with the unfortunate consequence that I smashed my face into the plate, starting to bleed from my forehead.
My dad never tried that kind of punishment again.
My mom was beating my 21 year old sister and 19 years old me had enough. Sister was in college, an adult, still living at home because that was the deal my parents made us. if you go to college you get to stay at home with no rent or bills. I just snapped and restrained my mother from beating sis. I was 6 in shorter and easily 50 lb. Less weight than her, but I was strong. Later when my black belt father got home I got another beating. I was secretly dating my now husband, and it was that incident that helped us push on with marriage plans. I did tell her at grandfather's funeral that she would never see me again, and she didn't. That was in 1988, she died in 2022 and I had kept my promise to her.
Good for you. I’m glad you found the love you deserved in you life! ❤️
My mother smacked me in the mouth one day because I said something she didn't like. It was far from the first time, but this time, I was bigger than she was. I pushed her up against the wall and said, "Look, Mom, I didn't want to hurt you, but never hit me again."
She was terrified. When my father got home he grabbed me by the throat and slammed me into the wall and my feet were slightly off the floor. He told me he'd kill me if I ever laid a hand on my mother again. I believed him FWIW.
But my mother never did hit me again. I guess she didn't want to be responsible for my father murdering me.
The first time I told my stepfather “no” he punched me in the face.
After a lifetime of horrendous physical, emotional and verbal abuse, at 18 I stood up to my mother and her reaction was that I needed to die. She tried to strangle me to death. She is much taller and heavier than I was, still is, and i couldn't get away, my life was literally fading in front of me. Luckily she tried this at the top of the stairs so I threw myself backwards and we both went down the stairs. I got up and ran away for a few days. That was the beginning of the end of our relationship.
User name checks out. Holy fuck.
I’m glad you’re still here. I hope you have love in your life. ❤️🩹
Thank you. I do have a lot of love in my life, my mother has been out of it for over a decade.
I never did, because my older brother did. My bedroom was next to his and I was coming back inside from roller skating, about age 10. My brother was about 13, maybe 14. My mother was standing in the hallway between our doors and I froze. She had a belt in her hand and she only spanked when she was angry, and when she was angry, she might find a reason to spank you too. So I froze, thinking about what I could do to be A Good Girl and not get spanked. My brother was in his bedroom, holding the door open. The situation was tense.
My mother got ahold of my brother somehow and tried to spank him. He wiggled out of her grip and took the belt from her. Then he somehow managed to slip into his bedroom, slam the door and lock it before my mother could react.
I unfroze, pretended not to have seen anything, absolutely avoided looking toward my mother, and went into my bedroom. I think I decided to do some chores after I took off my skates, in terror that my mother would target me next.
From then on, I was never spanked, and neither was my older brother. I don't remember whether my younger siblings were spanked after that either. My younger siblings are a little closer to our mother than us older siblings, so I suspect she stopped spanking altogether at that time.
The relationship between my brother and mother was forever damaged. She lost all authority over him and while he was still a good kid (in terms of general behavior), he did as he pleased from then on. If my father stepped up and parented him, I never saw it.
My relationship with my mother was forever damaged by spanking too, but I never had to guts to stand up to her. I kept seeking her approval, affection and attention until I had my own child in 2013. Then the emotions from childhood flooded up and I struggle to forgive her, even though she's apologized repeatedly.
I've held my promise never to strike my child.
I’m so proud of you.
For what it’s worth, being whipped with a belt means you were beaten, not “spanked.”
What happened the very first time that you stood up to your parents and refused to accept that sort of treatment any longer?
My dad knocked me cold. I was out for a couple of minutes.
He did that twice, as far as I know. As soon as I could leave home, I did.
I've never spanked my own daughters, and I've never needed to. I had it written into my divorce agreement that neither of us would ever use corporal punishment.
My dad beat my sister with a belt until she was unconscious. Then he threw a pot of cold water on her to wake her up. This was probably in 1962. She left home at age 14.
After my dad knocked me out, he just left the room.
The first time I stood up to my dad was when I 18. My father started screaming at me for not reading enough books over the summer. I was just coming home from my job. I sarcastically said that I was such a horrible child. He hit me. I instinctively told him not to hit me again. He chased me into the bathroom and started choking ne. My mom cane in the bathroom and pried him off of me taking a couple hits in the process. I got free and ran outside and hid. My parents ended up searching for me outside for a while. It was dark. I ended up approaching my mom after my father gave up looking for me. She convinced ne to come home and when I was 20 feet away from the house, she told me I needed to apologize for upsetting my father.
I spent the majority of my childhood trying to be the perfect child and I would hide under the bed or in the closet when my father was in a bad mood. My older brother stood up to him more and got hit a lot. He just finished his third stay in rehab and will occasionally call me drunk talking about are father. The hard part is when my father was in a good mood, he was really great and loving. He's been gone 20 years now.
My mother went to beat me with a thick wooden dowel with a metal tip while I was pinned on the floor in the corner. Before she could, I looked her in the eye and said “Good! Now you’ve finally chosen something that will leave a big, obvious mark. All the people I’ve told you abuse me will finally believe me. Enjoy jail.” I don’t remember how old. 6th grade maybe. I was faking it - I had long since given up on trying to tell anyone about the abuse - but she didn’t know that.
I was 13 (girl) and both my parents tried to wrestle me down to spank me. A low growl rose up and out of me. Guess my primal brain kicked in. My dad called me crazy and that was the last attempt. I know it wasn't right, but my entire childhood wasn't. I think I spanked my daughter a couple of times when she was little and feel horrible about it now. :( I'm glad it's no longer acceptable.
I aged out of physical punishment maybe in elementary school. Then we got grounded and had to stay in our room and read or do homework. True torture.
Never stood up to them. They stopped when we were around 11-13ish anyway. I think they figured there's an age where it's too old to hit someone and it make sense. Either that or they heard it was bad or something. Because they just stopped. Then my little sister who is 10 years younger never got hit.
The damage was already done. I never disobeyed them or did anything out of turn, not on purpose.
I came at my mom like a line backer when she was trying to stop be from leaving after hitting me. Sorry mom, I miss you. I didn't deserve it but neither did she.
Same here. My step mom mildly physically abusive. One day when I was 16 she went to whip me with a belt for some minor “infraction“. I took the belt away from her and told her “no”. She never tried to hit or spank me again
I was around 6th grade age, my mother was mad at me for something my sister said I did (usually I didn't, I don't know in this case)
She tried to put me over her knee, wooden spoon in hand and I told her if she hit me I would hit her back. I was a healthy, active kid, and strong and tall. I don't think she doubted me for one second.
TBF we were not regularly beaten or physically abused, but getting spanked for doing something particularly bad was not unusual, maybe a few times a year. Not sure where the wood spoon came from, it was never used before, and neither of us was spanked again after that.
Some of you had some really rough childhoods and I am sorry. There are some traumatic stories on here. I think I aged out of spanking probably by 6? I don't remember ever actually getting spanked, more the threat of being spanked. Slapping and smacking was never on the table. For whatever reason, my mom always threatened spanking with her wooden spoons she used for cooking. I remember slyly taking them and hiding them under my bed thinking that she couldn't spank us if she didn't have wooden spoons! She was mystified about where her wooden spoons went when she wanted to use them to cook. I was eventually found out and no, I did not get spanked. I think she was more amused than anything.
With my daughter, I think her dad may have spanked her once, maybe twice when she was probably 3. By spanking, I mean 1, maybe 2 swats on her diaper covered butt. (she resisted potty training so was in diapers far longer than most kids) I couldn't bring myself to do it. Like my own family, there was far more threatening about "bun whoopins" for her than actually ever happened.
I was never spanked. But mom would slap me and throw things at me. Spit on me. I lost respect for her in middle school. So I slapped her right back and threw what she threw at me right back. She lost her sh*t even more. House became WWIII everyday after that. She didn’t change. I just spent less and less time with her. Hence, no contact.
After the last time my father hit me, I told him to never do it again. The next time he tried, I fought back. My mother had to get between us. Thankfully, for both of us, he never tried again.
He only ever hit me less than a dozen times, and we got along well other than that. But he definitely could be a bit of a bully at times. Like a lot of bullies, he moved on to another target when he was stood up to. When my older sister stood up to him, he moved on to me. When I stood up to him, he moved on to my younger brother. When my younger brother stood up to him, he was out of kids. By then, he had had 2 heart attacks, which mellowed him out a lot. We only ever got hit with slaps and sometimes fists--never with any objects. And there always was a reason. We did something--it was never because we looked at him funny or because he was drunk or just because. I never felt like I was abused. We could have had it a lot worse. But we could have had it better too.
He has since expressed regret for the times he hit us, which is good--he should regret it. I certainly regret it. Oddly, his parents didn't hit him or his brothers, so it wasn't generational. And he wasn't a violent person otherwise. I never once heard a story of him being in a fight, even as a child.
We never had that moment, because it was rare and stopped by the time I was 8 or 10. I roll my eyes when I think about it, and I think they could have handled discipline differently, but I don’t consider it a trauma or anything that I’ve carried with me.
You know, I'm 68 and no one I knew growing up ever got whacked around.
The only circumstances in which my mum thought physical punishment was necessary or ok was strictly a toddler trying to do something dangerous because they didn’t know any better, where a quick swat on the rear would stop the behaviour. I’m talking about making a game out of repeatedly trying to run into traffic, that sort of thing.
I still don’t disagree with her assessment but find it odd that people think we were all beaten regularly or something.
I think because you usually only hear about the ones that were . No one talks about the normal childhoods. I see the stories on here and I’m amazed, it’s like a different world than I grew up in thankfully. I had a happy childhood.
At 48 years old my dad came at me when I told him I was getting a divorce. He backed down but I was super scared.
Why...?
I got smacked, slapped, and spanked. Then I got grounded.
It always makes me wonder what the parents are thinking when they “punish” their kids that way… I’d never think of hitting my kid ever.
The hitting slowed down when we were teens, but when I was 25 and a peifessional at work, my mom flew in for a visit and as I was driving her to the airport she got mad that I remembered something differently than she did and she reared her hand back to hit me- as I was driving on the freeway, and I just said in a calm, professional tone, Are you really gonna hit me??? And she stopped.
I think I got the confidence from being treated so respectfully at work, and having been living across the country from my toxic family for a few years had made me see the dysfunction more clearly.
My parents found me more amusing than annoying. We didn’t hit or yell at each other.
I got the belt and paddle. At home, at school and even at Sunday school. I usually deserved it as I was a trouble maker. My wife forbid any physical punishment for kid or dog. Good choice.
I was raised by my grandma. She spanked me until I was 12. At that age I was bigger than her and able to overpower her.
My mom was spanking me with a wooden spoon and it broke so I started laughing and that was the end of that.
My mother slapped me in the face my entire life, she stopped at 18. She's a narcissist and I obviously wasn't the golden child. She took her own shame out on me.
My dad whipped me with a belt and left black and blue whelps on me. I had to go to school that way and other students asked me what happened. Even made me go get the belt. As a result, I swore to never use a belt on my children and I didn’t. When my dad’s health started declining in his latter years he told me he was sorry and I forgave him to make him feel better even though I still hated the fact that he punished me that way. RIP you bastard.
I was 18, and we were driving back from Lake Tahoe.
We were with my boyfriend and best friend. I wanted to ride home in my friend’s car, and my father wanted for me to ride home with him. He broadside full on hard slapped me on the face, I flew back a bit, and my boyfriend caught me, We ran to my friends car, and I spent the night at her house.
My mother cried calling, and my firends mother told her I was there.
When I returned home they never laid a hand on me again.
I moved out at 20 to transfer colleges.
I got spanked until I was 8 or 9. Even as a kid, I knew I deserved it and it wasn’t like my parents just got mad and did it, there were lines I had to keep crossing. It was rare. I was never punched or slapped.
The people who beat their kids… these assholes are beating their kids right this second. The difference is that there’s a much better chance the police/CPS will do something if it’s reported. You’d have to beat a kid pretty bad in 1976 for anyone to do anything.
You’d have to kill a kid before they’d do anything back then 😐
I never got punished but I was my mom's gopher. She was constantly asking me to get her this or that, and like a little lap dog I would obey. When I was 30 I finally said NO. She asked me to go get her cigarettes in the other room, I said no....it was a growing moment.
Most of these comments are not about being spanked, they are about being beat by abusive parents. Spanking is not that.
We were seldom spanked, and it was never done when my parents were angry. They would wait until they were calm and the heat of the moment were was past. We'd then be talked to and spanked only by hand, and only enough to sting. We learned that actions have consequences, sometimes painful ones.
I can only recall being spanked once or twice, it was very rare and usually I had done something dangerous to deserve it.
What I see described here, is not that.
My neighbor smacked his young son for running close to the edge of their pool after being told numerous times not to. The brat spat, "I'll call CPS!" The dad laughed and said, "Go ahead, they'll take you away and I stay here with the pool, the air conditioning and all the games." 😂
I was spanked a handful of times at home and at school. I was a very sensitive kid. To this day when I mess up, my butt will literally tingle and go numb in anticipation of a paddling.
Hitting kids - it just should’ve never EVER been a thing.
I never had that experience.
As a kid, spankings were mostly reserved for things that could have fatal consequences (running into traffic, playing with dad's power tools, carelessness near water or on boats, sticking a fork in an electric outlet.) My brother and I both had a great relationship with mom & dad.
As a dad, I took the same approach. My girls were early verbal communicators, so spankings were hardly ever necessary. Now that they are adults we visit and talk frequently (often daily).
I was 12. My mother took off her shoe and tried to spank me with it. I walked in a slow circle around her as she got in a few feeble whacks. I was looking down on her nest of prickly hairdo curlers and couldn't resist the urge, so I gently patted her on the head. Tap-tap-tap. She looked up at me, her misbehaving daughter, and the moment our eyes met, we both burst out laughing.
That was the last time she tried to spank me, but my relief was for her rather than for myself. She was just so ridiculously bad at it.
Ok this is a tale of a mom who spanked because that's what she was raised/taught to believe was what you had to do to raise a good kid. Not because of power trips. That's why she was bad at it lol, and quit when the jig was up. She didn't really want to in the first place
What should’ve happened was that my Will was respected! A young person’s “no” is very important and should be respected. It was the summer after 5th gade. It had been a terrible year b/c my stepdad had left (he was the nurturing one). Mom left a year after.
Never, I was too afraid. My father used a belt, and if I had stood up to him I shudder to think what would have happened. I never forgave him for that and never, ever laid a hand on my sweet daughter. While it was a shitty thing to go through as a child, it taught me well.
I got spanked several times when I was young, but as I got older my parents did not carry on with it. I probably deserved every single spanking I got and then some. I was a pain in the ass.
My parents stopped spanking around the time I was probably about 8 years old so I never “stood up to them”. They never hit or slapped me anywhere but my butt. With my kids they got lightly spanked or popped on the hand a few times each when they were little for doing things I told them not to do that would have caused harm to themselves or others. Example, don’t pull on the pot handle of boiling water on the stove. Every kid is different and you have to find ways to correct them that works for them. A punishment for my second child is like a reward for my oldest. You have to learn how to parent for each kid you have.
I wasn’t spanked
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