soulwiltedwildflower

[soulwiltedwildflower]

You broke my spirit.

I thought of many ways to start this blog. I settled on sharing a prominent moment in my childhood. That shaped me in ways that I didn't quite understand until I was older.

Stay with me, this is going to get a little complicated. I was 7 years old; my parents had just gotten divorced within that year. My dad was already with another women, my mom's ex best friend. Who he had been having an affair with causing the divorce. (I didn't know about the affair at the time, but I had my suspicions. Since my dad was with her so soon after the divorce, I found it off putting.)

I was wrapping up a weekend visit with my dad, I was waiting on my mom to pick me up. My stepsister and I had lice at the time, or that's what they said anyways. My stepmother who was a former hair stylist decided she was going to cut our hair instead of giving us a lice treatment. She started with my stepsister, her own daughter (We will call her Mae). Mae fought it a bit, she cried, stomped her feet, and pleaded for what felt like 5 minutes before giving in. My stepmother eventually got her to sit on the barstool in the kitchen where she started hacking her hair at uneven lengths, as Mae sat there sobbing.

When my stepmother was done with her it was my turn. I was terrified, the panic was building I didn't want my hair cut I had a goal my growing my hair longer. I remember thinking to myself all I have to do is stall until my mom gets here. Time was moving both to slow and to fast at the same time.

Mae's haircut was finished she was still sobbing in defeat, her hair hacked like a bad pixie cut. It was now my turn. My stepmother pointed at me and then the barstool. I stood there frozen nodding no. My dad telling me "Come on, you have lice it has to be done." I was still frozen nodding no as I couldn't muster up the courage to say anything. Tears start rolling on my cheeks in fear. My stepmother grew more irritated with me, sighing, throwing around her arms. My dad kept repeating "it had to be done." My panic was growing, I could feel my heart beating, as I kept nodding no and backing out of the kitchen. My dad walking towards me as I backed out of the room raised his voice "sit down!" In this moment I realized I couldn't stall anymore.

My dad grabs me by the shoulders and try forcing me in the barstool. I plant my weight on my feet, resisting he push. I start pleading with him "no dad! I don't want my hair cut!" I say as I sobbed. his reply "too bad, you have lice. It has to be done." I as a 7-year-old was eventually overpowered and force into the barstool. I was praying my mom would walk in right now, as I felt so defeated. No one was listening to me. I wasn't going a brat; I genuinely didn't want my hair cut.

My stepmother grabs the scissors. As I pleaded again "No! you can't do this!" I say sobbingly. I tried to get up as she then grabs me by the hair. my dad yells at me "stand still!" I continue to try to leave the situation, but she still has a hold of my hair. She pulled at my hair to effort to get me back on the stool. I made it worse by fighting, she had a tight hold on my hair I was basically ripping my hair out trying to get away from her. She grew impatient and just started cutting my hair as I came pulling away. I continued to fight even though I could hear the scissors snipping. I wasn't until I looked down at the floor and noticed how much of my hair was on the floor that I surrendered. I stopped fighting, stopped trying to get away. I shut down emotionally. I sat there quietly sobbing. Then my mom walked in after all was said and done.

As a child I didn't understand how to put my feeling into words. As an adult I know you took my power away from me. You took me choice away from me. It was nothing more than them exhibiting their power to me, a child. The emotional shutdown was the worst you just feel so defeated, ashamed that you couldn't stand up for myself. I felt so broken and unheard. I don't think I seen my dad a while after that. My mom throws a fit when she walked in, but the damage was already done.

d.m.

Thank you all for reading a part my story.