I will always be heartbroken when I reflect on my past. It was a childhood filled with love however sorrow surrounds each corner of it. I was raised by my mother and my father. I am the only child and to a certain extent I was spoilt with materialistic luxuries, things which hold no value in my memories just aspects which made life easier. My father was a wonderful man, loving, caring, and so funny. He however had a dark deep side of aggression and violence. My mother was small and petite and her voice still calling my name haunts my dreams, as she was locked in her bedroom with ‘him’ my father. I was useless and so young to help, I endured from the age of six repeated counts of physical and verbal abuse. The memory of me being dressed in my Sunday blue dress and straw hat with my adorable red patent shoes my earliest memory of his attack. Reluctant to go to church I remember kicking up a fuss with my mother, I was six years old. My father ran out of his room holding his leather work boot in his hand, he charged me down the stairs, and threw the boot straight at my back, I do not remember anything else except for the feeling of being petrified.
Through the years countless attacks like this happened. I always believed he was to some point jealous of me, I was growing to be a pretty girl in my teenage years, I was doing very well in school and people would always compliment me of my ability to sing and write songs. He suffered dyslexia and left school at fifteen, he never had any aims and goals in fact I still believe today without my mother he would be have no life.
With every bruise I got I always managed to cover up with some story, and even if I had told the truth nobody would believe me, my family were so perfect on the surface. I despised coming home, watching him tear and destroy my school books, breaking my phones and constantly destroying my confidence. His constant verbal abuse calling me fat and ugly made me feel worthless, since thirteen I battled with bulimia and it is still as struggle today. I still to this day will never admit I ever had an eating disorder, it is my belief I was only rebelling against his horrific behavior.
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