Chapter 1: The Impact of Abuse and Silence

Allow me to be candid in my introduction. If you're reading this, I urge you to hear me out before forming any judgments. I am a 28-year-old woman with a child of my own to nurture and safeguard. My upbringing was marred by the volatile moods of my father. On days when he was displeased, he would inevitably find a way to project his anger onto me.

A few months before Christmas, I received an unexpected call from my mother. We hadn’t communicated in months, so it took me aback to hear her voice at 11 PM, sounding distraught and tearful. Before I could inquire about her well-being, she exclaimed, "Your father has passed away," bursting into tears. I was taken aback.

This was the same man I had cut ties with six years prior due to his abusive behavior; I had chosen silence to protect myself. He had never met my three-year-old son. How could it be that he was simply 'gone'?

Describing my childhood as one filled with domestic abuse feels like an understatement. Listing the myriad ways my father inflicted pain would take all day. In essence, he derived pleasure from physically harming me, manipulating me, stalking me, and eroding my self-esteem. Additionally, he controlled every aspect of my life—from my friendships to my choices.

My mother remained with him for over two decades, leaving only when I was in my mid-twenties. Just as my son entered the world, I learned that she was finally escaping this man.

Was I furious? Absolutely. I had implored her to leave during my teenage years, yet she chose to side with my father, rendering me the family outcast. She was a bystander, witnessing the abuse unfold repeatedly. For many years, I harbored resentment, but working in the field of abuse support opened my eyes to the reality that some individuals are both victims and enablers of abuse. My mother epitomized this duality.

Some parents feel trapped, believing they must watch their children suffer because they feel incapable of leaving their partner or severing ties. Others may even be abusers themselves, shifting the blame onto the victim for enticing their partner, when in fact they are complicit by allowing the abuse to continue.

Then, there are those who feel utterly powerless to intervene due to past experiences where standing up for their children resulted in worsening situations.

There are numerous reasons why parents permit abuse to occur, yet that does not absolve them of responsibility. I use the term "allow" cautiously, as every situation is unique.

Abuse is a complicated cycle, and there is no straightforward explanation for why some parents remain in abusive relationships. Society often casts judgment, asking why harm is permitted to befall children. As a survivor of childhood abuse, I acknowledge the validity of that question, but the truth is far more nuanced. Ideally, I wish everyone in such circumstances could escape at the first signs of abuse, but reality does not align with that desire.

Do I still hold my mother accountable for my childhood pain? I would be dishonest if I claimed a small part of me doesn’t still carry that blame. However, my understanding has evolved; I recognize that the issue is far from simple. My father was a deeply malevolent person who subjected my mother to various forms of abuse for two decades.

She was shattered, lacking the mental and emotional fortitude to leave, even with children to consider. When she finally did depart, he stalked her and manipulated her into taking him back, which she did.

Consequently, I had to take the initiative to leave my family home to advocate for myself, as she was unable to do so. At the age of 15, I willingly entered foster care, leaving the only home I had known.

I do not harbor hatred; what happened to me is in the past, and there is no turning back. However, I will shield my child from abuse at all costs, striving to break the cycle of generational trauma because I refuse to be like my mother.

Children deserve protection, and instead of placing blame on the parent who stayed, we should focus on providing them with the necessary support to leave. Nevertheless, this does not diminish the pain felt by survivors and victims. I empathize with that lingering suffering, which is a painful legacy. This does not excuse the enablers who perpetuate the cycle of abuse, nor does it absolve parents who blame the victims.

Enablers can be just as harmful as the abusers themselves; they contribute to the ongoing problem.

The first video, "When Childhood Abuse Turns Into Disturbing Behavior — The Story of Beth Thomas," explores the long-term effects of childhood abuse and the troubling behaviors that can stem from such experiences.

The second video, "The Mentality of an Abuser + What Creates It," delves into the mindset of abusers and the underlying factors that contribute to abusive behavior.