This is the sixth entry in a series, where we publish personal stories from people our writers have reached out to in person (having obtained their consent beforehand, and preserving their privacy). We have renamed the man Richard. We have also transcribed a recorded conversation between one of our writers and Richard (having deleted the recording afterwards, as she demanded).
Notes:We have edited out coughing, our questions and irrelevant dialogue
Richard:
I'm born in France, but I'm from a South African (Boer) background. That's the culture in which I was raised.
I think many of us, in diaspora, have this romantic view of our culture - even stronger than people do back home. Perhaps it's to battle alienation.
Anyways, it's undoubtedly in our culture to discipline our children. Often violently.
You've heard: "Spare the rod, spoil the child"?
My parents lived by that, but took it to an extreme. They believed I wouldn't succeed in life, unless I was beaten thoroughly and regularly.
Was whipped with Switch branches, thrown, slapped, punched, kicked, hit with sandals and miscellaneous objects.
The worst part was that I had to fetch the object I'd be punished with.
Yes. I remember once, I was once told to "go fetch a thicker belt".
No, the worst part, was that I had to pull down my pants, and was threatened not to cry.
I would stifle beatings every few days, for offenses as trivial as leaving a light turned on in a room I'd left, to unsatisfactory grades, to talking back rudely, and other displays of insolence.
Yes, I did well in school. Was rather polite. Went to a top finance school, and landed a well paid job. But it made me feel lower than others. Subordinate.
I've always accepted authority, always accepted abuse. I would intuitively feel, that I must have done something wrong.
My wife would hit me - before our divorce. In fact, one of our main subjects of dispute was my refusal to have a child. I don't trust myself to raise a child well. And don't want to project my issues on an innocent.
Sometimes, I just sit down - after work - at home, on my couch. Just drinking whiskey, thinking about how I was treated. My feelings of fear come back. I still feel weak. I'm embarrassed to admit, some times I cry - when I'm all alone. I still feel so weak. They just hit me at their discretion. I didn't have a say over my body.
Huh. I'm a grown man. I'm a 40 year old man, and still can't get over my parents hitting me.
I feel your pain. For me it was the harsh punishments at school. I don't think you ever really get over these things.
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Just wretched. I hesitate to refer to these people as 'parents'; the word 'criminals' seems more apt. It is simply beyond reprehensible for grown adults to assault tiny innocent beings
On a more positive note, I want to congratulate Richard for having the strength to refuse to go along with his ex-wife's demands to have a child. He is completely right to be fearful of bringing a child into the world before he has dealt with his own traumatic past.
I want to wish him well and urge him to seek counseling if he hasn't already.
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Some things in life are tough to think about and even tougher to come to terms with. Thank you for this great piece.
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Your welcome! This means a lot.
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Thank you for sharing, and thank you to the original author that felt comfortable enough to tell the story.
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