When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?
I wish there were an (if ever) in my story, but it’s not to be. I grew up fast and early. However, did I feel like an adult or live in an adult world? I’m not sure.
Children who journey through the impressionable years under abuse experience childhood differently. We long for the tender moments to run, play, and be children. Those memories are what I cling to.
Being threatened to do what he wanted filled me with fear and confusion. I had to think and do things on an adult level from a very early age. Following the textbook impression of what an abused young girl looks like, I chased boys to fill the void and ended up pregnant long before I graduated high school.
I felt the stress, fatigue, and weight of being an adult before I could drive. I did not pursue my license at 16 like all the other kids. I was a mother with two full-time jobs-parenting and being a student. The school district provided me with a car seat, and my son and I were on the bus before 7:00 a.m., rain or snow, and off to school. We’d either walk to our stop or, in inclement weather, get a ride. They had a childcare area for students like me. I spent an hour of my day there working and the other six in academic classes.
I graduated a semester early and ran from the house of hell.
I had no college plans, though I could have received scholarships or grants, no license, and no job—just a yearning to escape the torture and find safety and happiness.
There are many pieces to this story that I will skip, but after a tragic accident left me a single parent of two children, my mom said, “It’s time to get a license.” I was 19 years old. She bought me a 20-year-old car (for $50!), and I passed my test.
It’s the first time driving away by myself that I think I felt like an adult. I had been a mom for several years. I experienced horrific abuse my entire life. I experienced grown-up things but never left the fearful child behind. As I drove away, I released a part of the evil past out the window and let it fly with the wind.
I wasn’t backed into a corner by the devil’s soldier; I wasn’t locked in the house, unable to venture. I was free. With that freedom came a sliver of hope. That hope would never die, never be held down and muzzled again. I didn’t just feel like an adult; I felt free.
Lisa @ Authentic Truths 