By the time I was fourteen, life at home was miserable. The sexual abuse had stopped, but was still a threat, and the physical abuse was always waiting for any opportunity to raise its head – and did so on a fairly frequent basis. I had no relationship with my mother – in fact, I really despised her. I felt she allowed my step-father to behave in an unacceptable way, and compounded the problem by behaving in an unacceptable way herself. I’m not sure how she felt about me, but knew for sure she didn’t ‘get me’. We were such different people and, the older I got, the more obvious it became.
One day, after my mother and I had been food shopping, she suggested we call in at the local pub for a drink. It was lunchtime. We would be socialising with my mothers friends. I didn’t want to go. So we went. My mother never drank alcohol – her ‘vice’ was smoking, so she bought herself a tomato juice, offered me a drink (I didn’t want one) and lit her cigarette. I sat at the small round table and watched my mother with contempt. She had forced me to sit in a horrible, smoky pub, with people I wouldn’t have trusted to look after an animal properly. Eventually, she turned to me and asked what was wrong. I told her – yet again – I didn’t want to be there and I didn’t want to speak to her friends. Her response was ‘You’re such a snob!’ My response was ‘Yes I am!’
Written by ‘Survivor-Uncensored’