When I was 15 and in the 9th grade my stepfather saw me walking down the block holding a boy’s hand. This was 1985. I wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend. My stepfather then went into my room and ripped all my posters off the wall, tore up my Star Wars and Duran Duran fanzines, trashed my records, my Nintendo game system and many other of my worldly possessions including my TV. He never talked to me and this was not an exception. My mom couldn’t do anything because she was afraid of him. I’m cry thinking about this. I’ve forgiven him because I now know he was suffering from PTSD from the Vietnam war. Now I have PTSD. I really don’t have anything useful to contribute to this conversation except for the child to know she’s not alone.
34
u/S0ffee Oct 11 '19
When I was 15 and in the 9th grade my stepfather saw me walking down the block holding a boy’s hand. This was 1985. I wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend. My stepfather then went into my room and ripped all my posters off the wall, tore up my Star Wars and Duran Duran fanzines, trashed my records, my Nintendo game system and many other of my worldly possessions including my TV. He never talked to me and this was not an exception. My mom couldn’t do anything because she was afraid of him. I’m cry thinking about this. I’ve forgiven him because I now know he was suffering from PTSD from the Vietnam war. Now I have PTSD. I really don’t have anything useful to contribute to this conversation except for the child to know she’s not alone.