Birthday Card

He hid my tablets, so I had to ask for them. Sometimes, I even had to beg. He knew how important they were for me.

Without them, I’d be in pain. It was like he had control over me. It made me feel powerless.

He would put a chair in the kitchen and make me sit on it. If I refused, he would push me down and tie me to it.

He would make me tell him all the things I had done wrong that day. Then he would hit me for them.

If I couldn’t think of anything, he would call me a liar and lock me in there until I thought of something. I had to think of something even though I knew he was going to hit me.

I had no freedom. I couldn’t even choose what I was going to wear. She did all of that.

She would leave clothes out on the bed for me. She even picked out what socks I would wear. I was more her fashion accessory. Just there to fit her image.

It’s humiliating when I look back at it. I couldn’t be me.

He went away one weekend and he didn’t want me going out. So he took all my clothes. He took everything. He even emptied my underwear drawer.

I was left naked in the flat. I couldn’t even answer the door.

She had this diary, but it wasn’t for remembering fun stuff or happy times. Nope, it was all about the times I messed up. Every little mistake or thing I did wrong, she’d write it down like it was some kind of crime.

It felt like she never missed a chance to point out my mistakes, but when it came to the good stuff? Forget about it. It’s like it never even happened.

It made me feel like I couldn’t do anything right, always walking on eggshells around her.

I had this book where I wrote down everything she did, like my own secret diary. But she found it, and she burned it all. All my words, all my proof, gone.

I felt so small, like I couldn’t do anything to stop her or prove what she did.