I didn't know at the time...

Everyone was telling a funny story so I decided to tell a funny story too...about how I almost got a white slip for chewing gum on the school bus earlier that day.  It was my dad, my mom, my brother and I all sitting around the dinner table, eating dinner and chatting.  As I told my story I saw my dad's face get angrier and angrier.  Gradually I talked quieter and quieter, anticipating the "wrath" I knew too well.  After I finished telling the story, I was heavily scolded for almost getting in trouble and what was even worse, in my dad's opinion at least, was that he almost received a call from the bus driver.  It embarrassed him to have "misfit" children no matter what the offense.  So I stopped telling the story; I stopped telling all stories.  This experience was just another experience to scare me into not telling anyone anything in fear of getting in trouble. 

I didn't know it at the time but that experience caused me great pain inside.  So many things go through my mind as I think about it.  Why? with a lot of saddness is the best way I feel I can describe it.  My dad is still the same man and I'm still the same girl.  Afraid to open my mouth in fear of finding disapproval.  Parents have a very important job, to raise another human being, so I try not to blame my dad.  He did the best he could.  I hope.  But I can't and don't want to be the victim forever so I look deep within myself and I find the Sandy who sat at that table with her "family" and I comfort her.  I run my fingers through her hair, I rub her back, I hug her tightly for hours and I tell her it's going to be ok.  Great relief and peace surges through my entire being when I do this.  Moving forward, I created this to help me to visualize the experience: 

Sitting at the table with "my family" - color pencil on paper