u/Frivolous_22

I’ve never spoken about this to anyone before.

Growing up, my dad loved me more than anyone else in the family. At least that’s how it felt. He openly called me his favorite child and my brothers hated me for it. I loved my dad deeply because of that. I always defended him no matter what.

Then when I was around 15 or 16, my parents’ marriage became horrible. They fought constantly. My dad was aggressive and my mom would also intentionally say things that escalated situations more. One day he was about to hit her and for the first time in my life I stepped in between them and pushed him away from her.

That one moment changed everything.

After that, I stopped blindly taking my dad’s side and started defending my mom more during fights. Suddenly the same father who used to proudly call me his favorite started hitting me whenever I argued with him.

The worst part is my mom would come to me crying about him, but once his anger turned toward me, she would stand with him too. Overnight I became the enemy of my own house.

My brothers already resented me growing up because my dad favored me, and now everyone finally had a reason to gang up on me together.

There’s one memory I still can’t forget. My brother grabbed me by my neck and choked me against a door while I was trying to leave. My dad stood there watching. My mom and other brother were there too. Nobody stopped him until he let go himself.

I remember screaming and crying “STOP” over and over again while they kept hitting me harder because I was screaming. They would yell at me not to scream while continuing to hit me. I still remember the fear and helplessness I felt in that moment. I was just a teenage girl begging her own family to stop hurting her.

And then the next day I still had to go to college and act like I was normal.

At the same time, I started having problems in college too. I used to be a very bright and active student, especially in maths. Before things became bad at home, I would answer questions confidently and participate in class a lot.

But once everything started happening in my house, I became quiet. I stopped answering questions because mentally I was drowning.

My maths teacher noticed the change and instead of asking if something was wrong, she started humiliating me in front of the class. She would say things like she thought I was smart but I was proving myself dull and stupid. She constantly targeted and embarrassed me.

I became so emotionally exhausted that I started skipping college sometimes just to avoid her class and avoid feeling humiliated again.

But then my parents used my attendance as another reason to verbally abuse me and beat me at home.

So it became a cycle I couldn’t escape:

I was suffering at home, then suffering at college, then coming home and getting punished again because college was becoming too hard for me mentally.

The crazy part is that despite all of this, I still scored 99% in MPC and got full marks in maths finals. My teacher was shocked when the results came out. I think now I realize I was never stupid or lazy. I was traumatized and trying to survive.

Then when I was around 18 or 19, another huge thing happened. My dad started having an affair with a woman who would constantly come to our house even while my mom was there. My mom would cry to me and my brothers about it, and because I was the oldest child I confronted my dad about it.

Again he became violent. Again he beat me badly.

This time even my brother who wasn’t even speaking to me properly back then had to interfere to stop him.

And even after all of that, my mom still went back to standing by my dad’s side.

That’s the part that messes with my head now. These things didn’t happen once. They happened again and again across years of my life. But every single time my parents were nice to me afterward, I would forgive everything and convince myself maybe it wasn’t abuse. Maybe I deserved it. Maybe it wasn’t that serious.

Now I’m 26 and recently had to move back home after losing my job, and suddenly all these memories are coming back at once. I feel like for the first time in my life I’m seeing my childhood clearly instead of constantly excusing it.

I never told friends. Never told relatives. I used to sit alone crying silently for hours and talk to Allah because I genuinely felt like He was the only one listening to me.

Sometimes I still can’t understand how someone can say their daughter is the person they love most while also becoming the person she feared most.

I’ve never spoken about this to anyone before.

Growing up, my dad loved me more than anyone else in the family. At least that’s how it felt. He openly called me his favorite child and my brothers hated me for it. I loved my dad deeply because of that. I always defended him no matter what.

Then when I was around 15 or 16, my parents’ marriage became horrible. They fought constantly. My dad was aggressive and my mom would also intentionally say things that escalated situations more. One day he was about to hit her and for the first time in my life I stepped in between them and pushed him away from her.

That one moment changed everything.

After that, I stopped blindly taking my dad’s side and started defending my mom more during fights. Suddenly the same father who used to proudly call me his favorite started hitting me whenever I argued with him.

The worst part is my mom would come to me crying about him, but once his anger turned toward me, she would stand with him too. Overnight I became the enemy of my own house.

My brothers already resented me growing up because my dad favored me, and now everyone finally had a reason to gang up on me together.

There’s one memory I still can’t forget. My brother grabbed me by my neck and choked me against a door while I was trying to leave. My dad stood there watching. My mom and other brother were there too. Nobody stopped him until he let go himself.

I remember screaming and crying “STOP” over and over again while they kept hitting me harder because I was screaming. They would yell at me not to scream while continuing to hit me. I still remember the fear and helplessness I felt in that moment. I was just a teenage girl begging her own family to stop hurting her.

And then the next day I still had to go to college and act like I was normal.

At the same time, I started having problems in college too. I used to be a very bright and active student, especially in maths. Before things became bad at home, I would answer questions confidently and participate in class a lot.

But once everything started happening in my house, I became quiet. I stopped answering questions because mentally I was drowning.

My maths teacher noticed the change and instead of asking if something was wrong, she started humiliating me in front of the class. She would say things like she thought I was smart but I was proving myself dull and stupid. She constantly targeted and embarrassed me.

I became so emotionally exhausted that I started skipping college sometimes just to avoid her class and avoid feeling humiliated again.

But then my parents used my attendance as another reason to verbally abuse me and beat me at home.

So it became a cycle I couldn’t escape:

I was suffering at home, then suffering at college, then coming home and getting punished again because college was becoming too hard for me mentally.

The crazy part is that despite all of this, I still scored 99% in MPC and got full marks in maths finals. My teacher was shocked when the results came out. I think now I realize I was never stupid or lazy. I was traumatized and trying to survive.

Then when I was around 18 or 19, another huge thing happened. My dad started having an affair with a woman who would constantly come to our house even while my mom was there. My mom would cry to me and my brothers about it, and because I was the oldest child I confronted my dad about it.

Again he became violent. Again he beat me badly.

This time even my brother who wasn’t even speaking to me properly back then had to interfere to stop him.

And even after all of that, my mom still went back to standing by my dad’s side.

That’s the part that messes with my head now. These things didn’t happen once. They happened again and again across years of my life. But every single time my parents were nice to me afterward, I would forgive everything and convince myself maybe it wasn’t abuse. Maybe I deserved it. Maybe it wasn’t that serious.

Now I’m 26 and recently had to move back home after losing my job, and suddenly all these memories are coming back at once. I feel like for the first time in my life I’m seeing my childhood clearly instead of constantly excusing it.

I never told friends. Never told relatives. I used to sit alone crying silently for hours and talk to Allah because I genuinely felt like He was the only one listening to me.

Sometimes I still can’t understand how someone can say their daughter is the person they love most while also becoming the person she feared most.