Today, I realized that my 7-year-old son is experiencing the exact same trauma I went through when I was a child.
Sorry for the long post.
I grew up in the Philippines. I was academically inclined, but only because my mom forced me to be. While my cousins played outside, I was forced to read books. I wasn't allowed to go out unless I took the quizzes she made and scored perfectly on them. She made sure I was advanced in class, but not in a kind way. She would yell at me for every single mistake I made—every spelling error, every single wrong answer. She even threatened to pull me out of school permanently if I messed up again. Growing up, I hated her so much that I would rather sleep on the floor than next to her.
When I was 16, I was raped by my boyfriend at the time. I kept going to school and never stopped, even through my pregnancy. I finished my bachelor's degree on time, and today, I am the breadwinner. I have savings for myself and my child, and I pay for all the utilities in the house, but we still live with my parents (which is normal in the Philippines).
My son is now 7 years old. He has exams coming up, so I was reviewing with him, teaching him, and helping him remember the terms. Once we finished studying, I let him draw for a bit before bed.
Then, my mom came upstairs and told him to read an article about brains on her phone. He tried to read it, but it wasn't perfect; there were a lot of words he didn't know, and he couldn't read very fast because the screen and the font were so small. My mom got angry because he wasn't reading fast enough and couldn't understand the big, unfamiliar words. She shouted a word at him, so my son copied her and shouted the word back as he tried to read it. This made her furious. She got angry because he yelled, and she stormed out. My son started crying, terrified. He was so scared that he refused to sleep in the room with her and my dad. My dad assured him he would protect him, but my son was still terrified.
I felt completely useless because I couldn't stand up for my child. I am still afraid of her, and I felt helpless because we still live under her roof. Fortunately, today is my day off, so he can sleep with me. (I usually work the night shift, which is why he normally sleeps with my mom and dad).
I just finished talking to him. I asked, 'Why don't you want to sleep there? Papa is there.' He replied, 'Papa will be mad at me too if Mama tells him the truth.' I asked, 'What truth?' He said, 'That I'm a bad person because I'm not good enough and I don't listen.'
I burst into tears right in front of him. He thinks he is a bad person just for being a kid—for having immature grandparents and a weak mom. I cried because he feels like no one will stand up for him, and that running away is the only option. I know that feeling so well; I was him when I was a child. I felt so useless. A 7-year-old child thinks he is bad just for being a child. He told me he feels awful because he believes he is a bad person. I held him and assured him over and over that he isn't. It breaks my heart.
Now, I don't know what to do. I have to work tomorrow, and thinking about leaving him with people who make him feel unsafe makes me disgusted with myself. It is incredibly hard to find a work-from-home job here, but I am trying.
Thank you for listening.