Up until Matthew came, our little family did so much, we went to the zoo and I was in beauty pageants and I did so much with my mom and i was definitely Daddy's little girl.
I would soon learn as an adult that there was theory for this, but until then, it would always remain a mystery, a painful one that was constantly thrown in my face as an excuse for so much. That part of the story would come later.
I will never forget the first time it was used on me. I had Matthew mad because he wouldn't leave my dolls alone, he threw a big fit and I being the oldest got into trouble for it and I was about to learn how awful that wooden rod was. I was already scared of it, I hated looking at it when it sat in its place on the back of the dryer in the laundry room. The adopted mother took me aside into the play room, told me to drop my shorts and I flat out refused to. I wasn't going to do it, I wasn't going to have that rod used on me. 10 minutes later, I found that no matter how much I threw myself on the floor, or if I put my hands behind me to protect me, she was going to swing anyways until I finally gave in and stood there and took my so called 'spanking'. I cried later, I cried then as it was happening but just enough to make her stop, I was sent to my bed, with welts on my backside, up and down the back of my thighs and worse, my hands would be swollen because I would try to keep her from hitting me. I will never forget that, sitting on my bed, wondering how this was called ‘love’. I sat there and realized that from that moment on that I would dread that 'rod' and getting punished and my life was going to be miserable because of it.