Abuse? Was I actually abused?
Abuse is a big, dark, heavy word.
I remember convincing myself when I was around 9 probably, that this is not abuse. Eventhough what was written or advertised were actually what I was going through.
Beating, scolding, belt on my bum or thigh. Multiple times. Few times in a day.
I thought that Uma was doing this for me. I was bad! She needed to discipline me. But they are many times too, the things that I did, wasnt worth beating the crap out of me. Well, I used to be a bit loud after I came back from school, isnt that what kids do? It came without warning, Uma would call my name, then ‘pang!pang!pang!’
A lot of times too, I do not know what I did wrong, but those fingers, pinched me till I am blue. I dont know? Maybe I supposed to sit ‘bersimpuh’ but then I chose to sit ‘bersila’, and that shit invites pinch, in front of people, but Uma did it discreetly. Now come to think about it, I should have make a scene, cried loudly, tell everyone that Uma pinched me. But that wasnt a wise choice, I mean I was gonna come back home with her. Imagine what would happened behind closed doors.
By now, some people might say I am a brat. ‘I got beaten too, I turn out fine’, ‘my mom beaat the shit out of me too, I brave it all’, ‘kids need to be taught that way, or not, they wont listen’.
I agree. I totally agree. I am actually not against beatings.
But a lot of times, I do not know why I got beaten, and the severity of the beating, i end up feeling like I was a punching bag. And I am certainly sure that my Uma look at me that way too. She is a working woman, must have been nice to beat sth, release all those negative, frustrating energy on me.
It seems like I am glamorising abuse. I am not.
I had read my fair share of abused stories, now that I try to acknowledge that I was abused, and wrote about it, it is becoming more clear to me how similar my story is to all the others abused stories. I remember sympathising and even cried after reading the abuse stories. Turn out I was abused myself.
“I turn out fine even after the beatings”
Well, I got beaten for manners and studies all the time. Was it working? I guess.
With my result, I got accepted into scholarship and was able to study overseas for three years.
Was that turn out ‘fine’?
I am not sure, was my intelligence or my academic performance was thanks to all the beatings? Would I do badly without all the beatings?
“What could have gone wrong?’
Everything? I actually struggled through college because that is where people try to be on the front line, take the leadership and whatnot. And me? Nope, I was too scared. I did not believe in myself. I hardly talked, because of the conditioning that my Uma did on me. I am scared that I said something wrong, I do something wrong. I chickened out.
I dont have my voice. Before i got into college for overseas preparation, I was doing something else, foundation at Puncak Alam. I need to choose whether to continue foundation or go into the college. I think I had made my choice quite clear, my heart was heavy to continue for foundation. But Uma already talking how proud she would be if I get to fly overseas. It is more secure too, since I was promised job as a teacher. Uma doesnt listen anymore, she try to convinced me. Till these days, I will still remember how Uma went to Puncak Alam to get all my stuff (I dint packed because I do not want to go), and dragged me to the Seremban college. What choice do I have? ‘respect for elders’, ‘adults know better than you’, Isnt that all too familiar? It is bullshit. Adults, they fantasize too, and I was the victim of one of those fantasy.
Those fantasy to, almost destroy my younger sister. She got accepted doing engineering and was promised scholarship to Australia. But Uma pulled her out of there, and wants her to do medic. Uma wants one of her children to be a doctor. Uma also comes around with strong reasoning too this time around. Uma said, her friends told her, it is a hard field for a lady to survive. I was devastated, because the choice that Uma made for me, was also because her ‘friends’ told her so. Oh, and I get 1B for my SPM, and the words still hurt till these days, Uma’s friend word was – what can a 1B student get into these days? They can only get to be teachers with that result.
No, I am not downplaying teachers role, but I dreamt big too. I want to be doctor at that time. But never once, i felt like I did a good job for my SPM, I was a failure right, I dint get straight As.
These are only the big, recent occasions that happened. Many little occasions that destroys me,
In the end, I am actually torn, Is it okay to blame it on Uma? If I had done things differently, would it actually been better than this, or it might be worst?