You Can’t Make Me Cry

When I was five, my mother married Frank, who had a drinking issue. Frank was abusive and sadistic. The abuse started immediately.

Frank was unemployed when I was about seven. He took care of me in the summer while my mother worked. Every morning I was given a choice to clean the house, do any laundry, take care of my brother, or spend the rest of the day in my room.

If you tell your mother you’re the one cleaning the house and taking care of your brother, you will be very sorry that you ever opened your mouth.

As a child, I didn’t do typical girl things like playing with dolls. I grew up in a neighborhood of boys and was more of a tomboy. When I was allowed to go outside to play, I climbed trees, made forts in the woods, and played in the creek.

Frank’s drinking worsened, and so did the abuse—especially that summer when I was alone with him. Anything could trigger him. He would rip my pants and underwear down to my ankles and hit me with his leather belt until I cried and was covered in welt marks and bruises from my ankles to the middle of my back. I wore long sleeves and pants in 90-degree weather to hide the bruises.

My mother was oblivious.

If you say a word to your mother, the next beating will be worse.

So, I stayed silent because if my mother did nothing, I didn’t think anyone else would.

With each beating, my sadistic step-father’s goal was to see tears. But I was stubborn and learned at a very young age that I would never give him that satisfaction.

I hated liver and peas. My step-father knew this, so he made liver with mushy canned peas once a week for dinner. He always smiled as he put it in front of me. We both knew the meal and I would sit there until bedtime. The following day, the same meal was cold and waiting for me at the breakfast table. I went to school hungry.

Under the age of eight, I felt powerless. I knew my mother wouldn’t protect me, so I learned to compartmentalize. I became strong, resourceful, proud, and fiercely independent at a very young age.

While I desperately wanted to be a “normal” kid, I wasn’t doing things that “normal” kids were doing. My family was different. My saving grace was that I was a straight-A student who loved to read. Books were my escape; they took me to better places.
After seeing my mother’s path, I knew education was my way out. I put myself through school so I would never have to depend on anyone else.

When I was nine, Frank started sexually abusing me. And that is another story.

Tammy S. Drost is an award-winning Business and Brand Strategist, Founder of The Business360 Method®, Top 10 Business Coach, and an International Speaker. She’s a boy mom who enjoys traveling, kayaking, yoga, and her four pets.
https://www.linkedin.com/in/tammydrost/