You’re fine. Stop Exaggerating.

Daddy pulled your pants and underwear down and spanked you?

You’re fine. Stop exaggerating.

Mommy made you stand in the corner again?

You’re fine. Stop exaggerating.

Daddy said that Tigger backpack you want is stupid?

You’re fine. Stop exaggerating.

Mommy said she bets you’d be happy if she died?

You’re fine. Stop exaggerating.

Daddy grabbed your face and screamed at you?

You’re fine. Stop exaggerating.

Mommy made you write “I obey Mom” 200 times?

You’re fine. Stop exaggerating.

Daddy kissed you on the lips?

You’re fine. Stop exaggerating.

You told Mommy he kissed you on the lips and she said you misunderstood?

You’re fine. Stop exaggerating.

Daddy left and took all our money?

You’re fine. Stop exaggerating.

Mommy made you her therapist and emotional spouse?

You’re fine. Stop exaggerating.

Daddy said you looked “smoking’ hot” and that he liked your big boobs?

You’re fine. Stop exaggerating.

Mommy was disgusted when you got fat?

You’re fine. Stop exaggerating.

Daddy considered killing mommy and himself?

You’re fine. Stop exaggerating.

Mommy has ignored you for years now?

You’re fine. Stop exaggerating.

Daddy nearly killed a woman?

She’s fine. Stop exaggerating.

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This poem was inspired by feelings I’ve had in the last few years. A few years ago, I found out that my dad had nearly choked to death his partner at the time, after years of physical abuse. When she regained consciousness after passing out from his strangulation of her, my Dad said to her, “You’re fine. Stop exaggerating.”

I realized that what my dad said to this woman after he nearly killed her is the same judgement and demand that has always come from both my parents about their abuse and mistreatment of me. This attitude is also now one that I tend to still perpetrate towards myself about my emotions and my experience, which I am trying to work through.

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Photo by Christopher Campbell via Unsplash