I grew up in a small Kentucky town. I was the second of four children. I lived in Kentucky for almost nineteen years of my life and as soon as I graduated high school, I left and haven't been back since.

When I think of Kentucky the bad memories come back. My home life was dysfunctional and I had no real friends. I felt so alone. Like I was the only one in the world who felt that way.

My dad, whom I used to call "Dead" because that's how he felt to me, ruled with an iron fist. He was physically and verbally abusive.

He was a scary figure in my life. I hated school but I also hated being at home because I knew what it meant. Walking on eggshells, keeping the peace, keeping my mouth shut and my head down. When you live that way, your brain learns to live in a state of hypervigilance. You scan for danger and learn to read body language and facial expressions so you can get the hell out of there or try to protect yourself.

One of my most vivid childhood memories involves my dad. We were at my grandma's (his mom) house and he came storming in. I vaguely remember him hitting my mom and her having to go to the hospital. Us kids ran and hid in the bedroom and locked the door and I'll never forget him pounding on the door, trying to get to us. I remember leaning over the toilet and throwing up because I was so scared.

For a very long time I blamed my mom. The fact is, she didn't protect us. She let it happen or busied herself to maybe act like it wasn't happening. She distanced herself from us. Yeah, she was there physically but emotionally and mentally she just checked out. That's what hurt me the most. Even more than the abuse, my mom not being there when I needed her to protect me, to help me make sense of my feelings and emotions...that hurt on a level so deep I am still dealing with it. I felt unloved. Unwanted. Worthless.

I went no-contact years ago. It was the right choice for  me. I lived with anger and hatred, wanting my parents dead, for so long. I thought I could get revenge by holding on to that pain but I was only hurting myself. I wasted so many years putting so much energy into that hate that it blinded me.

They say hurt people hurt people. If left unresolved, abuse will pass down through generations  and cause even more pain and suffering. My parents didn't reach out for help and the cycle continued. I can see that my mother was probably terrified. She had no job, no way to escape. Even though I didn't want to believe it, she was a victim too and the thoughts in her head were probably not too pretty. From what I know, my father grew up to be just like his father. I'm not excusing their behavior. It gives me some peace knowing there are reasons they acted the way they did. I wasn't the cause of their actions and that brings me peace because for a long time, I thought I brought all that pain on somehow. I had always believed I was defective and that I caused my mom to not love me and my dad to be abusive.

I'm in counseling now. I also recently joined a trauma healing and recovery support group. The most important thing I've learned is that despite what happened I am still worthy. My counselor took out a dollar and asked how much it was worth. One dollar. She ripped it, crumpled it into a ball, and then stepped on it and smashed it with her foot. She asked again how much it was worth. Still one dollar. Then she asked "don't you think it's the same way for you?" and I proceeded to cry. You see, we were worthy of love before the trauma. We were deserving of protection and care and support before and during the trauma. Trauma creeps up like the monster it is and erodes the belief that we matter. If our own parents can abuse us and ignore us, then surely we aren't worthy of anything good. That's the belief that gets pounded into your brain. But I want you to know that you were worthy then, you were worthy after it ended, and you're worthy now. You will always be worthy. Someone else's inability to see our worth doesn't mean it's not there. It means that person isn't looking for it. It means they're too wrapped up in their struggles to see how brilliant you really are.

I don't believe children can do anything bad enough to deserve being hurt. I do believe that as we get older, it's our responsibility to take charge of our healing. It's a long and challenging road. But it's a road worth walking on. And we're worth it.