I Fear The Dutch
I have a fear of the Netherlands, and of the Dutch people.
I know better, because I have been to Amsterdam and have met only good, kind, helpful people there. The cheese was pretty good, too. The tulips were beautiful. I also smoked some pretty decent hashish there. It's a fun city with lots of nice people in it.
My problem goes back to my miserable childhood. If you've read my Featured story here, you would know how abusive my mother was. My mother was sadistic and cruel; she was abusive physically and mentally. And she had an assistant in her abuse, a co-abuser. She sent me to a child psychologist who supported her behavior 100%. As a kid, I regarded this woman as my 2nd worst enemy, with my mother as #1. Her threats to have me put in an institution were very real and I feared her. She still lives on now and then in my nightmares.
In fact, the only objection she ever made to my mother's bullying behavior was to tell her, and me, that my mother should hit me harder and more often. If I complained, she laughed at me and made fun of me. Later, in my late teens, when I was raped, she told me she thought I was lying about the entire incident; I wasn't, and I was devastated.
One of the reasons she gave for her support of my mother's abuse was her childhood in Holland, in the Netherlands. According to her, parents where she grew up were very strict. She said that as a child, in her neighborhood, all parents kept a stick, a big one, hung up on a hook in the kitchen, right next to the back door. If a child misbehaved, that child was ordered to come into the house through the back door, and the parent would take down the stick and beat the child. If a child misbehaved at school, the school would phone the parent and the child would know that he or she had to enter the house through the back door when coming home. Then they would be severely beaten. My childhood shrink really approved of this kind of punishment "because it teaches children their place in the world." She thought all children in America (or at least in the USA) were spoiled and needed more punishment. She never expressed any support for me in any area of my life and approved of every nasty thing my mother ever said or did.
So I guess that impression of life in the Netherlands stuck in my mind. I tend to see Dutch people as mean to children and a bit scary. For many years I wouldn't even eat Gouda cheese. What can I say? I fight this impression but it's stuck with me.
So, do Dutch people really beat their children with a stick for every misdead or mistake? I doubt it. The Dutch people I met were gentle and caring people. Anne Frank never mentioned a stick in her diaries.
Any Dutch people here want to comment? Any sçars on your body leftover from "learning your place in the world"?
I know better, because I have been to Amsterdam and have met only good, kind, helpful people there. The cheese was pretty good, too. The tulips were beautiful. I also smoked some pretty decent hashish there. It's a fun city with lots of nice people in it.
My problem goes back to my miserable childhood. If you've read my Featured story here, you would know how abusive my mother was. My mother was sadistic and cruel; she was abusive physically and mentally. And she had an assistant in her abuse, a co-abuser. She sent me to a child psychologist who supported her behavior 100%. As a kid, I regarded this woman as my 2nd worst enemy, with my mother as #1. Her threats to have me put in an institution were very real and I feared her. She still lives on now and then in my nightmares.
In fact, the only objection she ever made to my mother's bullying behavior was to tell her, and me, that my mother should hit me harder and more often. If I complained, she laughed at me and made fun of me. Later, in my late teens, when I was raped, she told me she thought I was lying about the entire incident; I wasn't, and I was devastated.
One of the reasons she gave for her support of my mother's abuse was her childhood in Holland, in the Netherlands. According to her, parents where she grew up were very strict. She said that as a child, in her neighborhood, all parents kept a stick, a big one, hung up on a hook in the kitchen, right next to the back door. If a child misbehaved, that child was ordered to come into the house through the back door, and the parent would take down the stick and beat the child. If a child misbehaved at school, the school would phone the parent and the child would know that he or she had to enter the house through the back door when coming home. Then they would be severely beaten. My childhood shrink really approved of this kind of punishment "because it teaches children their place in the world." She thought all children in America (or at least in the USA) were spoiled and needed more punishment. She never expressed any support for me in any area of my life and approved of every nasty thing my mother ever said or did.
So I guess that impression of life in the Netherlands stuck in my mind. I tend to see Dutch people as mean to children and a bit scary. For many years I wouldn't even eat Gouda cheese. What can I say? I fight this impression but it's stuck with me.
So, do Dutch people really beat their children with a stick for every misdead or mistake? I doubt it. The Dutch people I met were gentle and caring people. Anne Frank never mentioned a stick in her diaries.
Any Dutch people here want to comment? Any sçars on your body leftover from "learning your place in the world"?
70-79, F
