I saw him tonight… and it messed with me
Growing up, my mom believed in spanking. And honestly, I know a lot of parents did back then and still do, so that’s not really the point of this post.
My parents divorced when I was 2, and my dad remarried. I didn’t see him or his wife very often, but when I did, we went to church. I wasn’t raised in church by my mom or grandparents, but we do believe in God.
What I can’t wrap my head around is this…
My dad allowed the pastor of his church to spank me. Not once, but twice.
The first time, I was 9. I remember my mom absolutely flipping out when she found out. She didn’t even let me go back to my dad’s for a while because of it… even though, yes, she allowed other adults to discipline me too.
Then two years later, I went back to that same church… and it happened again. I was 11. It caused such a big blow-up that my mom and stepmom almost got into a physical fight over it.
Fast forward to tonight… I’m at Walmart, just minding my business, and I see him. That pastor. For the first time since I was a kid. He’s probably in his late 60s now.
And it just… hit me.
All the memories. All the feelings. Stuff I hadn’t thought about in years.
I just can’t imagine, as a parent now, ever allowing someone—especially someone who is basically a stranger—to put their hands on my child like that.
Like… what was my dad thinking?
And my mom’s a better woman than me, because I probably absolutely would’ve been locked up… because I would’ve been throwing hands and smiling in my mugshot.
My parents divorced when I was 2, and my dad remarried. I didn’t see him or his wife very often, but when I did, we went to church. I wasn’t raised in church by my mom or grandparents, but we do believe in God.
What I can’t wrap my head around is this…
My dad allowed the pastor of his church to spank me. Not once, but twice.
The first time, I was 9. I remember my mom absolutely flipping out when she found out. She didn’t even let me go back to my dad’s for a while because of it… even though, yes, she allowed other adults to discipline me too.
Then two years later, I went back to that same church… and it happened again. I was 11. It caused such a big blow-up that my mom and stepmom almost got into a physical fight over it.
Fast forward to tonight… I’m at Walmart, just minding my business, and I see him. That pastor. For the first time since I was a kid. He’s probably in his late 60s now.
And it just… hit me.
All the memories. All the feelings. Stuff I hadn’t thought about in years.
I just can’t imagine, as a parent now, ever allowing someone—especially someone who is basically a stranger—to put their hands on my child like that.
Like… what was my dad thinking?
And my mom’s a better woman than me, because I probably absolutely would’ve been locked up… because I would’ve been throwing hands and smiling in my mugshot.
