Part 3 - Early Childhood Humiliation

While still living in the same place where my mom first tried to kill my dad, I made friends with two neighbor boys. They were brothers, and both were around my age. Being the tomboy I was, I enjoyed catching frogs, collecting locust shells, and exploring the woods across the street with them. My mom didn't mind my hanging out with them, so I did it as frequently as she allowed. At the same time, however, I struggled with an undersized bladder. This condition is fairly common among children that age, but hadn't yet gained the recognition from the general public that it has today. Thus, my mom thought I as a six-year-old girl was intentionally wetting my underpants. She argued with me day in and day out, insisting it was completely intentional and disciplining me each time she did laundry. When repeated spankings, often over 100 strokes each, failed to solve the problem, my mom began to believe that perhaps I wasn't intentionally disobeying her. She decided to take me to a doctor, who ordered a urine sample. The sample came back normal, and with me sitting right there the doctor explained to my mother that in his professional opinion I was simply rebelling. He suggested the problem could be a lack of discipline, and suggested my mother do whatever it took to let me know that behavior was not acceptable for a girl my age. She took him up on that advice.

On the drive home I sat trembling in the back seat as my mother explained how she'd never been more humiliated in her life, and she couldn't believe I would do this to her. She promised me the worst spanking I'd ever received, and told me I was not to play with the neighbor boys for two weeks. I shook, and tried to explain it wasn't intentional, but to no avail. She carried out her threats, but in the end took it even further. The next time the neighbors came over she took a pair of my soiled underpants to the door with her and literally showed the boys what I had done. She then told them I had been spanked and was not allowed to play with them for the next two weeks. She knew this would humiliate me, but to her it was jusitfied. I was a shy child by nature, and easily embarrassed, yet my mom seemed to enjoy humiliating me in front of friends, family, and total strangers alike. By that age I was used to it, but the event with the neighbor boys was one of the worst instances of humiliation I had endured. Thankfully, my family moved the following summer, shortly after I turned seven. But what I'd hoped to be a fresh start soon turned into an even darker nightmare.