u/FreedomJusticePlz

I don’t even know where to start, but I really need to get this out.

I grew up in a family where love and fear existed together. As a child, I was carefree and didn’t understand what was happening. But looking back now, everything was already broken.

Father was controlling, aggressive, and always believed he was right. My grandmother constantly created conflict and fueled his behavior. One of my earliest memories is being dragged to the bathroom while my mother was inside. He started banging on the door like a maniac, and when she answered, he slapped her hard. I still remember my brother crying.

That was just one moment. There were many more.

At night, my mother would sometimes wake me up just to show me her swollen face, telling me it was “allergies.” I believed her then. I understand now.

My parents came from different religions and ran away to get married young. My mother is educated, hardworking, and strong. Everything we have today exists because of her. But father never valued that. He always acted like “the man of the house,” controlling everything and complaining about everything, while she carried the entire family.

She cooked outside in the rain because she wasn’t allowed to cook inside. She cleaned, took care of everyone, then went to work in the family business. Even during pregnancy, she walked long distances for checkups. She never rested.

At the same time, father slowly isolated her from her own family, saying they were bad influences. She had to hide just to stay connected to them.

Then came another shock: after building a business on family land, my grandparents refused to give ownership. My parents were left with nothing. Instead of standing up, father blamed my mother.

As I grew older, my life became more restricted.

I wasn’t allowed to:

go out

make friends

do sports

wear normal clothes

study freely

or even work

Father believed controlling me was protecting me. In reality, it destroyed my growth. I had to learn basic life skills very late because I was never allowed to experience life normally.

At the same time, I went through things no child should experience.

I was exposed to inappropriate behavior from people I should have been safe with. At school, a caretaker behaved in ways that were completely wrong with children. I didn’t understand anything at that age. I thought it was normal or something to hide.

That confusion affected me deeply. I did things as a child that I regret—not because I was bad, but because I didn’t understand right or wrong. No one guided me.

School wasn’t safe either. I was bullied by students and even teachers. One teacher insulted me because of my mother’s religion and humiliated me in front of the class. I started believing I was the problem.

At home, things were worse.

Father was violent—not just toward my mother, but toward me. I’ve been beaten to the point where I couldn’t breathe. I had visible injuries, and I was told to lie about it.

I stayed awake many nights, ready to protect my mother. I stood up for her—but later, she told me she didn’t need my help. That broke me.

There was also a fire that destroyed everything—money, clothes, valuables. Father blamed my mother again. But later in life, I realized it might have been me as a child accidentally causing it while playing with incense. That guilt stayed with me for years.

As a teenager, I became angry, lost, and isolated. I escaped into gaming because it was the only place I felt free.

I wasn’t allowed to work or build independence. When I finally started fighting for myself and tried to work, it was already late compared to others. I had no guidance, no support, and no experience.

I eventually managed to go abroad to Europe, hoping for a better life. But even there, I faced bullying and discrimination. People made jokes about my appearance, my height, my body, and sometimes treated me like I was less because I come from a small island.

I tried to stand up for myself and others, but many times I trusted the wrong people. I kept supporting people who weren’t loyal to me. It felt like a pattern—giving, trusting, and getting hurt.

I came back home hoping things would change.

They didn’t.

Same environment. Same control. Same tension.

Now I’m 30 years old, and I feel like I’m trying to build my life from zero.

I struggle with focus, overthinking, and what I believe could be ADHD. My mind feels overloaded. Sometimes I feel completely lost, like I’m not functioning the way I should. It affects my ability to work and move forward.

But despite everything, I don’t want to give up.

I want:

a stable job

independence

a healthy environment

peace of mind

I am not lazy. I am not weak. I just never had the right environment to grow. I'm just lost.

I also tried to share my story before—on YouTube. I made videos holding big papers with my story written on them, hoping someone would understand.

It didn’t reach many people… but somehow, it reached my mom.

She came to me angry, showed me the video, and said: “What is this?? This is you!?”

Everything matched—the story, the details, even the initials. I tried to deny it, but she didn’t believe me. She was more concerned about “family image” than what I went through.

So my solution at that time?

I blocked her. Hide some videos.

Out of everyone in the world, the one person I was trying to avoid… was the one who saw it.

Another thing I’ve struggled with my whole life is how people see me.

I’m not what society calls a “pretty” or “feminine” girl. I’m tall, big, and built strong—people even call me names that I look like a bodyguard,gorilla,ew,homme,etc 🫠

Because of that, I’ve been judged a lot. People have called me names, made comments about my face and body, and even suggested I should “fix” myself.

It made me question myself—like, is being “pretty” more important than being a good person or having real skills?

I’ve always tried to be kind, to help people, to be a people-pleaser… but in the end, I often feel used, left out, or not valued.

Sometimes it feels like people give importance to looks more than character—and I’ve always been on the losing side of that.

I’m also a big introvert, which makes everything harder.

Today, I’m still here. Still trying. Still fighting.

I’m not asking for pity. I’m asking for advice.

How do I break out of this cycle and finally build a stable life for myself?

\-This is a 2/4 part of my life. I really tried to post my story everywhere but it got banned/removed/unnoticed.

---Again I live on a small Island so many things are out of my reach. Therapy??? No one cares about that around me,old thinking people. Plus I don't have the funds for that 🙇🏻‍♀️

I don’t even know where to start, but I really need to get this out.

I grew up in a family where love and fear existed together. As a child, I was carefree and didn’t understand what was happening. But looking back now, everything was already broken.

Father was controlling, aggressive, and always believed he was right. My grandmother constantly created conflict and fueled his behavior. One of my earliest memories is being dragged to the bathroom while my mother was inside. He started banging on the door like a maniac, and when she answered, he slapped her hard. I still remember my brother crying.

That was just one moment. There were many more.

At night, my mother would sometimes wake me up just to show me her swollen face, telling me it was “allergies.” I believed her then. I understand now.

My parents came from different religions and ran away to get married young. My mother is educated, hardworking, and strong. Everything we have today exists because of her. But father never valued that. He always acted like “the man of the house,” controlling everything and complaining about everything, while she carried the entire family.

She cooked outside in the rain because she wasn’t allowed to cook inside. She cleaned, took care of everyone, then went to work in the family business. Even during pregnancy, she walked long distances for checkups. She never rested.

At the same time, father slowly isolated her from her own family, saying they were bad influences. She had to hide just to stay connected to them.

Then came another shock: after building a business on family land, my grandparents refused to give ownership. My parents were left with nothing. Instead of standing up, father blamed my mother.

As I grew older, my life became more restricted.

I wasn’t allowed to:

go out

make friends

do sports

wear normal clothes

study freely

or even work

Father believed controlling me was protecting me. In reality, it destroyed my growth. I had to learn basic life skills very late because I was never allowed to experience life normally.

At the same time, I went through things no child should experience.

I was exposed to inappropriate behavior from people I should have been safe with. At school, a caretaker behaved in ways that were completely wrong with children. I didn’t understand anything at that age. I thought it was normal or something to hide.

That confusion affected me deeply. I did things as a child that I regret—not because I was bad, but because I didn’t understand right or wrong. No one guided me.

School wasn’t safe either. I was bullied by students and even teachers. One teacher insulted me because of my mother’s religion and humiliated me in front of the class. I started believing I was the problem.

At home, things were worse.

Father was violent—not just toward my mother, but toward me. I’ve been beaten to the point where I couldn’t breathe. I had visible injuries, and I was told to lie about it.

I stayed awake many nights, ready to protect my mother. I stood up for her—but later, she told me she didn’t need my help. That broke me.

There was also a fire that destroyed everything—money, clothes, valuables. Father blamed my mother again. But later in life, I realized it might have been me as a child accidentally causing it while playing with incense. That guilt stayed with me for years.

As a teenager, I became angry, lost, and isolated. I escaped into gaming because it was the only place I felt free.

I wasn’t allowed to work or build independence. When I finally started fighting for myself and tried to work, it was already late compared to others. I had no guidance, no support, and no experience.

I eventually managed to go abroad to Europe, hoping for a better life. But even there, I faced bullying and discrimination. People made jokes about my appearance, my height, my body, and sometimes treated me like I was less because I come from a small island.

I tried to stand up for myself and others, but many times I trusted the wrong people. I kept supporting people who weren’t loyal to me. It felt like a pattern—giving, trusting, and getting hurt.

I came back home hoping things would change.

They didn’t.

Same environment. Same control. Same tension.

Now I’m 30 years old, and I feel like I’m trying to build my life from zero.

I struggle with focus, overthinking, and what I believe could be ADHD. My mind feels overloaded. Sometimes I feel completely lost, like I’m not functioning the way I should. It affects my ability to work and move forward.

But despite everything, I don’t want to give up.

I want:

a stable job

independence

a healthy environment

peace of mind

I am not lazy. I am not weak. I just never had the right environment to grow. I'm just lost.

I also tried to share my story before—on YouTube. I made videos holding big papers with my story written on them, hoping someone would understand.

It didn’t reach many people… but somehow, it reached my mom.

She came to me angry, showed me the video, and said: “What is this?? This is you!?”

Everything matched—the story, the details, even the initials. I tried to deny it, but she didn’t believe me. She was more concerned about “family image” than what I went through.

So my solution at that time?

I blocked her. Hide some videos.

Out of everyone in the world, the one person I was trying to avoid… was the one who saw it.

Another thing I’ve struggled with my whole life is how people see me.

I’m not what society calls a “pretty” or “feminine” girl. I’m tall, big, and built strong—people even call me names that I look like a bodyguard,gorilla,ew,homme,etc 🫠

Because of that, I’ve been judged a lot. People have called me names, made comments about my face and body, and even suggested I should “fix” myself.

It made me question myself—like, is being “pretty” more important than being a good person or having real skills?

I’ve always tried to be kind, to help people, to be a people-pleaser… but in the end, I often feel used, left out, or not valued.

Sometimes it feels like people give importance to looks more than character—and I’ve always been on the losing side of that.

I’m also a big introvert, which makes everything harder.

Today, I’m still here. Still trying. Still fighting.

I’m not asking for pity. I’m asking for advice.

How do I break out of this cycle and finally build a stable life for myself?

\-This is a 2/4 part of my life. I really tried to post my story everywhere but it got banned/removed/unnoticed.

---Again I live on a small Island so many things are out of my reach. Therapy??? No one cares about that around me,old thinking people. Plus I don't have the funds for that 🙇🏻‍♀️