If I had a nickel for every time I asked my mom, ‘Is he in a good mood today?’ I wouldn’t have to work anymore.
That one question hovered over my childhood like a dark cloud.
It’s not something any child should have to ask…but for me, it was daily survival.
His moods weren’t just bad days. They were storms….unpredictable, intense, and often terrifying.
I lived my childhood on edge, hour to hour, minute to minute, scanning for signs.
Would today bring yelling? Silence? Slamming doors?
Was it safe to laugh? To talk? To just be a kid?
Every move I made was calculated.
Keep quiet. Keep small. Don’t cause a ripple.
I became an expert at walking on eggshells…masking my needs, muffling my voice, blending into the background.
I wasn’t just afraid of him.
I was afraid of setting him off.
The Weight of Fear
That kind of fear rewires your brain.
It teaches you that safety isn’t a place…it’s a performance.
I didn’t plan my childhood around fun or freedom. I planned it around him.
I remember one moment vividly…my Grade 4 birthday sleepover.
He was home that night.
My friends and I were just laughing, being kids… until we accidentally woke him up.
He came out yelling.
Not just at me….at all of us.
I remember the confusion, the shame and the humiliation. I had to go to school with these friends on Monday.
And I remember making a silent decision:
Next year, I don’t want him home.
From then on, even my happiest occasions came with a caveat:
“Will he be around?”
Because if he was, it meant I had to be on guard.
Why I’m Telling You This
Maybe you lived something similar.
Maybe your childhood was shaped by someone else’s rage….or their silence.
Maybe you, too, learned to monitor moods like weather patterns…
hoping for sun, bracing for storms.
If so, you’re not alone.
I’m not sharing this for pity.
I’m sharing it because someone out there needs to know:
This wasn’t normal.
This wasn’t your fault.
And it’s not too late to unlearn the fear.
This is just one chapter in my story.
Next time on Tattooed Truths:
I’ll share what emotional abuse looked like—for my mother and for me.
Two people, one house, and the unspoken damage we both carried.
#TattooedTruths #ChildhoodEmotionalAbuse #BreakingTheCycle #BehindTheSmile #LivingWithFear