I just let her scratch me as she needed.




My young little daughter blasted at me in a rage and left scratches in my forearm. 
I just let her scratch me as she needed. 

I understood that as a child, when she could not control the way of her life as she wanted it to be, the nearest exist is anger. The same can be said about adults, too; especially me, since I am not that sophisticated about containing my own emotion either. People might say that I am not a good parent, and that she just needs more practice and knowledge to manage herself. 

The scratches hurt in many ways. The scars look still ugly now. I wonder sometimes how I would have let others done such injury to me. Parents are the most convenient targets at which children can fire their outburst, and the targets are easy as they have to remain passive and receptive and as they are the Parents. 

Parents are equally made of flesh and bones, tissue and blood, but their feelings are not as important as others. It is an extensive time of injustice that they have to bear. 

I just let her scratch me as I needed. 
So that the unspeakable injustice has a sign. 

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