The First Time My Boyfriend Hit Me, My Dad Told Me To Thank Him.

A Legacy of Control

My dad told me to thank the man who laid hands on me. When I asked why, he smiled.

“Because he’s making you wife material.” He said.

I just hung up. That was nine months ago; last night he was begging me to come home.

The Stoic Protocol

I was ten years old when my dad first told me to close my legs. We were sitting in a restaurant and I was fooling around, but I immediately sat up straight and followed his overly stoic protocol.

From there, my childhood ended. Every dinner was accompanied with a stopwatch, and if I finished before the time ran out, I wouldn’t get to eat breakfast or lunch the next day.

When I was twelve, he threw out all my sneakers other than for school and replaced them with heels. Don’t get me wrong, I knew it wasn’t exactly the best parenting method around.

Whenever I brought up my doubts, my dad would somehow convince me that I was better than the other girls in my class. He told me that I would grow up to be elegant and special, so I obliged.

Meeting Troy

Fast forward to my sophomore year of college when I met Troy. He was practically my dad’s wet dream.

He was studying law, spent his weekends at the gun range, and spent his savings on whiskey and cigars. When I introduced Troy to my dad, he literally said the words:

“I will see to it that y’all get married.” He said.

I laughed, thinking it was a light-hearted comment, but something in his eyes told me he wasn’t kidding. The next day, Troy was singing my dad’s praises.

“I’ve never met a man who knows how to keep a woman in line like your dad.” He said.

It irked me because my childhood caused me a lot of trauma that I’m still dealing with. But I hated talking bad about my family, so I just nodded.

Continuing the Cycle

Something shifted that day. We’d be out on dates and he’d tap my spine and whisper:

“Straighten up, you’re not a child.” He whispered.

And as soon as I did, he would shower me with praise. “You don’t even know how stunning you look when you sit like that.” He would say.

It made me blush every time. I didn’t realize that I was simply continuing the cycle.

A few weeks later, reality slapped me in the face—literally. That was when I came home to my dorm and noticed over half of my wardrobe was missing.

The New Wardrobe

I tore my room upside down looking for my clothes, but they were gone. That’s when I heard a knock at the door; it was Troy.

Before I could open it, he barged in. In his hands were almost ten shopping bags, all from women’s clothing stores.

He emptied them out on the bed. I kept my expression neutral on purpose.

“A thank you might be nice,” He said, completely straight-faced.

“I threw out your ward clothes and replaced them for you. Check it out.” He said.

Fear ran through my body. I tried to keep my hands still as I went through each bag.

Inside were floor-length skirts, extra-large jumpers, and huge scarves to cover my face. I started laughing, partly out of shock and partly because I wanted this to be some sick joke.

“Well, aren’t you grateful? I just spent $500 on your sorry—” He said.

The sudden tone change made my nervous system jolt. I silently looked up at him, pleading with my eyes for him to calm down.

Instead, his hand smacked my cheek. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth to stop myself from crying.

I managed to muster a thanks, Troy. He responded by lunging at me for a hug.

“I hope you know I only do all this because I love you.” He said.

I nodded and he left to go to a lecture. As soon as the door closed, I broke down crying.

No Place to Turn

I knew I needed to leave but I was too scared to do it alone, so I called my dad. My hands were shaking so badly I had to press the call button twice.

When I explained what happened, my dad provided a lot of comfort, except not towards me. It was towards Troy.

“Well, if you tested him enough to make him lose his cool, then you need to take some accountability. Men don’t snap for no reason.” He said.

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. “Are you listening to me?” He asked, his voice going sharp.

“Yeah.” I responded.

“Good girl.” He said.

I could hear the smile in his voice. “Now, when Troy gets back, I want you to thank him properly. He’s putting in the work to make you better and you owe him that respect.” He said.

I just hung up. I knew breaking up with Troy meant finally cutting off my dad for good, but I did it anyway.

I had already lived my entire childhood in fear, and there was no way I was going to choose to continue suffering. I did it over text and blocked him right after.