My Childhood Memory

Decent Essays
I have a vivid memory of my grandma and myself when I was 6 years old. This was the only time as a child I was able to keep my eyes open on the “grown up” part. The movie was “What’s Love got to do With It” and there was a graphic domestic violence scene. The Woman in the scene was being beat by her husband, I remember being so scared. My grandmother sat me on her lap, looked at me sternly and made me promise no matter what never let a man put his hands on me. I made the promise then not knowing what she was asking of me. She was asking me to stop a vicious generational cycle. Months later that promise meant so much more than the connection to that movie scene. It became my reality. I was born, with my twin to married parents and a brother 4 years older than me. I’m the only girl and youngest technically by 15 minutes. My mother is a Christian and my dad is Muslim, there was a pressure on practicing either religion. We lived in a mini suburban town, Windsor. My neighborhood was very safe, small and diverse. Both parents had a good job, my mom started at the Hartford almost 10 years ago at the time, and my dad was still contracting through the state and starting his business. They reminded us daily they worked hard to provide a life for us they never had. A lot of time was spent with my mom due to my dad working long hours. Until 6, even with my dad being strict we had a close bond. Around age 6 my parents’ marriage began to fail and during this time my dad changed. After
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