I came to believe in a saying, “traumatized childhood, needs the rest of life to heal.”
My childhood was scarred when my parents fought. They happened every couple of days, but the intensity was the scariest part.
It was usually my mother picked the fight first, for some trivial reasons such as, as I remember, once my father was too absorbed in a soccer game played on TV, after finished cooking the meal for the entire family, forgetting to address mother, sat down and started to eat. That got her explode.
Though I didn't tell anyone, I secretly stand on my father's side, thinking mother's outburst not warranted. I believe that it was her that makes everyone's life difficult.
However, the intensity and the duration of each fight still make me shudder until this day.
My mother was the warrior, father was the one who just rises up to defend himself. But it took toll to the whole family, especially me.
Now I still think that all women, when they posing to fight, will invariably demonstrate a fearless determination resembles moth to the fire, which now I understand, is not true.
That's why I tend to stay away from any woman showing aggressivity, thinking it a lost cause to even bother to argue. Only later, I found out that women generally respond well to pressure and conflict in a cunning manner, definitely not the foolhardy I thought them be like.
