My parents were lazy and ineffective parents. They smacked, slapped, lashed out, dragged me up the stairs by my hair, threw me across the room. They mocked and humiliated me. They taunted and goaded me. They locked me in the porch and out in the back garden in all weathers. Smacking was just one element of their shit parents arsenal. On the surface, they looked perfectly reasonable and MC, but scratch the surface and you discover why I'm such a wreck today.
I am rubbish at confrontation and I think this might be why - because of the whole "talking back" thing, I never know what's reasonable/assertiveness and what's crossing the line into "might offend person enough to attack me" yes, me too.
The fear I feel at work/socially of 'being in trouble' is overwhelming. I'm 38 and yet I can feel the anxiety fear rising up inside me to the point where I can feel that I am losing control of my arms and legs.
They never once explained, were never calm, never allowed me a neutral way out - to back down with dignity, never enabled me to make a 'good choice'.
My husband's experience was similar. We were both scared of our parents. Scared in our homes. Spent most of our childhoods being scared.
We never smack our children. People always compliment us on their behaviour and tell us how 'lucky' we are that they are good. We aren't lucky! It was hard work. It would have been far easier to smack them into submission and obedience, but instead we give them the space to feel angry, and the responsibility to control their own behaviour. We make our expectations clear, and explain consequences. We always follow through on sanctions. It's not the easiest approach.
I'm sure people who got the odd slap on the back of the hand or clothed bottom don't see the problem with smacking, but that isn't the experience I or many other people had.
I was still smacked as a punishment when I was 17 (not just because I 'never learned' but because the list of things that were considered 'naughty' knew no bounds). Although, as I was old/big enough by then to fight back, as you can probably imagine, it did look a lot more like a fight. I'm 5 foot 3, my dad is 6 foot 3. Sometimes I grabbed a shoe or something near me to give me a better chance. Then they treated me like a criminal if I managed to use it to fight him off.
Well done to my parents. You must be so proud.