adrian peterson and my childhood memories

Adrian Peterson son's leg
Courtesy CBS Minnesota. Picture of Adrian Peterson’s son’s leg a week after the beating.

i had to turn off espn and any sort of news outlet. just to have something playing in the background that could help my anger from spilling over, i tuned my television to the weather channel.

there has yet to be confirmation, but adrian peterson will reportedly be indicted on charges for beating his four-year old son with a switch. the boy was left with cuts and bruises on his legs, lower back and butt from the beating which peterson told authorities as a normal spanking.

so a four year old got a 6’1″, 215-pound 29-year old NFL running back so mad, the only recourse was to beat him to the point of bleeding? really? what can a four-year old do that is so wrong that he, in the eyes of his father, DESERVES to be beaten to the point of bleeding?

i have already seen people say that peterson should be free to “discipline his child” as he sees fit, that the reason our society and children are so out of control is because parents don’t whoop their children anymore, that because they were beaten as children it’s okay to beat their own children. spare the rod, spoil the child.


i still have so much anger towards family members who have beaten me as a kid. when i was little my mom would beat me with the metal handle end of a flyswatter if i brought home a test grade less than an “a” while telling me she would send me to an orphanage. as i got older and my mom left my dad, my uncle would assume the “father-figure” role in my life and he would punch me as i became a teenager including punching me in the head.

and, what probably pisses me off the most, being the eldest of all of my cousins, i was told to keep charge of them even though i was myself a kid. and, because i didn’t know any better, i would also hit my cousins until i realized how wrong it was by the time i was in eighth grade. i’m still racked with guilt for that. even though they’re all adults, seeing them brings all of that back up for me, and i get really mad. really mad at my uncle, my mom for teaching me that abuse was okay. that when you can’t control something, you just hit and yell and let the consequences be damned.

[i have to note i didn’t get it anywhere near as bad as some of my cousins which also fills me with guilt that i couldn’t shelter him from that.]

i don’t know if that’s why i am incapable of having a relationship. if that’s why i need to feel a bit of pain in order to feel truly satisfied from sex. if that’s why i do think of offing myself from time to time. if that’s why i’m so damaged.

but i’m sure it doesn’t help any.

and that’s why i saw red when i heard this story today. so fuck adrian peterson. fuck anyone who tries to defend his action. fuck the nfl. fuck my uncle and my mother. you don’t beat your child. period.