In my entire childhood nobody hurt me as much as my mother’s sister did. I think that she is one of the evilest persons I have ever encountered because all her violence was directed to a little girl who was abandoned, trying to fit in a unknown family and couldn’t defend herself.
This violence was verbal, treating me poorly and calling me names. She used to fat-shame me or call me dwarf so I became very self aware at a very young age. I remember trying to do diets at the very early age of 10. Looking back, I was a very normal-looking child.
I remember when I was 8 my grand mother bought me a blouse tied by a knot and you could see some belly skin out of it. This aunt told me “Why are you wearing that? that does not look good in a fat girl like you”… I never wore that blouse again thinking that my body was not fit enough for it and I was only 8 years old.
Some other times was my size, my skin color (her skin tone is slightly clearer than mine), or saying hurtful things about my mother.
When I was a teenager I started to defend myself from her attacks and the relationship degrade to the point that I wanted to actually punch her bad. Now she doesn’t speak to me and that’s the best but I carry the scars of all her hate deep inside.