An Appropriate Reaction
As a child I dropped a bowl of ice cream. The bowl shattered and I stained the rug. I started sobbing, because I expected to be yelled at, or even hit, because I’d broken a bowl from a set, and had stained the carpet. Instead, something completely different happened.
My step-mom told me to stop crying and said she’d serve me more ice cream. I was confused. I broke a bowl, that’s a bad thing, why am I still getting my treat? She told me she knew I didn’t mean it, and the bowl was less important than my own safety.
That was the first time any woman my father had dated (including my own mother) had ever treated me kindly. It was the first time I realized not all women are like that, and I wasn’t necessarily destined to grow up to be a woman like my mother.