Don't be sorry for me. I learned valuable lessons from all the abuse growing up. I learned early on that people can be dangerous and evil. I learned to not trust those who are in authority over you and to question their motives. Sure, I had to relearn those lessons a few times again.

Sadly, my sister went on to become a chronic meth user after my uncle introduced her to the drug. She then drifted from that to eventually just hooking up with any guy who could provide drugs but along the way she ruined the reputation of men who would have been better off if they had never met her. She became a habitual liar and manipulator. I refuse to even let her near me or speak to her and my friends won't let her on their property.

My brother was abusive early on because, well, it's just his nature but being abused just made him worse. Neither one of them ever learned to be functionally literate so I can't blame them too much for who they are. At least my brother is a somewhat productive person in life as he does lawn care but after a few times of him ingratiating himself into my good graces and then turning on me for his own ego I learned to never allow myself to be involved with him. If it was legal I'd sooner kick him in the balls than talk to him so it's better I just avoid him. Currently I've heard he became a church goer but had a run in with another parishioner after he talked abusively to the man's crippled wife. The man threatened that if he ever spoke to his wife in that manner again he would get a thrashing on the church steps. Recently he flew out to meet our long lost mother who told the care giver that she never wanted to speak to him again. Dang, that made me laugh for some reason. Even our own mother who abandoned us can't stand him but she begged to speak to me on the phone. Instead I wrote her long letters after she apologized for her abuse of me as a toddler and told her I forgave her wish in her last days she knows she has my forgiveness. I carved her a very nice cane from an orange tree, polished it to a high sheen and sent it too her. Her care giver told me she went all over the hospice boasting that her favorite son made it for her. Being called her favorite son is the best revenge I couldn't have thought up in my wildest dreams.

You're right. I just didn't see it as being something special. A child should never need to "earn" or "prove" his love for the parent. It's our job to prove we care by constantly nurturing, guiding, and being ever watchful for our children's safety and well being. Sure, we must at times give them a chance to learn unhappy lessons, delayed gratification, withholding treats when they don't live up to a bargain.

I stayed for several years in the second house a coworker owned right next to her own house. Her boyfriend was so negligent it was worrisome but when she asked me to do landscaping on the property in my spare time her son invariably would spend most of his day with me. What a monster he was but there was never a day he didn't make me laugh. He was always trying to manipulate me so I played psyop wars with him, reverse psychology and all sorts of things to get him on track. At by four years old he was following me around all day, learning the names of every tool I owned, bringing them too me, learning different screw sizes and picking up trash. I taught him to demand to be paid. Oh yes. I drummed that into his head and he caught on like a shark. He loved sweets so I had to sort of wean him off a bit with head games. He had to learn to get money since I was teaching him to pay for his own things when he went to the store with me. He had to ask his dad permission every time and I taught him to ask for money. (heheheh, let that dead beat dad learn what it's all about too!".) His dad learned to never deny him a trip to the corner market! One day, I reneged on his pay of chewing gum. "Oh kay, I don't work". You bet I paid up. Best day ever, we stopped on the way back to watch a couple guys doing some sewage work and the contractor came over to say hello and chatted a bit with me. Little monster kept quiet for a bit then looked the guy straight in his face and said, "Stop talking and go work!". We almost died laughing. I taught him well.