I’d like to tell you a story. It’s about a little boy who grew up in Sweden, in the ’60s and ’70s. His dad was this tall, good-looking army officer. His mom was this pretty but shy linguist. He had a brother and two sisters, and they lived in suburb of Stockholm. And that little boy was me.
I think I remember the first time my dad hit me. I was around three or four, I think I was walking in front of the TV and he kicked me, and I flew into some bookshelves. And I remember there was blood and my mom was screaming. You see, my dad had a lot of problems and he took it out on me and my mom. He never touched my brothers or sisters.
And this started when I was about three or four and went on till I was about 11 or 12. It was a really hard part of my life because I had to go to school with a black eye or, you know, some of my hair was missing because he’d been yanking my head. I think some of you may know what I’m talking about. I understand how you’re feeling.
You see, when you get abused at home, you have two choices, just like an animal: fight or flight. You can either run away, which was impossible for me because I was a little kid living at home; or you can fight back, which I couldn’t do because, you know, I was just a little kid. My dad was my size.
But I learned later there’s a third choice: you freeze. It’s like a gazelle being taken by a lion. You just freeze and go dead; all your emotions are bottled up inside. I would just lie there. When he was hitting me, I wouldn’t even cry. And, by the time I was 11 or 12, I was smoking, I was drinking, I was running away from home on stolen motorcycles, sleeping over in someone’s garage, but my dad always found me. Back home for another beating.
Continue reading “On Healing and Forgiveness – Dolph Lundgren”