How Our Parents Wounded Us Patrick Morley PhD
Most of the boys in our neighborhood , like me , were in fifth grade . But a few , like Nunny , were older . Nunny was small but fierce , a neighborhood bully who terrified us all .
One day Nunny announced he was going to beat me up and started swinging . I tried to escape by running into our house , but my dad forced me back outside to fight . It was Dad ’ s way of teaching me to stand up for myself .
Several neighbors sat on lawn chairs and spectated as Nunny and I locked in a titanic battle that spread across several front yards .
What started as a fistfight quickly turned into a wrestling match as we both began to tire . I couldn ’ t beat him up , but because of my fear-induced adrenaline , he couldn ’ t beat me up either . Eventually we were both too exhausted to continue and , without fanfare , we stopped . Although Nunny
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