When I was a kid, I liked to read. My parents hated me reading, they wouldn't buy me books, they wanted me to play outside with kids. I read everywhere, from the living room, in the car, at parties, on the beach, at friend's sleep overs, etc. I wanted to become an editor. I used the book trade in program at the Library, but that got old after no one would bring in books. I started to resort to stealing books. I never got caught, except for my mom catching me. My mom BAKER ACTED me said I was suicidal (because I just wanted to read books), I got out after a few days, and then something happened at my house that landed me in juvi for a week or so, and when I got out I was put on probation for a year. My mom and dad weren't abusive in the fact they starved me and punched me and slapped me, they just didn't do that. But, one night, when I got home from my high school soccer game, my dad was drunk and said he didn't want me in the house (I remember being rowdy and loud, we had lost our game but I was pumped from adrenaline, and just happy to be home to read my book, quiet in my room). He pushed me outside and I was trying to leave, but he slammed the garage door on me. It ended up hurting soo bad. My mom called the cops, and they came to the house, I was hysterical and could hardly talk except to say he hit me with the door. The cops ended up taking me in and putting me behind bars. My dad said I was a danger to them and he wanted me arrested. I had the biggest bruise on my hip from that door slamming on me, the size of a softball. When in juvi, they had CPS come out and take pictures of me. They went and talked to my dad and they eventually sent me a letter stating the case was dismissed.
I was 15 years old. I was a book worm. The only thing I did wrong was stealing, and instead of being treated like a criminal, I should have paid fines and maybe do some community service. But, going into the mental hospital for reading books, going to jail for my dad pushing me out of the house and hurting me, getting on probation for a year, it was too much punishment for a kid. Not to mention how embarrassing it was when I went back to school, changing in the locker room, they could see my bruise, explaining to people where I was for weeks, them thinking I was crazy for going to the Mental Hospital and then going to jail and then being on probation.
Looking back now, it's amazing to me that my parent's really thought I was a problematic child, I see my siblings and cousins with their kids and I was a breeze in the park.