Be The Change

By Saloni Jain

Imagine a boy around seven years old, sitting quietly in his room while his parents fought and abused each other, their harsh words echoing through the house. For them, it was just for fun, a regular occurrence. 

"Oh, motherfucker, how could you do this?" his mother shouted. 

"Oh dear, you are such a sisterfucker. Yeah, yeah, I only did that, right?" his father retorted, laughing. 

The boy witnessed these exchanges casually, as if they were a normal part of life. He didn't flinch or question the words; they were as routine to him as the sound of the television in the background. 

As the boy grew up and entered his teenage years, this environment of verbal abuse had become ingrained in him. It was normal for him to hear such language. He observed his parents' interactions, absorbing every word, every laugh. Whether they were on the phone, with friends, or just talking to each other, the language never changed. Slowly, this exposure became a habit for him. 

In school, the boy began to replicate what he had learned at home. He would call his friends names, using the same abusive language he heard from his parents. "Motherfucker" and "sisterfucker" became part of his everyday vocabulary. At first, it was just for fun, mimicking the behavior he saw at home. But as time went on, it became clear that he was developing a mindset that it was okay to include girls in his abuse. 

He didn't think twice before using derogatory terms when talking to or about girls. To him, it was just another way to speak, another form of expression that had been normalized by his parents. He didn't respect girls much, seeing them as targets for his verbal abuse just as his parents had targeted each other. 

The boy's behavior began to impact his relationships. Girls in his class avoided him, uncomfortable with his language and attitude. Teachers noticed but chalked it up to typical teenage rebellion, not realizing the depth of the issue. The boy, now a young man, found himself increasingly isolated but didn't connect his loneliness to his behavior. 

As he entered adulthood, the habit was fully entrenched. In his workplace, he continued to use derogatory terms, often laughing them off as jokes. His colleagues were offended, but many were too intimidated to confront him. His relationships with women were strained; he couldn't understand why they didn't stick around, why they seemed so sensitive to his words.

One day, during a heated argument with a female colleague, he called her a "motherfucker." The room fell silent. The woman, hurt and angry, reported him to HR. This incident became a turning point. Facing disciplinary action and the threat of losing his job, he was forced to confront his behavior. 

In a mandatory counseling session, he began to unravel the roots of his abusive language. He talked about his childhood, the constant fights between his parents, and how those words had become a part of his daily life. The counselor helped him see the connection between his upbringing and his current behavior. It was a painful realization. 

Slowly, with a lot of effort, he started to change. He worked on replacing abusive language with respectful words. He began to understand the impact of his words on others, especially women. It was a difficult journey, but he was determined to break the cycle that had been passed down to him. 

He started attending support groups, learning to express his feelings without resorting to abuse. He apologized to those he had hurt and worked hard to rebuild his relationships. Over time, he began to see women not as targets for his anger but as equals deserving of respect. 

The boy who had grown up in a toxic environment was now a man striving to create a positive one. He understood that change was possible, but it required acknowledging the past and making a conscious effort to do better. And so, he continued on his journey, determined to never let the cycle of abuse define his future.

By Saloni Jain