I had a stepfather too. He was an ass of epic proportions, all of us hated him, except for mom. He treated us like dirt, but he treated my mother like a queen. It was the only reason we put up with him. Our mother was great, made the sacrifice to be with him just to provide a better life for us kids. He became a bully (towards us) when he drank. Retribution is one hell of a payback though, as old step dad learned when my brother was 18. We all got apologies that day...
It sounds like we had similar upbringings...
Rebecca
Sounds about like it.
I left at age 20 for military service. Not that an uncle nick named "Buddy" who had gone through 'Nam as infantry, or a Pap who was in WWII as the same hadn't "brought me up" in it. Learned basic infantry from uncle Buddy as a boy thinking it was kids games.
Then, a day came when they together dropped me off at a "friend's". This friend had been with Delta. He was in a wheelchair in part due to service. Told he would never walk. He taught me there's discipline and abuse, and the vast difference between them.
I, a young snot of a kid, back mouthed him when he asked me to do something. Walk or not he got out his chair and come across the room and kicked the tar out of me. Then, "help me back to the chair, please." "Sir."
Took years and still reflecting on that lesson. He told me it would be that, too. "What did you learn?"
"To not smart mouth you."
"You got more than that. It'll come, now back to, ..."
And so at age 20 I left because my two brothers (half brothers) could still keep a daddy. I never had one to speak of really. Mine just donated sperm and ran. I was an "accident". And an accident by which my mom proved modern medicine wrong. She had been told she would never.
So yeah, call me a mama's boy if you want. *chuckles* Quite true but will tell you I know my mom got shinier brass balls than most admirals, bigger ones too. *chuckles*
Can always recall her "loving" pep talks with us. "Get up boy, you ain't hurt!" We could have bones protruding but up we got and went on. Yes, she tended us and had us looked after if need were dire. Still that was her way of keeping us from seizing up in terror, pain.
We've figured on her tombstone we're putting an expression she used once. She had a panic attack and went to hospital in squad. The guy in back with her told us what she said all the way up. "I ain't got time for this shit." Everyone including her thought heart attack until it was ruled out.
So yeah, I'm a mama's boy. All six foot and three hundred pounds of me. *sighs* If I could keep the damn weight off I'd be lolly right as rain. Life though, ... *sigh*
Then again, reckon that's fair size for a Sasquatch. *chuckles*