Some 76 years after my mother harnessed me, it brought back the total anger and humiliation of wearing one, hating every second, not wanting to be seen in my despair by any other human being. I remember once shutting my eyes as I walked blotting out the disgrace. Naturally, I fell down.
I've forgiven my mother for a lot of things: trying to annul my marriage, getting custody of my daughter (the social services found no reason and told me they wished all parents were like me) and asking our neighbors if they thought me and my female roommate were gay (we weren't).
Compared to children who are beaten, putting a harness on a child can't be described as child abuse. It could even be considered loving them, protecting them from dashing into traffic or getting misplaced at a mall. My mother also did many loving things: art projects, reading to me, playing games. When I was a teen she would drive me by a certain boy's house. I had a crush on him.
I've forgiven my ex husband for things that he did that reduced the quality of my life BUT I also take responsibility for my part in any disagreement. And then there's the gratitude that a wonderful daughter and a divorce improved my life.
If I had the communication skills I have now, I might have fought the harness. At three, I could have started screaming when she went near the harness and flailed so violently that she would have had to sedate me to put it on me. I really wish I had.
I will never, never, never forgive her for harnessing me. Even seeing Keith in the harness created a knot in my stomach. Harnesses on kids are rare now, but when I see one, I want to go up and tell the parents, please don't. So far I've resisted.
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