In my mother’s eyes, I failed to see how fortunate I was, which contributed to her justification for abusing me. For example, my mother loved to cook what she called “salmon patties and I could not stand the smell or taste them. (I get nauseated at the smell to this day) I would sit and dawdle at the table for hours, every once in a while, trying to get a bite down my throat without gaging. I knew what awaited me if I didn’t finish.