What qualifies for #MeToo

The most traumatic experience with my father, among many, was the time he dragged me by my hair out of my bedroom. I was 12 or so, watching television on my 12-inch black-and-white TV, and writing in my journal. My dad popped his head in the door to see what I was doing. He didn't like the fact that I was both watching TV AND writing; he said I couldn't do both at the same time and told me to stop writing. I thought he was being silly, so kept writing. A few minutes later, he was back... He saw that I was still writing while the TV was on and grabbed me by my hair and hauled me down the hallway and dumped me in the living room.

I didn't grow up in a stereotypical "uber-lower-class" family: No parent was doing drugs or sleeping around, and my father was an enlisted Air Force man and so had a regular (albeit lower-class) income. (Though, according to my grade-school, I did qualify for reduced-price lunches, which was embarrassing to my mother; we did not take advantage of that welfare option.)

I was also, at home, constantly subject to the "fact" that I and "we" (my family) were "superior." In what way, I never could determine. I was always a smart and pretty kid in school. But at home, I was always not allowed to associate with other kids: to spend the night with girlfriends in 6th grade, to go skating at the local roller rink (my father dropped me off at the rink one time --- and forbade me to let my hair out of the pony-tail or to take off my coat; I sat there the whole time by myself, miserable, that time not daring to challenge him).

My mother ended up divorcing my father after he chased her out of the house with a gun one night (also when I was 12) --- he'd gone out one night in his suede jacket and cologne and then come home a couple of hours later and demanded she go to the bedroom with him. When she refused, I was sent to my room, but peered out to see him grapple with her and see her tear the gold chain from his neck, after which he went for the gun and she ran, and he shot after her... He collapsed into a drunken stupor soon after. Hours later, I then crept around the house to see if he was asleep, then went and looked for my mother...

At the time, I didn't think anything of it. I always went to school the next day. (Really? I didn't think anything of it?! According to the Internet, I didn't get murdered or sexually abused, so I had it easy.)