The doctor and my father came out of the room together. After the doctor had gone, my father went to the table where three of my four sisters were sitting. I watched him pick up each one and comfort them. I was sitting there crying, but I was left alone, unnoticed by my dad. It doesn't do any good to feel, I decided.
Nobody cares anyway.
And so very early I learned to stuff my feelings. In the following years, I lived with several different families. I'm sure these moves were difficult for me, but I don't remember having feelings about the changes. In these families, I perceived the mother figures to be distant and unloving. Father figures were drunk, emotionally distant, or molesting me.