Disciplined by a door

While browsing on WordPress, I saw this DiscoverWP challenge that was posted by the Daily Post a couple of months ago. The challenge is to simply tell a story behind a door, real or imagined, and I became inspired to share the following story from my childhood.

The story behind a door challenge

I was raised by my grandmother from I was about six months old and as far as I can remember the generation gap has always put a strain on our relationship. One day we were having a heated argument and when I reached the peak of my teenage frustration with her, I walked away and knowing that she would be walking after me, I used all my strength to slam the bedroom door shut. And almost immediately, I unleashed one of the most agonizingly painful experiences of my life. I had slammed the door on my left index finger!


The tears came crashing out my eyes as if they had been welled up for days. My finger nail was cracked and I painstakingly watched as it turned red with blood, then reddish black, until it turned fully black. It was officially dead and so was my desire to slam a door again. It eventually fell off to allow a new nail to grow back, but not before being a painful reminder for months about what I had done. Many years would pass before I slammed a door again (but not one in this home, that was the last time). Even though I received empathy from my family members, including my grandmother, and my peers at school, I can never forget the unintentional trauma I caused on myself. I was disciplined by a door that knew that no child should slam the door on their parent/guardian.


Do you have a story about a door (real or imagined) that you would like to share? Is there anything that you can take away from my story? I would love to hear from you in the comments section.