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!

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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.

door

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.