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This was not in the worst neighborhood, but yet not the greatest either. I was subject to being awakened in the middle of the night to break in and robbery attempts that it became necessary for my family to designate a safe place to meet in case of a threatening emergency. I didn’t know this was not your typical childhood mind you. This was normal for me.

Heh. I live there now: city, bad part, drug house+ adjacent. I'm lulled to sleep by the sound of gunfire, automatic and otherwise. Oddly enough, it's the safest place I've ever lived. The door on this house has clearly been kicked in before; the locks are a joke. I've had it broken into while I was home once.

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And I can guess that you will minimize what you have suffered in comparison.

You got it! When I tried to talk about why I didn't want to talk in group therapy (reminds me of The National's song Ada: "Ada don't talk about reasons why you don't wanna talk about reasons why you don't wanna talk"), I said that I was scared that folks would say it was worse than it was, and that they would say it wasn't so bad.

I read your story and I think, "well at least my dad didn't..." And I think, well, I had my grandparents nearby, and they were awesome. I think about everything I had (great teachers, a nice quiet library nearby, a garage with-a-lock that I could play in), and I keep thinking that it wasn't so bad. I can't see myself in your story: but you're right, I would try to not "let" you minimize it or say it wasn't The Suck. I would listen, and say that it had to have a profound effect on you, and that it was traumatic and probably disturbing and harder than I can imagine to deal with.