My father still frightens me without raising his voice

Dear Delyara, That’s the part people don’t understand. He doesn’t need to shout. He can say my name in a certain tone, pause before answering, or use that measured disappointed voice, and I can feel my entire body move backward in time. I become quicker to explain, easier to blame, smaller in my own certainty. The worst part is how invisible it looks. From the outside, it is just a conversation. From the inside, it is old fear waking up in my chest before I can even decide whether what he is saying deserves that much power anymore. I hate that he can still do that. I hate even more that some part of me still yields. I am a grown woman, and there are still moments after speaking to him where I sit in my car and feel twelve years old and furious about it.