As the eldest son of a sourhern baptist preacher, I was held to some high standards. Being seen and not heard, and that my every action was a reflection of my father as a leader to his congregation.
I found music to be great outlet, but of course any non-Christian music was not allowed and immediately destroyed upon discovery. Spare the rod, spoil the child was a mantra ingrained in my daily life.
Once I was into my teens and spankings with stretched out coat hangers was no longer enough to be considered punishment due to the lack of tears my father moved on to shaving my head. Nothing like the constant reminder of how unworthy one is once their physical source of personal identity is forcibly removed.