Tag Archives: parenting

March 11, 2011 · 2:47 pm

The First Time My Parents Got Divorced

The first time I realised that one is still a child at heart and that the very prospect of your parents getting divorced, your age notwithstanding, will affect you, I was 32.

Nobody ever told me that no matter how grown I was, I would still feel utterly crushed, that I would throw tantrums, be sad, upset and depressed and feel betrayed. I found out the hard way.

Now, let me make it clear that my parents never got divorced, in

fact we just came back from a family holiday together, they talk some, fight some, mistrust each other some,

but I guess for whatever reason they seem to tolerate each other.

When I first found out about it, and I am the only person who knows that my mother asked for a divorce, I was devastated and sad for my father. I don’t even want to relive that period in my life, it was awful to say the least.

Nevertheless, almost a year later, loads of crying later, I am gradually accepting that it is a possibility. I have acquired more wisdom and I realise that it will hurt if it happens, but there is not much I can do about it. They are adults, just like I am and I just have to make a conscious choice to have a happy marriage which I will.

I also made a conscious choice not to interfere in their business or take sides, which I had done throughout the ordeal. My peacemaking ends with me. I realised that sometimes, in trying to help and bring solace, one cannot prevent emotions from interfering. I am not married yet, but maybe there is a lot I am yet to understand. However, I constantly pray for a wonderful, wonderful soul, who will be my husband and the father of our beautiful children.

In the meantime I leave my parents to God, may God grant them the wisdom to make the right decisions. For myself I pray for peace and contentment with the decision that will be made.

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February 21, 2011 · 3:30 pm

My First Goodbye Letter to My Distant Father

My Father,

To simply begin with I’d like to say that I love you. I love you very much, but at a distance. Being around you honestly makes my skin crawl most of the time. I do not have an undying need to see you, talk to you, or really acknowledge your presences. I am grateful for all the times that you were there for me and then things that you did for me. Putting a roof over my head, giving me a warm bed to sleep in, and purchasing my truck for me (out of guilt nonetheless).

But some of the things that you did for me, and to me, drove me away. You smothered me as a teenager. After the divorce, you were lonely and scared, which is completely normal. You, much like Ma, didn’t have the physical or emotional means to take care of yourself, much less me.  As a result of your unhappiness, I was ignored by you. The fatherly role ceased to exist. You closed in on yourself and shut everyone and every daily task out. You got lost in the bottle and in your thoughts. Thus, I fend for myself.  I became an adult before I had to. I was independent and I was going to do whatever it took to be strong.

Once I gained my new-found independence and I learned that I was perfectly ok standing on my own two feet, I never, ever wanted help again. You were not my father. You were my housemate. I cooked, cleaned, and went about my business as usual.

My first rejection to you is when you wanted me to sleep in your bed because of the pending thunderstorms, which you knew I was absolutely terrified of. As a kid, I thought this was perfect sound. As an adult, no 12-year-old kid should be sleeping in their parents bed. I remember you wanting to “hug” me when we slept. Sorry, but you were wrong. That’s called spooning as adults, and I may I remind you that it’s not ok to say hi in the ways that you did. After I felt that something was wrong, I separated myself from the situation and suppressed as much of the memory as possible. It really honestly wasn’t until this past year that I realized I was 1 of 4. I had been violated in ways that I shouldn’t have been. At least it now explains a lot about how I feel and why I consistently fail at relationships.

The second reason I rejected you is because you never allowed me to breathe. Once I gained my independence, you decided it was time to try to be my parent again. Wrong. You stopped being my parent and I didn’t need you to start again. You were afraid of losing me, or me making a mistake. Well, one, you had already lost me. And, two, mistakes build character and they are good for your soul. Finally, if you thought that keeping me at home versus letting me go spend time with friends (which I actually had free time) was going to make me love you more, you are dead ass wrong. It made me hate you and I still do.

Finally, I don’t ever want you to pretend to be my father ever again. You are an acquaintance that I am required to go see once a year to make other people happy. You didn’t support me when I really needed you to, so don’t ever think for a second that I will lean on you again. You missed my high school and my college graduation and then gave me complete and utter bullshit excuses. I don’t need your drama or your bullshit. You lack of thought about “how your kids would feel” when you decided to propose, another mistake. I may not be around but you don’t ever expect me to be happy for you when you have made a rash, irresponsible decision. Especially one made when your father is on his death-bed. Furthermore, even though you don’t see it, your wife, GoldDigger, is just that, a gold digger. She’ll drain everything that you have and leave you in the end. Personally, you’re a sorry sack of blind shit if you don’t see that because everyone else does.

So before I sign off and bid my final farewell to you, you need to know two things. One, I love you. I do. But I can’t stand to be around you. Two, don’t ever try to be my parent again. It’s a failure waiting to happen. Three, if Ma knew about this, you’d be a dead man walking because I’ve got friends in low places, where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away, and I’ll be ok.

Sincerely,

The daughter that you lost and you never even knew it.

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January 27, 2011 · 10:39 am

The First Time I Felt Truly Loved

Growing up I thought I lived in a normal household, with a normal family.  My parents had their respective ‘favorite’ child/ren and the rest that they were not too fond of.  Only as I grew older and could understand what was going on in my normal family did I realise my parents were in an unhappy marriage for over 30 years.  Being the youngest child, I was the one to blame for them ‘having to stay together’. I’m not assuming this, I was told this many times by both my parents throughout my childhood and teenage years.

I knew I was not a favorite to either of them, since I was told that I am impossible to love, that I was an accident.

Only now, as an adult do I understand how my parents’ attitude to me influenced me emotionally and spiritually.

I spent most of my life pretty messed up really, looking for love in all the wrong places and becoming depressed when I find it was not what I thought it was. Finding such comfort in self-destructive behaviour and then, doing it all over again.  Over and over and over.

Only at age 30, after so long of needing to be loved so desperately, after being beaten and  broken down, did I find that I had grown up in a way.

That I did not need another cheater or abusive man in my life, I really didn’t even need my parents’ love anymore.  I was ok. I was ok, on my own.

 

There was nothing wrong with me.  The very first time I felt truly loved, it was by me. And as the corny line goes, no one else will love you if you don’t love yourself, a few months later I found someone who makes me feel, for the second time in my life, that I am truly loved.

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