My parents are divorced and have been since I was three years old, so I don’t remember their marriage. From what I’m told it was horrible. I grew up having concepts and opinions shoved into my brain by my mother, regarding my dad and how he wasn’t worthy to be considered a father. I heard things I never should have never heard come out of my mother’s mouth about my dad, trying to sway me from loving him. It never worked but it bothers me that she tried to turn his own daughter away from him. As a mother I could never talk bad to N about her dad, no matter what my opinion of him is. That sort of stuff really messes with your head.
When I was a kid my dad ‘toured’ and played shows with his band. He was gone a lot of the time but he did what he could to be there for me. He would write me letters and buy me souvenirs. That’s not how it was portrayed by my mom. She would tell me that he didn’t want me or that he was off doing other things; that I wasn’t important. If he called to say he couldn’t pick me up for the weekend she would say that he didn’t care about me and reflecting on it almost brings me to tears because she is not a mother to me. My dad has been my mother, my father, my friend through my 23 years of life. My “mother” has abandoned me more times than I can count on two hands. She would hide away in her room and make me watch her kids, clean the house, make meals, all before the age of 13. I recall a time when I was 14 and she left for the weekend to stay with her boyfriend, leaving me alone with no food in the house. I remember times where she told me how horrible I was or that I was going to end up “knocked up” by the age of 16, calling me a slut. My mother is no mother. Maybe she has the title because she grew me in her womb, and I have her blood, but she’s not any mother of mine.
She kicked me out when I was 14 because she was angry with me over the fact that I wanted to live with my dad more than her, and rightfully so. I wanted out of there so badly. She was married to someone who verbally and mentally abused me, who called me names, who yelled at me and gave me punishments for things that I shouldn’t have been punished for. I was grounded once because when I shared a room with my then toddler brother, he made a mess of things, and somehow that was my fault. My dad was on his way to pick me up for the weekend and my moms husband threatened to fight him in the driveway because I was in “trouble”. I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, with the wrong people. But I was able to escape that nightmare and finally move in with my dad. I was home at last.
I love my dad. I go above and beyond to make him proud of me. I’ve made stupid choices in the past, like leaving at the age of 18 to live with a controlling and abusive boyfriend, two days before my high school graduation. He still showed up to see me walk and get my diploma. He has always loved and cared about me and I have never doubted that.
Sometimes I find myself getting really sad because my dad and step-mom will go off and do things and not include me. At least it feels like I’m forgotten. Maybe I’m not but I guess my abandonment issues get the best of me and I automatically get myself upset over it. If they go out to dinner without me, I stop myself from saying “thanks for the invite” or something sarcastic to hide how I really feel about it. I’ve said how I feel countless times before and it never changes anything, so I just stopped expressing how I felt about it. If they go do something fun, I’m not included usually. Even if you think I’m busy, it’s nice to be included. But I never am.
Brandon gets the short end of the stick a lot of the time. When I scroll through my Facebook news feed and see their check in to some place cool, I get sad. I cry about it. I get really upset over these things and I don’t know if it’s normal to feel the way I do, because I do see them occasionally. I’m seeing them today but I just feel alone when it comes to being a part of my family, I guess. Brandon is the one holding me and wiping my tears when I get sad over it, and we’re going today and I’ll be happy with my family but deep down I am going to feel hurt and unimportant, and Brandon will sit there across from me and know that I’m aching over it.
I love my family so much and I hate that I have these issues that hold me back from normality. All I can say is that it sucks.