Father’s day is always a bit weird for me. My father is alive and still very much married to my mother, and I am not even going to say that he is a bad guy or horrible person, because he is truly just unhealed. Hurt people hurt people, and my father must suffer a lot internally. I would too if I fucked up having a genuine connection with my only child.

As a teenager I would have told you he was terrible though. I would have told you how angry and mean he was to myself and my mother when no one was around to witness it. I would have told you how the more he drank, the angrier he became, and how you could 100% tell if he took something else along with his Jaeger.

Depending on how close we were, I may have told you about the time he slapped my glasses clean off my face for standing up for myself after he called me a “bitch.” Maybe I would have told you about how he cornered me in my bathroom, while I looked behind him at my mother with fearful eyes. Maybe I would have told you that after the cops came that night and we didn’t press any charges that it somehow got even worse after that.

I would have told you that my parents didn’t love each other. Hell, I’d still probably tell you that today if I hadn’t been on the healing journey I’ve been on. Now to be able to see the wounds and codependency, and I can understand why they would feel love for one another, especially when they have been together for 35 years. I just could not be apart of a relationship like that- and I have my father to thank for that.

As fucked up as my childhood was at some points, it definitely showed me a lot of what I did not want my life to be. I always knew I wanted calm, comforting love with my future husband. I knew I wanted to be with someone who handled their emotions well, and who wasn’t an angry drinker if they did have an occasional beer.

I knew I wanted a partner who saw me as a beautiful person and addition to their life; a true teammate to do this shitty thing called life with. I knew that the man I would marry would never hurt me physically or mentally, nor would he do that to our future children. I knew I had a chance to build a life outside of those walls once I got old enough, and I can’t help but be thankful for the motivation that kept me focused.

No, it wasn’t right. The rage and hurtful words I heard and witnessed was not necessary. The control and disrespect as I became an adult who was taking classes at community college was unacceptable. The lack of love I felt and lack of support for my own emotions made me realize that I’d never have a partner like that in my life- and luckily, I have the complete opposite.

My husband makes sure that I feel beautiful every single day. He does not raise his voice, nor does he have outbursts. He respects me, as well as my values and beliefs- even if he doesn’t always hold the same beliefs. He is someone who I am proud of and happy to come home to; he is someone who makes me feel safe. I am so blessed to have him in my life, and I just know that one day, he will be the best father to our child(ren).

I still will see my father today, I just make sure to go early when no drinking is happening yet. I have set my own boundaries quietly which have worked for me to have less problems and resentment over the years. I pray that he is able to heal and face what haunts him so he can put down the bottle one day, and until then I will still love him, just from a distance.