father’s day

Father’s Day Feels

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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.

Father’s day

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Father’s day has never been my favorite. I never feel like I can say that since I know there are people out there who have lost their dads, and I also know there are people who are close with their dads who are still here. My dad and I have an improved relationship now that I have been out of the house for about six years now, but it’s still not my favorite.

I do love my dad, but I cannot say that I really like him entirely. I’d like to say I have forgiven him for what he’s done in the past, but that’s probably a lie and I definitely haven’t forgotten. I don’t sit and dwell on the past anymore like I used to, but I also won’t pretend that my dad was a great parent.

Apparently in my younger years he was very involved and happy to be around me, but once I turned seven everything changed. My dad’s cousin brought us a computer for my seventh birthday, and although it was for me, my dad said it was for him. I was able to use the computer sometimes, but for the most part my dad got lost in music and MySpace. When he’d get home from work, he’d go right to the computer and stay there for the remainder of the evening.

Another thing that happened was my grandpa (mom’s dad) died when I was seven. This sent my mom spiraling into alcoholism which my dad willingly followed her. My parents drank every single night, and although this was to “help my mom sleep,” instead it left me with restless nights of listening to their drunken rages against each other. The weekends were always worse because the drinking started earlier.

I’m now twenty-five, and they still drink every night. Luckily I moved out at 19, and it took time to stop the obsessive worrying about if my mom was okay or not, but now I know it is not my problem and there is nothing I can do about it. People will only change if they want to. Not once have they tried to get sober, and I hope they realize that this will have quite an effect on them once I decide to have children, because I cannot trust them to watch my child with their alcohol addiction.

Recently during a phone conversation, my mom tried to tell me that my dad “was nice for the most part,” to which I simply told her that was not true. I reminded her of the time where during an argument my dad screamed at me and said “who pays for the health insurance that you’re about to need if you don’t shut the f*ck up.” Of course she didn’t remember this (as they both are always drunk) and started apologizing. The intention was not to guilt trip, I was simply stating a fact.

Just because I have grown up and done well with my life, doesn’t mean that we can just pretend the traumatic shit that happened didn’t happen. Yes, I have moved on and the relationships have been civil, however that does not erase history. I don’t really prefer to talk about what happened with my parents, because my dad lives in denial and my mom lives in guilt; it’s not worth having a conversation over.

Despite everything I have been through, I did see my dad for father’s day, and I also gave him a gift that I made him which he appreciated. I do wish that he would do some self-reflection and realize what he did and how he needs to change, but at the same time it’s not my problem.