My parents had a tumultuous relationship. It seemed like no one was very happy most of the time. My mom didn’t want me to come from a broken home. But which is worse? Staying or leaving? Both have pros and cons but one has to eventually win, if that’s what you want to call it.

My mom constantly walked on eggshells around my dad and to be quite frank so did I. He wasn’t physically abusive but he was nasty in his own way. He would wait until one of us was out of the room and then he would be nasty to the one that was still in the room. He’d say things like “I know you wish I would die” or “Why didn’t you do x, y, and z?” It never ending.

I’d stick up for my mom when I could but most of the time it made things worse. And how much was I really doing at 6, 7, and 8 years old? Not much I can tell you that.

My dad was just an unhappy man. If a man can have a resting bitch face, he had one. I guess it came with his upbringing, being the only boy of seven children. I’m sure he wasn’t shown much love. Hell, he lied about his age when he was sixteen-years-old just so he could join the Navy and get away from his family. From what I know his house was really strict. No wonder he ended up the way he was, but that’s still no excuse to talk to people like they area piece of crap.

And the saddest part was that everything he went through he put on me. If I did something he thought was wrong, I’d get a whipping to where I had his handprint, whelps included, on my leg. And then the next day I would get a new barbie, candy, or most of the time both. I honestly thought even into my twenties and thirties that my dad didn’t love me. I thought he didn’t care. Now, because of therapy, I know he just didn’t know how to show love so the bad things far outweighed the good in my mind. It’s unfortunate.

Do I remember good times? Yes, but I have to search for them. I have to make a conscientious effort to wade through the bad memories and specifically look for the good memories. It’s work, let me tell you. A couple years back, my therapist challenged me to make a list of all the good memories I had with my dad and I made a list of about 40 happy times. I wish I could put my hands on the notebook that has that list in it but I wasn’t as much into bullet journaling as I am now and it just went into a random notebook. I’m going to end up making a whole new list and I’m hoping I come up with even more good memories.

Most of my good memories are from when I was younger, when I got to be a teenager and moved over to public school, that’s when my dad said all our problems started. Sorry to say this Daddy, but we had problems WAY before then.

I was the ultimate demise of my parent’s marriage. One day I had enough and told my mom it was either we left or she would never see me again. Looking back that’s kind of ominous isn’t it? What did I really mean when I said “She would never see me again”? Was I going to run away? I was too much of a baby to do that. Was I going to kill myself? Hell no, that’s permanent and has never been in my thoughts. Was I going to magically disappear? Most likely not. I have absolutely no idea what I meant, I just know I didn’t want to live in that situation any more. To this day, I don’t know how my mom interpreted it. (I’ll probably find out after she reads this blog post though.) But whatever the case, we left.

I do believe that had I never said that, my parents would have stayed married. And if they had, my life after would have been so much different. What I DO know is that I wouldn’t change anything in my life because it’s gotten me where I am today.

And I LOVE where I am today! Living in Indiana with my incredible husband, my four wonderful boys, my amazing mom, and my awesome mother-in-law wo lives about 15 minutes away from us.

Everything really does happen for a reason, doesn’t it?