The Perspective of Divorce and Favoritism from an Eldest Child

My mother and father had good jobs, and a very healthy relationship. They had been married a few years by the time they had me. When I came into their lives, everything seemed in its place. We had two cars in the garage, a nice pool, fancy dinner plates, the whole middle class suburban package. My brother was born when I was three, and that’s when my earliest memories start. My brother was born very sick and premature which made my mom cling to him and he instantly became everything to her. This was made very apparent in the following months/Years. My mom and dad stopped showing affection towards each other, my mom spent all her time with my brother by her side. My parents started to get into more fights, This one at Christmas I remember vividly. My brother and I opened the last shared gift, it was Candy Land. My parents were having a shouting match in the kitchen, they never saw us open it. We never played it. A short while later my dad stopped coming home, at the age of 6 I didn’t understand. My parents wouldn’t tell me they got divorced. I figured it out at the age of 12. My mom would just say he’s working or at a friends house. With my dad no longer at home or in the weekday picture. I had no one on my side. It was my mom and my brother vs me. As you might assume, This put a lot of tension between me and my brother. We would soon grow to hate each other, we’d bicker and fight more than our parents. My mom would always say it’s my fault. My dad no longer really having any responsibility in our well being besides every other weekend. (Which he would forget on occasion.) started reliving his glory days, joined a “rock n’ roll” band, and that would soon become the center of his world. Plus all the perks of vices that came with it. On weekends he was supposed to have us he’d constantly leave us at unsafe/sketchy baby sitters, or if he couldn’t find one, he’d just bring us to his gigs. A bar isn’t fun when you’re little and can’t even spell the word alcohol. Then when I was 8 my mother decided to go back to school, and sometimes she wouldn’t have baby sitters or my dad would forget/show up late. So I had to become the caretaker of my brother for awhile. Which I don’t know if you’ve ever had to take care of someone you don’t particularly like, but it ain’t easy. This led to more resentment between my brother and I. one night when my mom didn’t come home at all, and at almost 9 I had to put my brother asleep and stay alone in big, dark, scary house. It started to make me resent her too. The early years of adolescence/ young adulthood were hard. At this point my mom and I grew incredibly distant. All of our talks were arguments, and everything wrong was my fault. Throughout the years My parents both had a string of relationships with awful people that didn’t last long. A couple of my dads girlfriends son’s had molested me, I wouldn’t reveal this to anyone till much much later. My mom in the end still doesn’t believe me. She to this day is still single, My father would eventually remarry to his current wife. She’s been the most like a mom to me, as she’s been in my life for 11 years. The first of those years were also extremely difficult. I was still dealing with the hurt, trying to fix my relationship with my brother, and dealing with anger from my parents divorce. Plus I was trying to get adjusted to having a parental figure that gave us rules and boundaries. Something my brother and I were not used too. I’m currently nearing my mid twenties and I’ve learned a lot about life and love, but the most important thing I’ve learned is playing favorites suck, divorces are messy, and if you think your choices only affect you...you’re wrong. I don’t know what had the bigger impact on my life, the divorce or the favoritism but I can tell you, my brother and I are slowly still on the up and up. We have days where we want to hit each other but I love him. My mom and I on the other hand, have plateaued. We Exchange pleasantries on the holidays, but that’s really it and as sad as it is to say, I feel that’s all it ever will be.

“All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.” Mitch Albom, The Five People You Meet in Heaven