Vulnerable

You know, the one thing that I have struggled with all my life is the feeling of being unloved. Now at the young age of 27 I have gotten over it, but it sucked the life out of me. My ability to trust was ever clouded, and I dove headfirst into a tidal wave of unhealthy relationships. Given the fact that I settled down with my husband at 16-years-old says a lot.

Let me start from the beginning.

I guess you could say I’m an observant person. Looking up at the world, and the two people I have as parents through what should have been the eyes of innocence was never the case for me. I knew more than I ever said. The fact that my mom did everything for my dad without fail as a stay at home. Even when he never came home or stayed out with his friends partying. Don’t get me wrong, he was a good dad. Financially, he made sure we were okay. Emotionally is a completely different story.

Life was comfortable for the first ten years of my life. My dad moved us around a lot. Mainly, due to new employment, or better opportunity. I remember always being the new kid. My ability to lie and tell tall tales meant I could make my life into anything I wanted to with my new friends because I knew it wouldn’t last long.

I was about 10-years-old when I noticed something was wrong. Besides the dreams of my dad lying in bed with a strange woman doing unsavory things, we lost our home. Next thing I knew, my mom was closing a storage unit that housed all my childhood things, and we were crammed into a trailer with my three cousins, my uncle, my mom, and me. Once I entered middle school I started to live from one friend's house to another, just to avoid the screaming bouts my parents had with each other whenever they were in the same room.

Drugs, alcohol, and a string of colorful pills filled Junior High. I lost my memory and my virginity. By high school I could barely remember what my dad looked like. My last memory of him was being dropped off at the house my mom shared with 10 other relatives by my dad when I was barely 14. It was last time I would see him until I was well into my 20s with a family of my own.

High school went well enough until my mom had to uproot us to go back to her home state to help with my grandmother. 2500 miles later I left everything I was finally building for myself to be thrown back into another hell I didn’t want to be in. Booze and sex helped numb the fact that I didn’t want to be there. If you can’t tell I had a lot of depression that I wouldn’t realize I had until I was 19.

I met my husband when I was 16 and he was 18. It wasn’t all fairy tales. Our whole relationship has been a struggle. He was as broken as I was. We welcomed our first daughter when I turned 18. We lived with my mom for a short period until we got our own apartment where we did well for a span of time. Our youngest daughter came into our lives short after that.

By no means were we upstanding parents. Struggle after struggle made us grow up quickly. My husband has his struggles to this day, but he has come a long way and I am so proud of him.

Fast forward.

My parents have recently gotten back together, and my dad moved out here. He isn’t the same person I remember. He is crueler, more selfish. Unfortunately, my husband, the girls, and me have had to live with my parents for the past several years because pay checks can’t keep up with rent. I would never recommend living with your parents, but they opened their home to us. We are grateful, but it does not come without judgement.

M husband and my dad are two different people. I didn’t wish to marry anyone like my dad, and I didn’t.

We will be moving on with our lives shortly. I’m writing this during the chaos I do not wish my children to be around any further.

This is from my point and view, and you may come to any conclusion you wish. I have not been the perfect daughter by any means. My mother has suffered the most, but I cannot live regretting the past. What is done is done. It gave me my beautiful children and my best friend. I do not need approval from an abandoned father who was no more than a pay check when I needed a role model.

Now I may seem cruel, but I only learned from the best. This is written with no disregard for anyone’s feelings.

I want anyone who has felt unloved to know that no matter who your parents are, you are better than they are. They were broken, so they broke you. Do not let them step on the pieces you have been spent your whole life picking up. You glue yourself back together and be better than that.

You’re not alone...