I
had a wonderful childhood. I really have nothing to complain about. I had the
picture perfect life, and a happy family. It was me, my mom, my dad, and my
brother. My grandparents also lived with us for the majority of my life.
I thought I had the happiest, most complete family in the world.
I thought I had the happiest, most complete family in the world.
I
had never questioned whether or not my parents were in love. I was so positive
they were. They never really fought or got loud or got angry - which I thought
was a good thing - they just wouldn’t talk sometimes. It was rare to see them
kiss, but I never thought anything of it. Physical touch didn’t happen too
much; I was in my elementary school years, I never even noticed.
It
was during my sophomore year in high school when everything took a turn.
October 2011. My older brother was in his second year attending Humboldt
State University
My
mom had a friend in the area. An old boyfriend actually. I had know his family practically my whole
life… I didn’t know him too well. He was in and out of jail for years. Growing
up, I remember always getting collect calls on the house phone. My mom had me go with her to visit him in jail
once. He was nice. He was released from jail around July and a few months
later, my mom met up with him to catch up.
After dinner my mom wanted to step
out really quickly to see this old flame, because when they got together to
catch up, he left something in her car. I wanted to go with her so I could see
his nephews, who were my really good friends. My mom asked my dad if it was
okay that I joined her. He hesitated. And denied the request. My mom had never
asked my dad permission to take me anywhere. I stayed behind with my dad and
our family friends. I felt a slight tension in the whole room but it was never
really acknowledged. Something was up.
It
wasn’t until November that I had finally decided to ask.
My
dad was at work but I could not hold it inside of me long enough to wait until
he got home. My mom sat down. And I asked her. I actually asked her. Her answer
was everything I was worried that it was going to be. Divorce. My dad was
moving out in January. She was back with her old boyfriend.
My
parents were still friends. Which made me wonder even more why this all needed
to happen. The picture perfect family I had, wasn’t all that perfect. They were
never in love, they said.
My
brother, who was away at college, didn’t know anything that was going on. That
is, until he visited in December for Christmas. You wanna know the day my mom
decided to tell my brother the news? Christmas Eve! After my dad had gone to
sleep. My brother explained that he had honestly seen it coming. The majority
of his friends' parents were in love, and he could tell. How naïve does that
make me, thinking everything was okay. Thinking that when I was a flower girl
at their second wedding, they were going to be together forever. Thinking that
when I grow up, I'm going to be in love like Mommy and Daddy.
Would
I ever find love after believing in a false reality?
Things
were rough for me from then on. I couldn’t focus in school, I was angry and
crying all the time, I lost motivation. And I didn’t even have my brother to
lean on. I had to deal with going from house to house. I also somehow had to
accept my mom's boyfriend and his difficult children. The boy was nine. The
girl was thirteen. I was in for a rough ride.
After
dealing with sadness, confusion, and growing resentment for a little over a
year, was excited to celebrate at my 17th birthday party! The whole night was
going great, aside from my mom getting drunk and being all over boyfriend,
kissing him, touching him, dancing with him. I was around all of my friends,
laughing, having a great time. Then my dad shows up. "Someone came by to
say happy birthday!" And there was this woman, standing by my dad's side,
in front of me and all my friends. "Happy Birthday Jessica!!" It took
me a second to recognize this blond, obnoxious, loud woman. Then it hit me. Our
old neighbor, who lived on our street, with her now ex-husband and two equally
annoying daughters, as I was growing up. What an awful moment for my dad to
tell me that he is seeing someone. Good choice, Dad. All the way up to the end
of the night, I had to be in the same room with my mom, who was kissing her
boyfriend, and my dad kissing his girlfriend, in the house that I'd lived in
for 13 years.
Adjusting
Thanksgiving, Christmas, and everyday life - for lack of a better word -
sucked! I did not like the changes. I did not like the people. My parents… they
weren’t the same either. They told me that throughout their whole marriage,
they both felt stuck, they didn’t feel like themselves, they never felt happy.
I did not have a good example of what being in love was like. If what they are
showing me with their significant others is the real them, I don’t know if I
like the real them, and I don’t really know them.
Being
a child of divorce, I don’t think it ever stops hurting. At age 19, I still
don’t get it. I still don’t like it. I still don’t accept it.
I'm
sad.
I'm
confused.
I'm
resentful.
And
that constant boiling in my chest, will probably never stop…
