Some people may know, some might not. Most don't though and it's not like I go around advertising it like a sandwich board.
The thing is, other than my family name, I'd rather not want to have anything in common with my paternal side of the family. It's complicated; or rather it's simple, depending one how you look at it.
Before the divorce, when my father was around the only thing he was good at was making life miserable. I can barely remember much from my childhood (at least when good ol' Daddy was around) other than the yelling, screaming, and fighting. But when he finally left the family, it was a relief but tough at the same time. Even with him being away and not living under the same roof, he still found ways to make life a living hell usually in the form of mental and emotional abuse.
My mother is only a high school grad with minimal working experience, so after the divorce she worked as a low paying kindergarten teacher. By then she was officially a single mother with a young 7-year old daughter and a troubled 14-year old son. Whatever alimony money my father gave was helpful to the household especially with school and other misc. stuff. Unfortunately, my father knew that all too well and used to threatened us about not giving anymore money or would yell at us to go get money from our church. Because by then, my mother, brother and I converted to Christianity and went to church regularly meaning any visitation to my father on Sundays were cut off by half a day. I didn't care much about going to my father's and rather not.
By the time I hit my teenage years, things were still pretty much the same and I was struggling wth my own inner demons (boy, is that another sap story) and I really didn't need anymore drama in my life. But my father was great at supplying stuff like that and it didn't make life easier. Though that's all he was good for: pressurising, demanding and more demanding. He didn't care what was going on in my life or how my grades were doing (except when I lost to my cousin at earning those As meaning my grandmother would compare us), who my friends were, and all that.
When I started pre-university classes, things in my life were beginning to balance out and I was actually having fun for the first time. The opposite for my father though; he was once a high paying business guy but got retrenched and things weren't that hot anymore, and slowly he became this middle aged man fearing that he was going to live his old ages without his children. The fact that he was still as arrogant and pompous didn't help his situation.
Here's the scenario: my brother's working and is happy with his life, my father's a house-husband caring for my 13-year old step-sister, and my step-mother who's working, while my mother is now a principal of a kindergarten and a wonderfully and amazingly strong independent woman. I'm finally comfortable with my life and knowing that I'm good for something. Now, my father wants to talk to us all the time; have breakfast every weekend; wants to spend quality time; show off his two oldest kids to people; calls and bugs us all the time. To me, he suddenly wants to know where I go, who I hang out with, find out if I'm dating and all that.
It's too late for that.
He lost the right to all those privileges when he walked out that door and became a barely there father. And now he wants back into our lives like he was always there for us especially since now we're fully grown adults and can't be threatened with money anymore.
Why this whole cathartic post?
This morning he took my brother and I for breakfast with my step-mother and step-sister. At the coffee shop, he introduced us as if we were my step-mother's kids and people assumed we were one big happy family. I was pissed as hell.
He had absolutely no right to steal the glory of my mother's hard-work of raising two very troubled kids into succesful adults with lives of their own. My brother maybe forgiving enough but not me. Not when my father made us grow up in fear and replaced I-Love-You-s with You're-fat-and-stupid.
I don't hate him. I just don't care.
Karma's a bitch. And he's finally paying the price.
The thing is, other than my family name, I'd rather not want to have anything in common with my paternal side of the family. It's complicated; or rather it's simple, depending one how you look at it.
Before the divorce, when my father was around the only thing he was good at was making life miserable. I can barely remember much from my childhood (at least when good ol' Daddy was around) other than the yelling, screaming, and fighting. But when he finally left the family, it was a relief but tough at the same time. Even with him being away and not living under the same roof, he still found ways to make life a living hell usually in the form of mental and emotional abuse.
My mother is only a high school grad with minimal working experience, so after the divorce she worked as a low paying kindergarten teacher. By then she was officially a single mother with a young 7-year old daughter and a troubled 14-year old son. Whatever alimony money my father gave was helpful to the household especially with school and other misc. stuff. Unfortunately, my father knew that all too well and used to threatened us about not giving anymore money or would yell at us to go get money from our church. Because by then, my mother, brother and I converted to Christianity and went to church regularly meaning any visitation to my father on Sundays were cut off by half a day. I didn't care much about going to my father's and rather not.
By the time I hit my teenage years, things were still pretty much the same and I was struggling wth my own inner demons (boy, is that another sap story) and I really didn't need anymore drama in my life. But my father was great at supplying stuff like that and it didn't make life easier. Though that's all he was good for: pressurising, demanding and more demanding. He didn't care what was going on in my life or how my grades were doing (except when I lost to my cousin at earning those As meaning my grandmother would compare us), who my friends were, and all that.
When I started pre-university classes, things in my life were beginning to balance out and I was actually having fun for the first time. The opposite for my father though; he was once a high paying business guy but got retrenched and things weren't that hot anymore, and slowly he became this middle aged man fearing that he was going to live his old ages without his children. The fact that he was still as arrogant and pompous didn't help his situation.
Here's the scenario: my brother's working and is happy with his life, my father's a house-husband caring for my 13-year old step-sister, and my step-mother who's working, while my mother is now a principal of a kindergarten and a wonderfully and amazingly strong independent woman. I'm finally comfortable with my life and knowing that I'm good for something. Now, my father wants to talk to us all the time; have breakfast every weekend; wants to spend quality time; show off his two oldest kids to people; calls and bugs us all the time. To me, he suddenly wants to know where I go, who I hang out with, find out if I'm dating and all that.
It's too late for that.
He lost the right to all those privileges when he walked out that door and became a barely there father. And now he wants back into our lives like he was always there for us especially since now we're fully grown adults and can't be threatened with money anymore.
Why this whole cathartic post?
This morning he took my brother and I for breakfast with my step-mother and step-sister. At the coffee shop, he introduced us as if we were my step-mother's kids and people assumed we were one big happy family. I was pissed as hell.
He had absolutely no right to steal the glory of my mother's hard-work of raising two very troubled kids into succesful adults with lives of their own. My brother maybe forgiving enough but not me. Not when my father made us grow up in fear and replaced I-Love-You-s with You're-fat-and-stupid.
I don't hate him. I just don't care.
Karma's a bitch. And he's finally paying the price.
2 comments:
Jo, next time I'll come an visit, I'll be sure to come with some poison. *glares at the man*
He definitely pushed the button way too far by presenting you like your step-mother's kids! *keep shooting daggers at him*
Want me to zap him? *angel*
*hugs you* You are definitely a strong and intelligent woman and you look a lot like your mom so you can be proud!
Hey. At least your dad aint a bisexual mishap walking around in some corner of malaysia and you're not a victim of sympathy by the countless of dotting indian relatives you have.
Being indian makes one helluva difference i tell ya -_-
But you know what, as stupid as your dad has been and as pissing off as that gets - i know how you feel, honestly - ...you know your conscience is bloody damn well clear when you...
be the bigger person.
sometimes, forgiveness just makes a stronger person. of course, forgiveness without stupidity la =P
Take time to be pissed at your dad. It wont last forever tho. -hugs- And altho my dad never was present in my life, walking around with half of his genes in me can get a bit unsettling at times.
Screw reality. We're good people now. Lol.
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