My parents. Always a touchy subject. I don’t speak of them often, and there’s a reason.
I’ve written about my dad on several occasions. You can find them anywhere on this blog. The relationship between him and I was never good. From the day I was born. Perhaps he was disappointed I ended up being a girl. Maybe it’s because I remind him so much of my mom. Maybe it’s because I’m so much like him. Whatever the reason, from the day I was born, the relationship between my father and me, has sucked. At best. We do not speak. I have him blocked from all aspects of my life. I get annoyed when Sis talks to him about me, because I don’t want him knowing anything about my life. He is not part of it, and that’s how I like it.
The relationship I have with my mother, is different. It’s much better than the one with my dad, but not one that I would boast about. I don’t share secrets with her. She doesn’t know who I’m dating, and didn’t even know I moved until a week AFTER we were already settled in. Her life choices have caused me to keep my distance, and unfortunately, that leaves me with no parents to share my life with. This is my choice as an adult.
I’ve had to learn that life does go on without parents. It’s not a bad thing that my abusive father isn’t around. It’s not a bad thing that my mom lives her own
strange life. It’s just different. And it’s the way it is.