I’m not exactly sure how to start this or what to say. I am trying to strengthen my relationship with my fiance and I have come to realize that I need to get over things that happened in my past. About a month ago he said something to me and it has been all I’ve thought about. He told me I do not consider him at all. That he feels as if I put everyone else including strangers before him.
I was up late one night thinking, these words replaying in my mind. I started thinking why would I treat the one person (other than my kids) I care about the most this way? I started to think about other times we had problems the way I had handled things, the way I had treated him. I began to see that he was right. I hate to admit it I really do, but it’s true. I thought, and I thought what could possibly cause me to treat another person let alone a person a claim to care so much about in this manner.
All of a sudden my mind started drifting to my dad, the life I had because of the choices he made and the way he lived his life. Thinking of this made me think of my brother-in law, my sister’s husband, I thought about the things I wish I had done differently, how badly I wish I had lied, how I wished someone cared enough about me to make what I said matter.
My dad wasn’t necessarily a bad father, he didn’t abuse us, and he would have killed anyone if they ever tried to. However that policy did not extend to my mom. My dad did have a drinking problem and a drug problem. Like most people who have these issues he did whatever he had to in order to support his habit. He stole, he lied, and he cheated on my mom. Things got bad when my mom found him cheating with her supposed best friend. He told her nothing would stand in his way of being with this lady, that if my mom tried he would kill her and no one would ever find her body.
I was about eleven or twelve when I realized my dad was a career thief. I learned long before that he wasn’t a good person. My mom and I were living in a shelter for women and children of domestic violence. It was maybe our second day there, we had gone for a walk to check out the town, get a few things from the grocery store to hold us over. We went into almost every store looked at a few things tried not to show too much interest so that my mom wouldn’t be sad she couldn’t get them for me. It was a few weeks before Thanksgiving which meant Christmas was not too far away. We went to one store it was some sort of magazine and newspaper store they had stuff from all over the world. I had seen a magazine and on the front of the magazine in big letters it said REWARD: and had a picture of this very beautiful mother of pearl handled serving set. I looked at my mom and said “look mom that looks just like the stuff daddy gave me” my mom hushed me and we quickly walked out of the store all of a sudden it hit me. I felt the air leave my lungs and my heart stopped beating.
My dad was a thief! He stole things from people, things people worked hard to get. Things that had probably been in their families for generations. I began to remember different times when he had brought stuff home, and then I realized I knew all along I just chose not to believe it.
My mom and I lived at this shelter for a few more weeks, we finally got our own place it was a very small apartment barely big enough for the two of us, but it was ours. Christmas came we had a small table top tree with no presents but I didn’t care I had my mom and we were safe. One day my aunt gave us a ride we went back to the shelter we had been staying at my mom said it was just to wish the ladies a Merry Christmas but once we got there the lady who ran the place came out with this porcelain doll I had seen and secretly wished for. My mom saved up her money and bought it for me. It was the only present I got that year, and more then I could have ever asked for. I still have that doll and will till the day I die.
We lived there for a little while and things were great until my dad found out where we lived and came over drunk. He came in and talked to my mom and I saw it in her eyes she was going to take him back, again, we looked out the window as he was leaving and he had fallen under his friends truck. He was so drunk he couldn’t get in the truck. The next day I went to stay with my aunt and my mom went to visit family out of state. She came back a week later and we moved there. She had met a man.
His name was Thomas he seemed nice, he drank too but not like my dad. He took care of us for once in my life I didn’t worry about if we were going to have food, heat, water, or even a home. He worked, and a good job at that. A year later he and my mom got married. At that point I swear to the minute of them saying “I do” everything changed. He became controlling, mentally, and emotionally abusive. Fast-forward another year my mom left him. She actually left him. We packed up our car yet again leaving behind all my friends, everything I owned and we left.
We went back to Michigan and once again for I’m not sure the number of times we were homeless. My uncle happened to be dating this very nice lady. She let us stay at her house. It was summer so we actually pitched a tent in her yard. She had a big piece of land in the country. It was so nice knowing my mom was safe, to hear her laugh and have a good time.
This guy, a friend of the nice ladies, came over a few times. It turned into a lot of times. He was nice a little dorky but nice. Fast-forward another I don’t know fifteen years and we are here. I call him my step-dad he’s not legally, but in my heart he is. My mom is still married to Thomas, she has never told Robert (that guy I call my step-dad) that she loves him not even once. He tells her all the time that he loves her. I lost count of how many times he’s asked her to marry him. She just keeps saying “I can’t I’m already married”
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