Family Portrait

Families are not perfect. I come from a broken family like many other people that I know. 

I was not even 6 years old when my parents were officially divorced. I don't seem to recall any memories of my parents together when they were married. The memories that I have were being tucked into bed and saying my prayers. I remember praying every night for a brother or sister. I suppose that even at a young age I knew that I didn't want to do life alone. I remember when my mom had a miscarriage. I remember being scared and not understanding what happened. Even now I don't have many answers. It almost seems like it was a bad dream that I once had. I also remember my parents asking me who I wanted to live with. I choose my mom. At that time, I never saw her much. She worked 2nd or 3rd shift and my dad was typically home when I got home from Kindergarten. It was a hard adjustment at first because she didn't do the same things that my dad did.

Looking back at my life, I wonder how I have any idea about family. I always had a picture of what it should like to me. That picture wasn't created in my mind from what I experienced. It was created from something else, maybe an ideal. I don't remember doing too much with my father. When I would have to go on visits, he would fall asleep on the couch while watching TV. I spent a lot of my time just playing by myself. Once a year, he would take me camping/fishing. I can't even say that I felt like my dad ever really knew me or understood me. He would buy me things that I wanted. What I have always just wanted was to have a relationship with him and feel loved. Even at 30 something, it's still what I want. I want to feel included and like I wasn't just an accident that happened when my parents were split up.

My mom wasn't around much either. She began dating shortly after the divorce and eventually married again. That man abused me for several years. He wanted her to work extra hours to pay his attorney fees to try and get custody of his daughter. The price of my mom's sacrifice.. it cost me a lot more. I remember crying and locking myself in the bathroom when she would say she had to leave... leave me alone with him.  I didn't have anyone to protect me. I didn't have any one that I could trust. I carry those scars and it's made me the person that I am.

Even after that relationship ended... I was alone. Mostly on my own. My mom worked hard to support us once again. She began dating... once again.  My high school friends would recall how often I had the apartment to myself. It's really amazing to me that I didn't get into more trouble than I did.

My parents are my parents. Like everyone else, they are not perfect. I am not perfect. I know that I wasn't planned and I just happened to come along. I am thankful for my mom because I know she worked hard to support me the way she could.  I could come and talk to her when I needed to and I know that I can still.

I remember when Peter and I first started dating. He had such a different background then me. I met his parents. I remember seeing the love between them. They were married for so long. They were pretty welcoming (even if his dad said I was 12 years old on my 16th birthday!).  I remember feeling jealous of his family. It seemed like a perfect family portrait. I felt that way for awhile about his family. Then I remember the first time I saw his parents argue. I was like "wow!". 

Peter explained to me that parents could argue and that didn't mean that someone was going to get hurt. It didn't mean the marriage would end. It just meant they were having a disagreement... a little loud.  I couldn't believe it. It took me a bit to understand that some disagreements (even if a little loud) are ok. It's not the end of the world.  My past experiences didn't allow me to think that way before.

Today, I'm still confused about family. My past experiences, my ideals, my dreams collide together like the waves on a bluff. I know that I want something better for my kiddos than what I had. I know that I hope that my broken family could somehow be mended for the sake of my children. I know that they already have broken family in their past and I want this family to be better.

Tonight, I dedicate this blog to all those out there that come from broken families. The ones that understand my pain. I know that you understand how painful it is to look back and remember those "WWIII" moments. A child hopes that things will be better. Sometimes, it doesn't get better for a long time. For those that are in those broken families right now, reach out. Get help before it consumes you.