I stood in the doorway screaming “Daddy, No! Don’t leave!” I could barely see through the tears in my eyes. That was the first night my father was not sleeping around the corner from me. Though I hoped with all my might that he would return, he never did. Now he lives with his fiancé across town. The arguing started when I was going into the sixth grade. I would stand at the top of the stairs listening to the loud voices, vulgar words, and an occasional crashing of a glass against a wall. I was young at the time and didn’t understand most of what was happening, but later I realized that man had been tearing apart my family.
My growing up was kicked into high gear the night he left. As an almost eighth grader I was dealing with a divorce on top of the many other middle school challenges. I felt like I had to take care of everything, especially my sister, Mallory, who was only in third grade at the time. My mom was incredible at this time. She helped us both cope with this traumatic time, as well as dealing with it herself. Although Mallory was against many of my mothers attempts to help, my mom tried to provide an unbiased platform for us to talk about either of our parents.
Because we only had one parent in the house now, I needed to step up and be the “dad”. I had to make sure Mallory was keeping her grades up and making the right choices. I felt I needed to do this because there was no father figure in the house anymore, and didn’t want my mom to do everything on her own. I could have most definitely been considered bossy at this point, but I felt it was necessary to keeping family going.
Since I grew up fast, I have come a long way since everything started. Though I do not agrees with them, I have accepted my Dad’s decisions and know that in the long run they were for the best. Our relationship was torn up like paper that