Both of my parents were in the navy, that’s how they met and where they fell in love. They got married in 1994 and soon had two girls, my sister Breana and I. Growing up I always thought I had the “perfect” family, we went to church every Sunday, had family dinners every night, a happy family that cared for each other, we always spent time together, went on family vacations, and my Mom and Dad didn’t fight. Or so I thought anyway…
At the age of seven I started to notice a change in my family. My dad stopped coming to church with the family, came home later and later each night, and eventually started fighting with my mom all the time. One day after school my sister and I got off the bus like a normal day, when we realized something was wrong. My mom was waiting for both my sister and I at the bus stop when she normally just waited for us at home. When we approached my mom we noticed that she had been crying, she had red puffy eyes and wasn’t smiling like she usually was. When I asked her what was wrong she simply said, “We will talk about it when we get home.” At that moment my stomach dropped, I knew something was really wrong.
Divorce; the word makes many children shudder when they are young, and many children know the meaning all too well. I, unfortunately, am no exception. Right after my parent’s separation, "Who would I go with?” and “What would I say?" were the only thoughts in my mind while drifted to sleep every night. After my parents got divorced my life was dramatically changed; I now went back and forth from mom’s house to dads, things that were so easy now became hard, I had three step sisters who picked on me all the time, I started to hate my dad’s house, and worst of all I started fighting with my dad all the time. All these things eventually lead up to me leaving my dad’s house to live with my mom; this meant no more going back and forth, things suddenly got a little easier, my step sisters didn’t pick on me anymore, and best of all I stopped fighting with my dad. But I didn’t just stop fighting with him, I completely stopped talking to him. I thought moving out would make things easier, but I was wrong. I missed my dad so much, but for some reason I couldn’t bare myself to talk to him.
One thing lead to the next and I ended up leaving Albuquerque, New Mexico with my mom to live in Gastonia, North Carolina with my grandma temporarily. I was really happy at first to get to leave and get a fresh start, but very soon after I left I began to miss home. After waiting until my sophomore year was over I decided to come visit my family. My dad and I had worked things out after I called him one day, and when I asked him if I could come visit he didn’t deny. So on June 7th, I got on a plane to go visit. I didn’t realize how much more I missed my family until I arrived back in New Mexico and got to spend time with them. I spent a lot of time with my dad and told him how much I missed him, I also told him how much I hated North Carolina and after a long talk, we both decided I would be able to move back to New Mexico. I was so happy that I would be able to move back until it hit me. I would be leaving my mom back in North Carolina, the person I loved so much who was not only my mom, but my best friend. The one who was there for me when I needed to cry, the one who took care of me when I was sick, and the one who was goofy and made me laugh even when I didn’t want to. Every day I miss her more and more and it’s a struggle not being able to see her.
Through all this though, I have learned so much. I may miss my mom every day, but there are people who don’t even have one parent, and I am fortunate to have three who love me and care about me. I think my experience has also changed the way I see and treat other people. I also realized that no family is “perfect”. The ones that look the most normal are probably the ones with the most problems. My parents’ divorce caused many hardships and pain in my life, but it’s an experience that I would not ever ask to change, because I makes me who I am.
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