I know I said I’d be away all week, but I found the WordPress app for my phone and I felt as though I needed to get this off my chest.
All my life, my father has been put on a pedestal. Despite being verbally and, at rare times, physically abusive, he has always been the man who could do no wrong. For a long time, I dealt with conflicting emotions toward this man.
After all, he is my father. And maybe I just don’t get it because I’m so much younger than him. Maybe this is normal.
But, at the same time, I knew it wasn’t. I knew that my father wasn’t supposed to be like that. A father isn’t supposed to make you feel as though you’re less than human at times, that your emotions, no matter how silly, aren’t valid.
But there was always that whole family loyalty thing. And, no matter how much I wanted to hate him to the point where I wouldn’t want to talk to him ever again, I couldn’t. I didn’t know why, only that there surely must have been something wrong with me for being incapable of that level of loathing.
Now I see why.
I am incapable of that level of loathing because I am the family mediator. I am the one who stays rational in a family crisis and keeps things from escalating. And I never really realized it until now. I never thought about it until my parents split up last week and I started being the one to coordinate the moving process. I’ve stopped fights and kept my mom from going back into a mutually abusive relationship.
It never seemed like that much of a talent until now. My planning skills aren’t genius-level, which is something I’ve always lamented, but now, I couldn’t ask for a better ability.
And all because my father gave me the greatest gift he could never have for himself. A clear mind incapable of the rage that so fully consumes him.