I’m a girl from a broken home. Growing up hasn’t been the easiest. In some broken homes the parents still keep in touch for the sake of their kids, but not mine. My home was broken to the core. Mom disliked and still dislikes the guts of my dad. My dad, like most men, moved on and got married. For the time my parents were together, I never experienced anything short of love. The values of family and togetherness were sewn into my heart. Evening strolls, eating at the dining table, praying together… I mean, we did all that. My brother and I always knew what love was.
Then, the rest happened, my mom ripped me from my dad, it was pure torture. I was “daddy’s pet” and he was my super dad. You know how girls can be with their dads. Growing up, my mom “poisoned” my mind. She was hurt from experiences; not that I blame her. I started growing up with a heart of ice for my father, without understanding his side of the story. I said the most terrible of things to him and about him; wrote him the most horrible letters inked in red. I was acting up based on all the painful memories my mom talked about. Basically I was her alter ego
Thankfully, I grew up, my mind opened up and luckily, I still had that love I experienced taking strolls on the beaches of Tema. I know I opened up because I forgave my father for things he never even did to me. I visited him more and begun to tap some knowledge from him. My father is not much of a talker, he never talked about the happenings which led to the breaking up of our family. Now, I’m older and I ask a lot of questions. Questions that forced my father to open up about things. Somehow, I came to understand both sides of the story or at least I tried. If only my mom was a bit more patient, I’d have grown up still with a beautiful family.
Surprisingly, I’m no more the bitter and angry little girl. Forgiveness wasn’t a value taught by my mom, I learnt it all by myself and I am glad I did. Sometimes it’s hard; I’m still trying to forgive a friend who broke a portion of my heart but I believe I have come a long way. Moral of this narrative? We are brought up a certain way but once we realize that way makes it hard to live, there’s always room to improve, room for change, room to edit. It’s just a matter of allowing ourselves. Stop blaming your parents for how you turned out. They brought you up that way because of their perspective of life, if you feel the need to change it, do so. Apportioning blame doesn’t make you a better person, they have done theirs. Now, you claim you are old enough, try doing it your way. It’s not easy bringing up another person, so appreciate the little they do. Take what you find good in that upbringing and make conscious effort to format what you dislike.
I love who I am now, I’m a bit too rough sometimes, I show too much love sometimes, I tend to get hurt deeply because I love deeply but I love that I was able to come out as a combination of my mom, my dad and most importantly, my perfect and imperfect self.
Written by: Aries