Since I could remember my parents weren’t in love. I grew up thinking it was more normal to have two homes not just one. For a long time I was ok with that because it was all I knew. I do not remember ever having one joined Christmas or Thanksgiving. Having double of everything almost seemed exciting to me growing up. That was until I was finally old enough to hear what two of everything meant. My parents got divorced sometime while I was in Elementary school so for a good few years I was able to shy away from the bad that came with divorce. However, when you are a kid of divorce the court system makes you take classes where they explain to you what exactly is happening. I think that was the first time divorce meant more than “double of”. That day my brother and I sat in a classroom where the teacher played a cartoon show about a split family. I did not learn much from that silly cartoon all I remember was the Capri sun juice pouches they handed out the moment she hit play.
That same day I saw my teacher speaking with my mom who was filled with anger because my dad did not make it in time for the meeting. He was not a bad dad. He just has always had to work really hard for us. To this day that is something my mom never stops reminding my brother and I. She constantly tells us that he is the best father she could have asked for for her children. It was that moment though it really sank in for me that my parents were never going to be the ones I saw on movies. They were never going to smile at one another and whisper “I love you” or sit at the same table to share a meal. Having double of everything lost its appeal.
All kids who have had two homes can understand how frustrating the back and fourth schedules could be. Personally that had to be the hardest part to get used to growing up. My mom had us for more days when we were younger so it would be on Wednesdays and every other weekend that my dad would see us. As we got older, up until my brother and I could drive, it was then Tuesday and Thursdays and every other weekend. If you are already confused by that don’t worry… so were we. I could not tell you the amount of times I left a book at the wrong parents house for that night and did not get my homework done. For my brother he could never seem to pack his right baseball uniforms. My mom and dad would always have to rush his socks or shoes to him just seconds before he had to get on the baseball field.
Year later…when I graduated high school I could not be more excited to move out. To leave my homes and go off to college where I could make one room just for myself. Funny thing was though when the time came I ended up staying home for a year because I did not feel ready. That year was the same back and fourth between homes. I thought since I was older one parent would begin to understand that the constant traveling was difficult, but they didn’t. If I chose one home over the other it meant choosing that parent over the other in their eyes. For some reason they associated where I had my belongings as where I had more of my love. It is nice to have two parents who equally love me too much, but at times it was overwhelming for my brother and I. We became quite good at being mediators over the years though.
I finally made the big move my sophomore year. Took me a year longer then expected, but hey I thought “better late than never”. I only applied to one school when I thought to transfer and just like that I anxiously waited for my acceptance letter from University of Central Florida. When I got it I just so happened to be sitting with my dad and my now stepmom. I thought that when the time would come where I would have to break the news to my dad about leaving I would handle it delicately, but of course I did not. Instead I shouted with excitement “YES IM LEAVING”. Of course that is not the type of thing a father wants to hear from his young daughter. No father wants to send their daughter away to the land of chaos and boys. Boys being the number one concern! After that moment I was basically doomed when it came to talking to my dad about leaving, but then again there really was no good way to break a fathers heart. I tried the “Its time for me to grow up” or the “The program is better for what I want to do”… yeah all he is hearing is that I want to get away from him and discover all the crazy college experiences. Social media depicts college partying after all way more than it advertises the students actually worrying about their future. Making that big move changed everything about how I saw my parents.
For a really long time I held this anger inside because the way I viewed relationships was cynical. I thought if two people could have children together and get married then why would they ever separate. When I moved away though I began to see just how overwhelming life could be. Not to mention how much a person can change even within a year. Friends I used to be inspirable from now I do not even speak to anymore and the boy I “loved” became a stranger. Separation was ok. It took me a long time to accept that idea. Actually 21 years to be exact. I also now know that I am in fact not doomed to end up divorced. Yes, I did think for majority of my life that divorce was hereditary basically and if I ever said “I do” it would end.
Needless to say I finally have that one room with all my belongings in it. Funny enough though I think about home every day… imperfections and all. What I ended up having double of turned out to be love and family. It may not be the simple family under one roof, but who doesn’t love a little chaos if it means that many more people to love and support you.