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Family conflict introduction
Family conflict introduction
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It’s been four years since my father left us. He disappeared off the face of the earth without warning, leaving my mother and me to fend for ourselves. Now, to be completely honest here, I never really developed much of a bond with him anyways, so the separation between us has had only a microscopic impact on my life. Even so, there are things that I wish I could know about him; after all, he is still my father. Unfortunately, my mother disagrees; she always disagrees.
She makes a point that knowing about my father’s life would not benefit me as a teenager, but I never said it would. I simply believe that it is my right to know the one who’s responsible for my flaws. I have hypothesized that my father is to blame for my inconformity to rules and terrible memory. I mean, he left us when I was eight and I can only remember his name; the name of whom has been prohibited in this household. Even in knowing his name, it doesn’t do me any good. He didn’t have many friends in Portland, Oregon, and there seems to be no record of him anywhere; I’ve checked.
I suppose that the reason why my mom refuses to talk about my dad is that she is afraid that I will run off on a crazy adventure to find him. Maybe she figures that if she hides it from me, I will forget and lose the desire to know. But, my poor mother, I cannot just give up on something as important as this. It means too much to me to quit.
Another flaw.
I have the stubbornness of a bull and am as selfish as a cat.
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It seems that the fights between my mom and I have become almost a daily occurrence, though, I usually do most of the arguing. My mother is one of the quietest and calmest people I have ever met. She manages to never raise her voice, even if she is fur...
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... I can’t help but blame my dad for the way I’ve acted since he left. I feel like I am trying to fill his place; act the way he would if he were here.
I think, maybe, I’m starting to realize that I can never fill his place, and maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t think he would want me trying to be someone I am not. If I were to fill his place, that would mean that I have to be a rule-breaker all the time. I don’t think I could do that. Honestly, I am tired of being a rule-breaker. Sometimes I want to do as I’m told and stop putting on a show. I’m tired of being something I am not.
And at that moment, without another thought, I grabbed the maroon shoes and hurled them into the lake. The shoelaces waved wildly in the air, grabbing at the wind to save them. Then, the little waves engulfed the shoes and pulled them under, inch-by-inch. Soon they were gone; only a memory.
I never knew my father. I knew of him course, but whenever I asked my mom about it, the story was condensed to something along the lines of
I do not have any memories of my own father as a child. I met him when I was about fourteen years old. My mother and grandmother, with the help of my uncles and aunt, raised me. Although I had strong positive male role models in my life, there was always the void of my father that I dealt with on a daily basis. I can remember at a young age, before blowing out the candles on my birthday cake, I would wish that my father would show up to my party. I had elaborate daydreams of him coming back into my life and doing things with me like I saw on television. It never happened. While walking to the train station one evening my uncle casually said to me “there’s your father” as if I saw him on an everyday basis. I didn’t...
Although I did not believe her, I'm a teenager, why should I care about my dad? So I went to bed. I got a D minus on the algebra test. I was at my Hamlet, sulking, and pondering what a Hamlet was, and I heard Bernardo talking to himself, I listened. They stole my Dad, Claudius paid them to do it, Adele and Beyonce made a girl power album! I now know, Bernardo had weird taste in music & Claudius took my father! I was outraged! the day afterward, I told my mother and she asked if I was feeling SICK! Really women?! I’m a grown teenager have some respect. I’m already super mature, hey have you seen my fake snot
When I was a child growing up, my biological father taught me a lesson I will never forget. He had a lovely girlfriend. Let’s call her Olive. Olive and my father were together for years, living happily and enjoying each other’s company. However, once I become older I was introduced to my father’s second girlfriend, let’s call her Jenny. Jenny, Olive and my father lived to together in the same house, just the three of them. Subsequently, the relationship did not last. I did not discover the truth until years later. Olive wanted a monogamous relationship with my father but my father did not feel the same way. The result of Olive’s heartbreak lead to the destruction of their strange but seemly happy relationship. The trio split and would go one
Now that I am in the counseling program I have become aware of the dysfunctional family that I have grew up in. Growing up I remember my father was never around. There is a memory I will never forget it seems blurry but I remember my parents arguing and becoming angry. I went into a room and when I came out I saw my father’s hand bleeding. My mother was holding a kitchen knife and she had cut his hand. Since my father was hardly around we never had family trips or family time together. He would spend his weekends drinking or going out with his friends. I have another memory that stands out. I remember I was in the back seat of the car and my mom was dropping of my dad somewhere. They were arguing the whole way over there, once we got to the destination my dad got off and walked out. I can imagine this affected my mother as a woman because her needs were not being
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The more I think of all the years I've dealt with this shit, the more morose I become. It just wasn't fair! I've tried so hard to do everything right, just to please my dad. Just so I wouldn't have to worry about him sneaking into my room at night and...and...
It started when I was a little girl, I think I was about five years old. I grew up in a one parent household, with just my mom. I had three other siblings, two brothers and a sister. My mom was the sole provider of the family. Everything started getting hard for her as we grew. I got curious and asked my mom a question I never asked before. "Mom where is my dad and why isn 't he here to help you take care of us." " Mom said, he was killed when you were a baby." So I never spoke of it again until I had turned about fifteen years of age. I still was curious about what had happened to my father. I started having dreams of my father being around, a man whom i had never seen or meet before. He was just an illusion that I had made up inside my
Whenever I think about my mom, my dad also comes to my mind as well. Being raised by both parents showed me how much my parents worked as a team. Yes, there were times I felt closer to my mom than my dad dealing with some issues but I think it’s because I am a girl. What girl wants to talk to her dad about girly issues? My mom was my world, but my dad was my super hero. He showed me how a lady should be treated by a man, and taught me how to wrestle, climb trees, and treat others kindly. Since my parents were together there were two incomes to provide for my sister and me. I never saw my mom feeling lonely or my dad stress from his job. Even though my dad worked full time, it did not seem to affect my relationship with him because my mom was there when he was not. I believe if my mom did not have my dad she would not be able to support my sister and I alone or even should us she really cared. It takes both parents to teach their kids the traits of life. Say a single mom was having money issues when paying for her kids to eat lunch at school, if the child finds out their mom is struggling to come ...
After half an hour of waiting for someone to call and my sister and dad to come home also thinking about what to do. I gave up and went to take a shower. When I came out, my bed was made and my mom called me down for breakfast, which I didn’t feel like having. I just drank a glass of orange juice. My mother went to the porch to sit. After a few seconds I decided to join her. Since I had nothing better to do at that moment, I asked her where my sister and dad had gone. All she said was “I don’t know”. I gu...
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