My Family

My parents were married for over seventeen years they were perfect: perfect parents, perfect relationship, and a perfect family. But I soon realized things aren’t always what they may seem on the outside. Our family moved from Chicago, Illinois, over 15 years ago; Fresh new start as they called it, who knew it would have turned out this way. Growing up I never paid much attention to what was going on nor saw how I was being shaped by it, but I come to think is this why I’m this way? My parents were annoyingly in love it was scary. They never stayed away from each other, and enjoyed their presence. Many viewed them as the “lucky ones” being together so long, sticking with one another in their journey to the United States. I wasn’t born yet, but I was always told stories. My father

They grew unhappy, full of dislike with each other; it was happening right in front of us and we never realized it. There was a time where I didn’t think this could happen. I idealized my parents, I was young, but I know happiness when I see happiness and what my parents had was just that. I didn’t believe in divorce, my brothers and I were raised as Catholics. Marriage is a big thing in our religion, and divorce is no way to solve a problem, but my parents thought otherwise. My mother filed for divorce which led to my parents to making an agreement. Each week they would take turns with us. It was tough having to move house to house every week, but that was the only way it would work. My brothers hated it, they were much older than I was, and refused to move every week, because everything that we needed was at our permanent house. I disliked the adjustments they had made, I disliked that my mother filed for divorce and I absolutely disliked how separated we all were. I began to blame my mother, because filing was her decision. I thought she was selfish, and they didn’t try hard enough to stay together nor work things