So it’s day 4 of my 30-day blogging challenge and I am supposed to write about my parents.
I have a little confession to make because honestly, this is one of the hardest posts I have ever had to write (I guess that’s why they call it a challenge). In some ways it was even harder than writing about Mr. BST. And that’s probably why it’s taken me so long to actually publish this post.
I guess I just didn’t know how honest I wanted to be. Sometimes, when you put your whole self out there for all the world to see it’s pretty scary. While some posts have been extremely challenging, most of my posts about dating have been kind of fun. It’s the only subject that makes you want to laugh, cry, and scream all at the same time.
But, well, my family, that’s different.
I’ve talked about my mom before. And honestly, I could write a whole book about how amazing my mom is. I mean seriously, when I wanted to move to NYC the woman volunteered to drive me here knowing she would have to drive all the way back all by herself. And she was incredibly supportive even though I know she didn’t want me to move so far away.
That’s the way she’s always been. She’s always wanted me to achieve everything and anything I’ve ever wanted. And more than anything she’s always believed I could. She’s pushed me when I thought I couldn’t be pushed and picked me up when I have been lower than low.
And I am not sure if I will ever be able to thank her enough.
Then there is my dad and this is where the hard part comes. I thought about not mentioning him in this post. But I feel like that kind of creates this idea that I don’t have a dad or that maybe I have never had a dad. And like my thoughts on Mr. BST, that just wouldn’t feel right to me.
But then if I kind of feel like if I don’t explain things then it makes it seem like something happened that didn’t. I mean, nothing tragic happened or anything. At the same time, I am just ready to write about it. I actually don’t think I could write about it because I wouldn’t know where to start. Maybe someday I will feel differently.
What I will tell you is that my dad was around for all my childhood and a good portion of my adult life. I mean, my parents were married until my mid-twenties.
We used to do things as a family. We went on vacations together and had holidays together. He saw me do many things -- like ride a bike, drive a car, graduate high school and college. I still know where he lives and he knows where I am (I think).
But, my dad and I don’t really see eye to eye. And somewhere, somehow we stopped knowing how to talk to each other. We stopped talking. And that’s really the core of the hard part -- I am not entirely sure how or why it happened.
I know it could be far worse. And as weird as it might sound, I think going through everything with my dad helped me to learn a lot about life. It helped me to learn a lot about myself. More than anything it helped me appreciate the things that I have in life and stop sweating the things that I don’t.