The Adult Child of Divorce

I had a dream the other day and it brought me to realize that I could maybe use an outlet to allow myself to share, vent, recall, and maybe a little healing too!  I'm finding that being an adult and "growing up" does not make you forget and actually move on from the past.  Here's a little about my upbringing.....I grew up in a nice home in the suburbs of Philly.  I am the baby of 3 (actually 4 but I'll get to that later).  I was the baby.....the adorable child everyone doted over.....the brat!!  I loved everything about my home, my family, my life.  I felt safe and happy when everyone was together.  (I am still like this to this day!!)  One thing I've learned, if it sounds too good to be true, it usually is!  I never realized how things really were until I got older and saw how things are "supposed" to be.  My world around me crumbled, crashed, and burned when I had just turned 11.  I was about to into 6th grade, middle school.  It was the year our school district went on strike!  I remember the night like yesterday.  Sadly it is one of my few childhood memories that I can remember in detail.  Mom and Dad had another fight....a bad one.  Dad threw a few things in a bag, grabbed the t.v. out of his and Mom's room and took off.  I stood by the front door and cried.  It was one of the hardest hits from reality I had ever had.  My life had changed from that moment on.  Yet with every change I seemed to just adjust to "the new normal" It wasn't until I became an adult until I realized, "hey guess what, that wasn't ok!!  I'm allowed to be mad!!  Dammit you disappointed me!"  These were a series of phrases that were all too familiar to me during my upbringing and yes, in my adult life as well.  Both of my parents had become very self involved.  It was no longer about the kids.  Dad moved on and came in and out of my life and mom stopped drinking but entered into a depression so deep that she stayed in the fetal position for nearly 3 years.  Quite often I got up alone, I left the house alone, I came home and ate dinner alone, and other than visiting my brother and sister and their families (they are a little older and had moved out and gotten married prior to Dad's departure) I didn't do a whole lot.  Sure I had friends, but very few that I would invite over.  The few I did were the few that understood.  I was thankful for them.  It's interesting looking back and realizing that those few people that understood we there for a purpose.  I guess that's one of the biggest gifts in life that I think we often time take for granted.....friends, family, even acquaintances.  So now as I sit in my living room, my own little family in bed sleeping I am feeling blessed.  I am so proud of the person I have become, the mother I am, and the father I chose for my children.  I am not trying to say that my parents weren't good.  They had their moments.  It's now as an adult that I realize that they had to separate.  They would have never made it together.  I just wish they would've handled it differently.  Put us kids first a little more often.  I look forward to sharing some of my experiences in hopes that by reading this someone may relate, or maybe grow to understand.  Adult children of divorced parents don't ever get over their parents parting.  But what I am learning is that it's ok to feel that way.  A good friend once told me, "It's ok to look back on the past......just don't stare".