“I need to talk to you” my mother said.
“Why? Am I in trouble?” I replied.
“No”, my mother answered with tears in her eyes, “there’s something you need to know about your dad.”
It was cold. Another ordinary evening after school, at least that’s what I thought. I was 9 years old at the time. I came home prepared to go over homework with my mom and siblings. We would probably have one of my mother’s healthy dinners. Instead, I was greeted with Cherry Cheesecake, and my siblings were nowhere to be found. My mother and I sat on her bedroom floor. She popped open the Cheese Cake container and began to cry.
“I never knew when this time would come” she said peering up from the white box. I looked at her puzzled… she continued.
“Vance is not your biological father”
I looked at her stunned. I wasn’t stunned at this news as I always felt different from my siblings. Not to mention the slurs Vance would throw at me when he was upset with my mother. He’d ask me “where’s my first daughter?” referring to my younger sister. I was stunned my mother mustered up enough courage to confront me. My mother was and still is very private. She is quiet, gets embarrassed easily, and is afraid of confrontation. Being a victim of domestic violence made her unavailable most of the time. Vance frequently beat her down with his words and fist. The abuse made me think of my …show more content…
My mother went on to tell me their love story and how she couldn’t handle his lifestyle. She told me how Vance came along and promised a better life for us. I can remember drifting off at this point. I remember thinking, what did my real dad look like? Was he safe? Did I ever walk by him? I felt warmth in my heart thinking of this mystery man. How could I feel so deeply for a man I didn’t remember? My mother told me she would find him, but we had to keep it a secret as Vance was still in the
“Why? Am I in trouble?” I replied.
“No”, my mother answered with tears in her eyes, “there’s something you need to know about your dad.”
It was cold. Another ordinary evening after school, at least that’s what I thought. I was 9 years old at the time. I came home prepared to go over homework with my mom and siblings. We would probably have one of my mother’s healthy dinners. Instead, I was greeted with Cherry Cheesecake, and my siblings were nowhere to be found. My mother and I sat on her bedroom floor. She popped open the Cheese Cake container and began to cry.
“I never knew when this time would come” she said peering up from the white box. I looked at her puzzled… she continued.
“Vance is not your biological father”
I looked at her stunned. I wasn’t stunned at this news as I always felt different from my siblings. Not to mention the slurs Vance would throw at me when he was upset with my mother. He’d ask me “where’s my first daughter?” referring to my younger sister. I was stunned my mother mustered up enough courage to confront me. My mother was and still is very private. She is quiet, gets embarrassed easily, and is afraid of confrontation. Being a victim of domestic violence made her unavailable most of the time. Vance frequently beat her down with his words and fist. The abuse made me think of my …show more content…
My mother went on to tell me their love story and how she couldn’t handle his lifestyle. She told me how Vance came along and promised a better life for us. I can remember drifting off at this point. I remember thinking, what did my real dad look like? Was he safe? Did I ever walk by him? I felt warmth in my heart thinking of this mystery man. How could I feel so deeply for a man I didn’t remember? My mother told me she would find him, but we had to keep it a secret as Vance was still in the