As a kid I often remember sitting on the cold, hard tile, bawling my eyes out while screaming and fighting erupted from the bedroom nearby. I always thought to myself, ‘Why do they do this? What could it be over this time? Am I going to be ok?’ As a kid my parents were always my heroes, and I thought nothing less of them than the best. After months of my always being so confused and scared to death of them fighting, I came to realization that their marriage was not working.
When I was younger, I was a mommy’s girl; I really was never close with my dad. I really didn’t even know him. One day my mom yelled my name to come down downstairs; she needed to talk to me about something. The tone of her voice made crazy thoughts go through my head: ‘Did someone die?’ or ‘Am I in trouble?’ I went downstairs and sat on the couch next to her and she said, “Me and your dad are getting a divorce.” My eight-year-old mind was so confused; I barely even knew what that meant. She said, “Me and your daddy are not going to live together anymore. We need to go our separate ways.” My third grade mind thought, ‘What does this mean? What’s going to happen to me?’ As I sat there and thoughts rushed through my head, tears started to fall, and I begin to cry hysterically. My mom reassured me that everything would be okay, and it’s just for the better, but mind still had not taken it all in.

The next couple days were chaotic around the house. I didn’t even want to come home from school because I knew when I went home that feeling of sickness would come to me again. I eventually learned how to deal with everything as time passed. Court dates were eventually set, and everything was finally settling down to go through with the divorce. My dad received full custody of me, and I was not happy about this because I always thought my mommy was the best out there and what she did was right. For about a year I hated my dad, I always complained when I had to go to his house during the week and every other weekend until one day reality had set into me.
The more and more time I spent with my mom, I realized the situations she put me in were not right, and the judge didn’t give her full custody for a reason. I was sick of being treated unfairly and going over to her house on a Saturday morning and there being unrecognizable people all over her house, sleeping from the night before. Some days she didn’t even know I was home because she just left the door unlocked, so I could get in. I went home and talked to my dad about the situations, and he always said it’s up to me and it’s my decision on what I want to do. I replied back, “Dad, I can’t, she will hate me, and everyone will think I’m a horrible person for not seeing my mom anymore.” I had always had those fears of hurting her or her hating me and yelling at me for my decision that I made. Dad sat back on the worn out spot on the couch and said, “Chris, I love you, and you know what is best. Only you can make this decision. Whatever you do I will be here to stand by your side.”
One weekend I went over there and one of her boyfriend’s touched me inappropriately, and she did not do anything about it. In a panic with tears, shaking uncontrollably, I pick up the phone and ran to my bedroom and dialed the numbers with my unstable fingers, called my dad and told him to come pick me up. “Dad, can you please come get me from my mom’s. I can’t be here with him anymore. I need to leave.” My dad was so confused but simply just said, “Chris, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in five to ten minutes. I love you.” My dad arrived after a few minutes, and I left her apartment without her saying anything to me. I realized she’s not a good mom and that was not okay.

I made the choice to stop seeing my mom and to live with my dad. This decision was probably one of the hardest choices I have had to make in my life. I sat nervously at the kitchen table with my dad as he dialed the number with no care. I knew if I was the one to call my mom she would give me grief and yell at me. She picked up the phone, and my stomach turned into knots as I sat there and listened. My dad said, “Jamie, Christine will not be seeing you anymore as of right now.” My mom did not like that idea and started to yell and chant, which is when I left the table.
I received much grief from people who did not understand or know the situation. I started to second-guess my choice to stop seeing my mom because I was starting to feel bad, but I knew it was the right choice. In this time, I started getting real close with my dad and Nicole, my step mom, because we would have late night talks about my choice and how it is for the better. Through the years, my dad and I have shared a bond that I have never had with anyone before. I can go to my dad and talk to him about anything from school to boys. He is always the one who is there for me when I need it most no matter how badly I hurt him or how badly I mess up. My dad has kept me out of so much trouble through the years when I wanted to do something, which he knew wasn’t a good idea, even though I threw a fit about it and was very mad at him for it. Not only has he helped me stay out of trouble but also my dad has become my best friend. He’s the best I could ever ask for. I have realized sometimes I have to go through the bad to get to the good.