I knew from young age that my parent's relationship was not "normal" but I didn't realize how toxic it really was until just within the past couple of years. They argued a lot, my dad drank a lot and now that I truly tried to remember, I never saw them display any form of affection towards one another. Growing up and being around my friend's parents and families, I always wondered why my parents didn't look like that. Why did my dad not buy my mom flowers? Why did they not go on dates? Why did they not cuddle up together, give lingering hugs or affectionate kisses?
Well, I'm guessing that when you know your husband is cheating on you, those types of interactions aren't welcomed or even sought after. I first learned of my dad's extramarital affairs one night when I woke up to hear my parents having a screaming match. Even from a young age I had a curious appetite. I wondered why there was so much screaming going on but instead of going to check on them, I inched my way down from my bunk bed and slithered as quietly as possible to the door where I placed one of my ears to get a clear sound of the exact words being said. Boy I wish that Fred and George's extended ears from Harry Potter were a real thing because my heart raced at the thought of being discovered. I knew, as far as a child can know, that I shouldn't be listening in the conversation but as always, and until this day, my curiosity seems to take precedent.
Now I can't exactly know how they looked like, but I can only imagine my mom standing over him while he is half asleep, half drunk, and demanding to know why he was cheating on her. Who was this person? Did he think she was stupid? The nature on how she found out and the ensuing conversation must have occurred prior to my being awake because all I kept hearing was insistent denial by dad and hysteric outcry by my mom. This conversation went on for what seemed like a long time until I heard "you're going to wake the kids up" followed by footsteps coming straight to my brothers and I's room. With my heart racing, I quickly scurried to the bunk bend, climbed up the ladder faster than a squirrel and plopped on my mattress, just in time to see hear a creak signaling the door being opened. I never did learn who this person was or how my mom found out about the affair but I did learn that my dad wasn't faithful and I learned the word cheating (in regards to a relationship and not a school test) for the first time.
This was the first time I learned and became aware that my dad was flawed and not in like "I forgot to put the dishes away or throw the thrash away" type of flaw, but in a way that alters your perception of a person you thought to be perfect. I also realized that my family wasn't normal. My parents were different than my friend's parents and I knew this wasn't a good type of different. I somehow grasped that having your dad cheat on your mom was not something that anybody would approve of.
Over the years the word become more and more familiar. It became a staple in our everyday language, constantly lurking beneath the surface until an event made it rear it's head out in the middle of the night and the same scenario would play out. Subconsciously I learned to "pretend" it wasn't true because I didn't want to have to hate my dad. I didn't want to have to tell him how much I hated seeing my mom cry at night or have her blood pressure get so hight that she had to almost be hospitalized. I didn't want to have to defend this unconditional love I had for him. So when my mom would bring it up or I would hear them scream, I would cry a little and then move on. Just pretend it wasn't true.
The women changed but not the cheating. Even up until my dad was deported, he was cheating on my mom. He's still cheating on my mom. He even plans to get married to somebody else even if he is still married to my mom.
My unhealthy denial continued up until this year. I still didn't want to face the truth. I still didn't want to face the truth when I had the first honest conversation with him in Mexico about his cheating. I still didn't want to face the truth when I learned that he was in a relationship with this other person and he planned on getting married. I still didn't face the truth when he asked me for my thought.
I wanted to say so much but I still didn't. Instead of taking out all the suppressed anger and frustration after all these years I could only muster up, "I don't want to meet her. I don't want to be around her. I don't care to know her. I think it's really weird but that's all I can say. You hurt mom a lot and she's still hurting so I don't want to have anything to do with this relationship. It would feel like I'm betraying my mom who doesn't deserve this." and that was it. We didn't talk about it again.
Seeing my mom still in so much pain from his actions makes me feel like a horrible person. Why did I not yell at him for causing my mom to become so depressed? about making my mom feel inadequate as a wife? for causing my mom to think that she undeserving of love? Why?
I sometimes wish I was like my brother who would almost get in physical altercations with my dad and yell at him for all that he did to my mom. I wish that I had the courage to do that. To stand up for my mom and let him know that he is not worthy of her, that what he did was wrong. Yes, they have a strained relationship but at least he defended my mom like a child should.
I guess it's much easier to pretend since then I don't have to acknowledge another issue that was a direct correlation of his infidelity. If I pretend then I don't have to that dark secret and find out the truth. I would be devastated if I did and I really don't know if I could handle that.
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