All these years I have been trying to figure out my father. Is he a good person or a bad person? Should I imitate him or move in a completely opposite direction? Did he love his family or were we a nuisanceÖan impedance to his aspirations? Many times I felt like my brothers and I were just in the way, just another mundane obligation like taxes or bills.

Iíve hungered to learn about his origin, his upbringing, and his past, of which I know very little. Iíve yearned to understand him but I just realized I was just searching for a reason to justify his abuse; a reason to let all his actions towards me slide and disappear. I have never found that silver bullet and I suspect I never will so Iíve decided to stop searching and justifying. He abused me because he chose toÖnothing made him do it. He did it of his own accord.

During my childhood, my father was neither good nor bad, loving nor hating, caring nor neglecting. I came to realize he was just sick, fake and self-centered. He was incapable of sharing himself with me, as a father appropriately should. His actions spoke louder than words. He is my anti-model of what a father should be. His disinterest in me then equals my disinterest in him now. It doesnít mean I hate him, but Iím ready to move on.


Its ok to grieve the past as long as you eventually accept the truth. Try to be present in the here and now...the future will follow shortly thereafter.