I will just continue from where I left off, and also please pardon any spelling mistakes at this time.
So, I decided to become my mom's hero, and you might be wondering whatever became of my older brother and younger half cousin brother; The oldest one, learned to drive in order to be out of the house as often as possible. To escape the negative environment. So, he basically, did not witness most of what I say my dad doing to our mom.
The other one, left us and returned to his real mother, once we got back to El Salvador. He joined the gang and started going down a bad, bad road. Currently he is in jail.
So, it got to the point that each time my dad was around, I would be on the look out for my mom, and myself. He left me alone much of the time, and I avoided him as much as possible. My mom would step around him, and in the end, she tried reaching out to my hardened heart. Yet, it was not easy to come out and trust her. In the end she slowly, opened up about her failed relationship with my dad, and her life story.
Also, she and I would go out together, and avoid him at all cost. I do not know if my brother noticed all this or not. If he did and chose to ignore it with beer and cigarettes, I am not sure.
I just started fighting back, and my dad did not like that I was not submitting myself as before, and each time I tried finding my voice he would keep me quiet.
At times he would use my weight as an excuse as to why I would never be accepted less respected by others within society. He kept on saying that, everyone that was fat or fatter than me, were to blame, and to not expect anyone to want to befriend me, or even talk to me. I kept on telling him that this was a lie, cause I had teacher who were big yet I never dare disrespect them less hate them.
I never judged anyone by their looks and in the end, I disagreed with my dads own point of view. There were other instances in which he and I would fight physically, and he knew I was strong enough to withstand him.
Once my daughter came into the picture, he tried avoiding to argue or discipline me in front of her, as he noticed how she was already defending me at such a young age.
Yet, at times, they would use her as bait to get me to submit to their ideas. And more than once, if my dad was mad enough, he would take her from me, and keep her in their room for the night.
Other times, he made me sleep on the floor outside my room as punishment for fighting him back. While all this was going on, my brother was getting drunk, sleeping around and started smoking inside his room.
My mom never said a thing, and my dad tried controlling him, to no avail.
He was their favorite and still is to this day. Anything he asked or complained about, they would look to improve or give him. My mom preferred his high social class friends verses mine whom came from either middle low to low class society within our country.
My friends were from humbled homes, and even if they lacked things materially speaking, what I always found within their own homes was parental love.
I preferred being with them and would even lie about a homework assignment just to get out of my parents home.
My friends did not mind. I was wanting to become independent, but my parents, mainly my dad was not wanting to let go of me so easily.
During all those years, I shed many tears of frustration, anger, loneliness, hurt, confusion, a sense of losing my life, and never being treated as part of the family nor seen as God sees me.
Even now, as they choose to call me crazy and nuts, and my dad continues to deny all I have said about him, my brother keeps on saying that we grew up in a loving environment, yeah right, maybe he did, but I felt, saw and knew more than he has ever known.
I will lose them in the end, and it will hurt but I rather be with my baby girl than with them.
Ok, well, I just needed to get this out, you know.
Thanks to all whom have come and read my story.
As I continue on this journey towards healing.
Angel 4 Eternity
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