[thought_pool]

This is a long read but I'm mostly posting this for myself to lay out the way I feel about my father.

As a small child, my dad made me feel like the best thing in the world, a complete princess. I remember spending afternoons rolling all over him, sitting in his lap, reading to him-- he was a wonderful father that I loved deeply; Growing into adolescence, I've grown to know a different (and maybe the true) version of himself.

Both of my parents are immigrants and have shared their stories with me, including their romantic pasts. They are 11 years apart; My dad met my mom, then a married woman, when she was 18 and charmed her heavily. He already had 2 infant kids (that we knew of) and his girlfriend left him and the children behind. My 18 year old mother left her husband and raised his kids as her own.
After all that sacrifice, year after year, my father continuously cheated on my mother-- while she was in the house, while she was at work-- he even married her best friend. My mother stayed.
I wish my parents didn't share these intimate details with me because it affects my judgment.

We lived in New York as I grew up, and I felt we were happy. When an argument broke out, my father would laugh and never argue back-- which I see why that is so frustrating and hurtful now-- but I thought he was just in a good mood at my age. Both my parents had their extended families around and everything was balanced. We chose to move to Florida when my some of my mother's family moved down. After visiting, my father fell in love with the place and we started building our home. He started HVAC school in NYC to prepare for a new career.

Something changed in him when we moved. Money was tight, my brother was a baby and he was the only one working. His family wasn't around anymore. He started to blame my mother for his unhappiness, for the move, for the struggles. Shamed her for not working. She took a job when my brother was about 3 and my father moved to his island for work. He would live there for about 2 or so years. I was 13-14 at the time, just starting high school. My mother and I fought a lot and I felt I was closer to my dad (up until about 16), so I missed him a lot. My mother started chatting with a man online romantically and I grew angry and confused. I told my older sister and asked her not to tell anyone because I wasn't sure. She told my dad and he took the next flight back to FL. The summer was awful. Fights were constant, racial slurs were used (my parents are an interracial couple), I witnessed my father strike my mother, threats were made, old memories and mistakes were brought up, things my father did-- and it was all my fault. My mother told me so. I ran away.

Things got better but never did it go back to being the same. After seeing the way my father reacted that summer, seeing the abuse, knowing everything he did and seeing him totally disregard it, I didn't feel the same way about him anymore. I grew close to my mother and I apologized to her. It was beginning to feel like it was her, my brother and I against him.

At age 16, I got my first boyfriend. He was a secret for a month but he pushed me to tell my parents. I told my mom first and she was concerned until she met him and loved him (she still does and we're not even together). When I told my dad, he was angry but did not blow up, which gave me hope, as I was accustomed to his rage by now. Over the next few weeks, he did blow up-- many times, often times at the smallest things like "Luis is coming with us to the movies." I understand parents are protective of their children but I don't know if I felt concerned about. My dad called me a slut, told me my mom was turning me into a prostitute. On one occasion, a bit of midriff was showing as I swept the floors, he screamed at me and yanked my pants down. He smashed my laptop and phone on the patio floor so I couldn't speak to my boyfriend He hit my mom again and I called the cops on him, but asked that they would not take him away, only scare him. He ranted to my older brother about how "I was treating him," and my older brother scolded me for calling the police.

I would often cry and vomit from the stress of living at home. My dad would never apologize or acknowledge the things he said or had done. He would act as if he were in disbelief, as if it wasn't him doing these things. He pretended he didn't remember, and that hurt more. It took him 3 years to acknowledge the things he did when I was 16 and when he did, I tried to repair our relationship.

When I was 19 years old, I started dating my now boyfriend. My father was extremely racist against him being white. "Tell Steve to stop killing black people!" He would ignorantly say. He was beginning to act like he did years ago and our relationship was beginning to die. It took 5 months for me to muster up the courage to introduce Steve to my father. After meeting, my dad loved him and things got better, but I moved away from home. I felt like my mental state began to heal when I met Steve and new experiences helped shape who I am today and my sense of self. When I moved away from home, I felt free to laugh and be myself but I sat with worry for my brother and mother.

My father is generally disliked within my mom's family, even some, if not most, of his own family. He is very manipulative-- the type to smile in your face and talk badly about you behind your back. The type to try to distract you with minute details when he's in the hot seat-- so many details, you'll forget your question if you're not careful. He will do things to make you feel uncomfortable so you'll leave (like start vigorously cleaning while you're sitting around chatting); no one really came to our house for parties or get togethers. He speaks very highly of himself (and he has accomplished a lot, I admire him for that.) He's a dictator in every aspect (you can't even take a shower without him pounding on the door about your 3 minute time limit.)

Fast forward to 2019. I get a frantic call from my brother, who is now 16, crying on the phone, barely getting words out through his tight throat. He sounds scared and hurt. I couldn't understand what he was saying, so my mother took the phone to tell me what happened. The shower knob broke, my father found it and my brother didn't tell him it was broken. My brother confessed he didn't realize it was broken and my father did not believe him (he's convinced my brother is a liar. He was also convinced my brother was gay when he was only 3 years old and treated him very coldly.) Arguments arose between the two of them and my father pushed my brother into a wall and choked him. My brother pushed him off, my father collided into the kitchen barstools and fell to the ground.
My mother sent me pictures of my brother's throat. Faint signs of my father's fingers were bruised into his skin. My father ripped my brother's chain off, cutting his neck and making him bleed. I love my brother deeply. He and my mother are 2 of my best friends. I grew cold and left work immediately. I made the 40 minute drive to confront my father in 20.

He tried to dance around my questions, but I was prepared for him. I knew him, I'd seen enough. I'd been through enough. By this time, my mother was home with us. She sat on the couch but I didn't want her in the room, she is susceptible to his manipulation-- he's been doing it to her her whole adult life! She doesn't know any better. She hadn't been treated any better.
Each time he tried to distract me with details, I tried to bring him back. "How does a broken shower knob lead to you choking your own son?" He even went as far as trying to explain to me how a shower works and the ins and outs of knobs. Deflection.
When he figured out he couldn't break my focus and the truths I spat at him, he resulted to insulting me and denying he had done anything to my brother. He turned the attention to his pain regarding his fall. He called me psychotic, asked me why I was in "his house" and told me I was no longer welcome in "his house." "You left. This is not your home anymore. What business do you have here? This is none of your business. Stay out of matters that don't concern you."

The argument ran in circles-- talking turned to shouting, shouting into screams, screams into tears. As usual. I felt scared for my mother and brother and wanted them out of that house. I offered for them to spend the weekend with Steve and I, and they did. We had fun and I tried to speak to my mother about a divorce, my grandmother did as well. Our whole family was disappointed to know she wouldn't follow through. I didn't go home for 3 months even though I missed my mother and brother so much. I spent a lot of time crying about the way my father made me feel and started to realize his lack of healthy love has affected me in so many ways. At family functions, he wouldn't even speak to me.
I was suffering so much between Steve confessing his infidelity and my father's harshness that I broke down and just hugged my dad at a family gathering. He was confused, but I did it for myself, and I felt calmer. Thoughts of leaving our relationship as just civil formed in my mind.

Last week, I was speaking with my mother on FaceTime as we do every night, laughing and having a good time. My father says hello to me out of frame and I never know how to speak to him anymore. No part of me really wants to. I say hello cordially and answer his questions "how are you, how is Steve" etc. I had no infliction in my voice because I just wanted to continue talking to my mother.
I called my father a few days later to ask a question about his island, and he asked me, "Ashley, why were you so cold to me on the phone the other day?" and the question stunned me, as if to say: "Where have you been the last decade or even the last 7 months? How can you wonder why I'm so cold?"
I chose not to answer his question and instead said "Okay, I'm not going to talk about this right now. Bye," because I knew where it would end up and I'm tired of the toxicity.

Am I selfish to want to exclude my father from my life? Many people tell me I need to forgive him and repair our relationship. "You only get one dad," I understand that-- but why do I have to have one that hurts people?

[Medusax]

WOW!! And I thought MY dad was a jerk. I drifted away from my father and eventually my mother after I found out a couple of things later in life...No. you are not "selfish". You are saving yourself a load a BS that you don't need. Most of the reason I am such a hard ***** is because of my parents. In SOME ways that has helped me. But in others, it didn't. Oh...the SHOWER..... Both myself and my sister experienced the "shower police"..even though HE could be in there as long as he wanted....

[thought_pool]

Originally Posted by Medusax

WOW!! And I thought MY dad was a jerk. I drifted away from my father and eventually my mother after I found out a couple of things later in life...No. you are not "selfish". You are saving yourself a load a BS that you don't need. Most of the reason I am such a hard ***** is because of my parents. In SOME ways that has helped me. But in others, it didn't. Oh...the SHOWER..... Both myself and my sister experienced the "shower police"..even though HE could be in there as long as he wanted....

Thank you for your relation.
I can't believe there are more shower police out there! Weird form of control.