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  • My dad is a semi stranger to me. Lots of spans of time without regular contact, and he doesn't talk about himself a lot. My mom tells me stories (and while I get that everyone has some bias, she's not a liar), but the few times I've brought them up with my dad he just says it's not true but won't follow up with his version. When I push, he gets angry and leaves. It's just not worth it, and I belive my mom, anyway. Her version is most likely close enough to how things transpired.

    It makes me sad when I'm around my good friend, because her dad calls her every day to check in and chat. My dad only checks in when he's heard concerning news about someone else and it somehow remindeds him of me. I do reach out when good news happens to me, but I generally get negative or pessimistic responses from him, like the news is never good enough for his standards.

    He got remarried and his new wife has pretty awful anger issues. I've messaged less because of it, so now he's even more of a stranger. I don't know. I can't force more of a relationship when he's just not interested.

    My mom and I, on the other hand, are very close and chat almost daily. We have our own issues, and she's struggling with her health right now, so I'm even more involved. She's turning 70, and I've recently noticed there's been a shift where she's a bit more child-like and I'm more of the adult who gives advice on how to handle things and what to do. She's moving closer to me now that I've taken a job in another state and gets excited about us doing stuff together again. I call her with good news and we celebrate. She's very supportive.

  • My mother was mostly a stranger growing up. I don't know exactly how the arrangement came about, but I was my father's child. She kept her distance and took to my sibling instead. She worked weekends when I was younger so I saw her comparatively little, and by the time I was a teenager my father's abuse had long since driven her into drink and depression. I had little idea what she liked, what her hobbies were or what her life was like before me.

    I left in my late teens but moved back in with her in my early 20's. They had divorced just before I left, and she hadn't been coping with it very well. I hadn't coped well with life either. Those were some hard years at first. Both traumatized and stranded. I've gotten to know her very well since then. Frankly, too much. She's no saint, but she's well intentioned and I've come to love her even if I didn't as a child.

    My father I always knew. He's not exactly hard to understand, just another emotionally stunted and cowardly little man. We were only ever a tool for him - to win approval from his parents, and to provide one small space where he could inflict his control. I know every little thing he likes because those were the only things that were allowed to matter. He tried desperately to make me become like him. I am very glad I am not.

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