1 month ago
“He tried to be a life coach. One time he brought a green screen into our apartment, and filmed a video advertisement. I could hear him saying: ‘Do you want to change your life? Do you want to make better decisions?’ I remember thinking how funny that was; him wanting to be responsible for other people’s lives. Because he could never take responsibility for his own. There were times he would break things, because of his anger. He’d punch doors, or throw things across the room. But even when he apologized, he’d shift the blame on us—for making him so angry. I was the oldest sibling, and there always seemed to be a special anger reserved for me. I could never explain it. Then one day he sat me down. He said: ‘I have to talk to you about the way I used to behave.’ He used the words: ‘used to behave.’ Even though it was the way he still behaved. He said: ‘You have to understand: your birth wasn’t planned. We weren’t ready. And after you were born, that’s when things got difficult.’ I guess he'd figured that out in therapy. But I have no idea what therapist told him to have that conversation with an eleven-year-old. After that day I felt guilty for even existing. Part of me feels sorry for him. He’s pushed everyone away. He separated from my mom a few years ago. Even my youngest sister doesn’t talk to him anymore. When I turned twenty-one he kept sending me texts, asking to meet up for my birthday. I ignored him at first. But finally I agreed to meet, because part of me wanted to see what he was going to say. We met at a coffee shop. He said: ‘I’ve been reflecting a lot. And I finally understand that it was never your fault. It was your mother. I think she got pregnant on purpose, because she wanted to keep me.”