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My Father....

I stared blankly at my father while he spoke to me. I watched his lips form words, but I heard nothing. I couldn't believe what he had just told me. After months of him trying to explain to me why I had to buy my own car, he was now trying to explain to me why he bought my sister a new car. I was stunned. I had finally accepted the fact that I was going to pay for my own car, when my sister hadn't, and now I was being told that my parents bought her another car. I didn't get it. I couldn't understand how there was no way to come up with the money when I needed it, but it was magically there when she needed it. I was furious, confused, I felt cheated. I slowly turned and walked away, not sure if my father ever finished what he was saying. I didn't care the damage was done. I couldn't understand this time. There had already been so many times where I thought they favored her more than I, but now it was staring me right in the face. There was no excuse. It was blunt favoritism. This was my 16th birthday. This conversation, was all I received for my 16th birthday. Why? My parents had spent all their money on my sister's car.

From this moment on my father and I rarely got along. I was extremely bitter, and he was too stubborn to admit that what happened may have hurt me. He thought I was being unreasonable. He thought that I understood that I was more responsible than my sister was, but I didn't. What he didn't understand was that I felt as if I was being punished for being responsible. So, I decided to be irresponsible, hoping for the opposite effect. My grades began to slip, I didn't clean my room, I rarely worked on my homework, and I spent a lot of time on the Internet. I lost every ounce of self-confidence I had, and I became depressed. My days consisted of going to school, coming home and taking a nap, going on the Internet, and then going to bed. My mother noticed something was wrong, and she questioned me, but I just snapped at her and told her to leave me alone. I went by like this for quite some time when I finally decided I needed help. This wasn't who I wanted to be, I hated the person I had become.


I approached my mother and told her I wanted to see a counselor. I needed someone to talk to, someone who could understand or at the very least pretend to understand. A month went by, and my mother failed to schedule an appointment. Finally, I asked her once again, and she promised this time she would follow through. That same day she called a local counseling agency, and scheduled my first appointment. I was anticipating finally getting help, finally being myself again. I missed being happy.

I opened the door and walked inside. There was a short woman with blond hair sitting behind the desk, and she asked for my name. I quietly responded and took at a seat in the chair closest to the door. She said that my counselor would be just a moment, and offered a magazine for me to read. I declined, and fidgeted nervously with my car keys. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the door to the office opened, and my counselor said he was ready. I quietly stood up, and followed him into his office. I sat down on the couch, and he sat in a chair facing me across the room. He asked how I was doing, and made small talk. He asked a few questions about my family life, and being a middle child. Then, after approximately an hour, it was time for me to go. I left quietly, and got in my car and drove away. I drove around for awhile thinking about everything before I went home. I already felt a great deal better, and I was happy that I had accepted I needed help.

After that first appointment I continued going to counseling once or twice a week. After a few sessions my counselor told me it would be a good idea if my father came to a few sessions with me. I told him I would ask my father, and let him know. I approached my father nervously one night, and quietly asked him if he would come to counseling sessions with me. My father gave me a blank stare and after a few moments of silence he responded with a simple "No". I sighed and walked out of the room. I was hurt. I didn't know what to think, but my first thought was that my father was not willing to help me heal my open wounds but instead, he was pouring salt into my open wounds, and all I could do was watch and sit silently in pain. He wasn't willing to meet halfway, he wasn't willing to work out our problems, and he wasn't even willing to try.


My father never went to counseling sessions with me. I continued going alone and eventually I worked out some issues on my own. But, my father and I still don't get along. I have bitter feelings towards some of his decisions, and he has bitter feelings towards some of my decisions. We don't talk much, and when we do we"re either arguing, or just making small talk. I don't remember the last time we talked about anything serious. I have no idea of the last time my father told me he loved me. I remember very few times in my life where he told me he loved me, and I don't expect to hear those words too often in the future.



I wrote this some time ago, hopefully some of you can relate. All fiction by the way.

Father My

I am not sure what I would do I that kind of if I were you but I think it could
be because of your grade in school or mabe they dont trust you or mabe they
dont want you to grow up.

My Father.... Reviews Consumer & Travel Family Culture

I normally wouldn't respond to something like this, but here it goes. You found out that your parents aren't perfect. In fact they are much less then that. But in the end you are the one that has to deal with it. Regardless of what they do or have done the end result is that you have to pay. I don't even think it is about the car. I think you don't feel loved. So to get attention you are being rebellious by doing the opposite. Parents mess up and their pride is to strong for them to admit it. Giving you a car would admit it. And you don't have a car and you don't have the affection, so get over it. It will make you better in the long run. Your bad grades and depression are hurting you more than them. I am the youngest of 6. I didn't get anything. I had to pay for my own car and everything else. I am 26. I have my own business and I made 72,000 last year. That more than any of my brothers and sisters make. I don't ask anything from anyone. And everyone around me really on me to make things happen. My other brothers and sisters are sitting around still complaining about mom and Dad. In a lot of ways they had it easier than me. I am a power house in anything I try to do. And my confidence is the opposite of when I was a teen. And that didn't happen from things being handed to me. Get up and catch up and pass everyone. Laugh all the way to whatever it is you want to do. Your parents will be long gone and dead by the time you are sitting in a trailer blaming yourself for not doing good in school. ExtrahSW " Welcome to mcdonalds may I help you". It is all about your future.

And by the way your counsiler is just pulling a check. And he sucks.

Father My

When my father gained custody of me when I was 7 I realized that he wasnt the amazing perfect person I always thought he was. He became cold and we never really got along. It was that way for 6 years, throuhg 2 girlfriends and such. When I finally moved to my mothers house our relationship became better. I was never sure exactly how that happened.

Father My

I have to wonder what would make you write something like this and then call it "fiction"?

My Father....

Is this a step father or an actual biological father. In my experience step fathers tend to treat step children a lot differently than blood related ones.

It sounds like this sort of favoritism was going on before the car incident and probably will continue after.

I would just accept the relationship for what it is. Move on and learn to take care of myself. The other child is always going to be better no matter what you do, so just be you. If your grades are slipping and stuff like that, that is your choice. I find one of the worst things you can do in situations like this is blame the parent for your bad behavior. It may be self satisfying for the now but later it will catch up to you.

On a side note my biological father was never there for me. Yet he still expects me to send him a fathers day card and a birthday card. I do send him cards but only because my grandpa asks me to. Somehow in his mind my biological father has convinced himself that he did something as a father. I am not really sure what that is but I don't have the heart to burst his bubble, so I play along. I haven't spoken to my step father in about 15 years. Needless to say I have some issues with my parents in general.

On the up side I have a son who is turning 5 tomorrow. He tells me he loves me all the time, just out of no were. That is a really great feeling that I would not have known if I held grudges I think. If I let myself convince myself I don't know how to be a father because I never had a good one, I wouldn't have an awesome relationship with my son.

I know the wording was a little confusing there but basically I am saying don't carry baggage around. If you just let it go and accept it for what it is you can make better choices with a clear mind.

Edited: Oliron on 19th Jun, 2010 - 5:16pm

My Father....

I was feeling really sorry for her until I got to the very last line that stated that it was fiction!
There probably really are many families who come up against similar situations like this though, and I feel it's very important to treat all your children the same, and let them know that you love them!

My Father.... Culture Family Travel & Consumer Reviews

That's either part of a play or something because it sounds to real to be fiction. I was getting kind of emotional over it.