Just because something does or doesn’t happen to you doesn’t necessarily mean that it doesn’t occur. The best example of this is the latest conversation that I had with my brother. For example, my whole life I felt like he, my sister and my mom had this strange close bond between each other and I was excluded because “I was like dad”. My mom is an artist and has been an art teacher and always tried to be an artist in her free time. My brother and sister seemed to fall into that easily and could draw, paint, etc, fairly easily and do it well. Dad was a musician and played the trumpet and piano and had a music scholarship for college at WKU. Due to Vietnam, and family issues, he ended up not drafted and working at the phone company as an outside lineman for his entire career. 33 years, ultimately. 33 years… 🤯

During that time, he married, had a daughter, divorced, remarried, and had 3 more kids, me being the middle kid of that second crew. He and I seemed to be like a spitting image of each other, in so many ways. We talked constantly, could have a conversation with a fencepost, I’m sure Josh Overmeyer could attest to that fact. The biggest thing was that I saw dad as my confidant, my friend, someone I could talk to and trust with my feelings. But it wasn’t always like that.

Hate Takes Energy. LOTS of Energy

There was a time I didn’t like him and there was a time I hated him. Like actively spent energy on hating him. And if you’ve ever really hated anyone, holy shit, it takes a LOT of energy. A LOT. After about 18 months, I realized that he wasn’t worth the energy it took to hating him. It took more energy to dislike him than if I just didn’t care. That’s a sobering thought. When someone doesn’t even seem to be worth enough energy to care about. 😳

But there I was. Enter my ex stepmom. She wanted all of us to come together and well, she succeeded. I eventually told dad that I could wipe the slate clean and move forward from here on but it wasn’t baseball, there weren’t 3 strikes, he got 1. Just 1. But I’d be willing to start there if he was. And he was more than excited to have a chance and off we went. From there, it was one of the stronger adult relationships I’ve ever had. We talked often, usually a couple times a week and if it went less than 2 hrs it was shocking, lol. We’re both talkers, so content was never an issue. But we’d be open and vulnerable and share life with each other and that was what I loved and enjoyed.

Reconciliation Works

It’s scary and hard to trust someone with your feelings. Really scary. That’s why when people find that someone they usually marry them and spend their lives together. And I’m not saying I wanted to marry dad, rather that connection with anyone is special, regardless of how they came into your life. One of my greatest supporters in my life now is a friend I’ve had since 🤷🏻‍♂️ 2010 or so? But I can tell him my feelings, good and bad, how life is going (for real) and not ever think I’ll be judged, but rather supported, accepted and asked how they can help to make life better. That’s a friend, and what I had with dad for the last 8-10 yrs of our relationship.

Things are never the same for you as other people. As we’ve seen over the past year and longer, that just because things don’t happen to you doesn’t mean that they don’t happen to other people. I should’ve known this but even I was blinded to that fact. While I was able to make amends and ultimately have a good relationship with my dad, I didn’t consider that my siblings couldn’t so the same. To be fair, my relationship with my mom was toxic. Imagine loving someone and constantly feeling they keep you at arm’s length and don’t even acknowledge you’re in their top 10 of important things in life, and that’s my mom. My therapists both in LA and OK pointed this out, and this is why I was so comfortable with my ex wife, let’s call her Mabel, because emotionally, Mabel was the same emotional relationship I was comfortable with having grown up with my mom. No physical relationship, love is on their terms and there isn’t any way I felt loved, unless they “allowed it”. Super controlling in every way, but especially emotionally. When my OK therapist brought this up, I was like 🤯OMG… Yeah, that tracks.🤯

Nothing is Unique

What I’d didn’t expect was that my situation was unique. After talking with my brother this evening, I found out that I’m not unique, no one is unique, and life and poor parenting cam happen to anyone. Much like my mom was toxic to me, he never knew anyone beyond “the asshole” that was my dad. We talked and I was like, well growing up there was “the asshole” and then there was “Pat” the neutral version of dad. Not mean but not nice. My brother said he never knew anyone but the asshole. No “Pat”, no “dad” just the asshole. Always. There was never any connection as a friend or confidant or even parent. It blew my mind. How is it that this person I could share with and be so intimate with and be so supported by, be nothing more than an asshole to my sibling who was in the same situation?! I was lost.

Then I started thinking about my relationship with mom. She was a very talented artist with pottery, charcoal drawing, pastels, and watercolor and my brother and sister picked up on that immediately, it seemed. They were all talented in that respect and while I might be able to draw 2d better than most,it sucks compared to them. 😂 They had this incomparable bond and art seemed to be it. I always felt on the outside with those 3.

I just never realized that it went both ways. Because I felt ostracized with my siblings and mom, and more so because “you’re just like dad” and noone liked dad, well, it made sense that if dad asked me to hang out, it beat the shit out of being around that environment. Seriously, it felt like a “you’re with us or against us and we’ve already decided you’re against us” sort of thing. So when dad would go out to have coffee with his HAM radio buddies on the weekend hell yeah I’d go. I learned to talk to all kinds of people. I asked questions and learned all about how to solder, make radios, electrical engineering (very minor for sure) but if I asked questions (which I did A LOT) they were more than happy to answer. And I got to spend time with dad. And we’d go hiking together or spend time together in other ways but mostly it revolved around HAM radio.

Again, even with this seemingly solid foundation, remember this is still a person with undiagnosed bipolar disorder that was self medicating with “not alcohol” at that time so he was still an asshole to deal with. Or rather he was dad, and was “moody” “disruptive” “explosive” or more. Her could also be loving, kind, and hugged me more than any person I’ve met to date but he wasn’t without his faults.

Jealousy Sucks: In Every Way

While I had this seemingly “great” relationship with dad, my siblings saw it as we were tight and they just got treated like an afterthought because he was “the asshole”. And it sucks, because I’m like, sure me and dad didn’t get close until college but when we did, damn, he was my closest friend in the world. Literally, my best friend. We supported each other as best we could and we got each other and didn’t judge each other or anything.

But I get it. They felt that same strong relationship with mom but for me… Mom was toxic. I felt and she confirmed through action that I was the last thing on mom’s to do list each day. She’d get off work at 5pm and I’d get picked up between 7-9pm before she’d head out of town to the house. Literally, I was THE LAST thing on her list of stuff to do. As I progressed thru life, that never changed but became more amplified. At one point she was moving from New Orleans to Nashvegas and I went down to Slidell to help load stuff. She started crying at some point and I asked why and she replied that she was going to miss “her kids” so much and being so far away was going to be hard. I was kind of stunned because “her kids” she’d known for less than an academic year at that point, meanwhile her literal son and only grandson had lived within 30 min from her for the last 18 months and she’d never come up to visit once. Literally, visits were when I tried to get them to happen and seek validation for, idk but that’s what I wanted back then. Acceptance, confirmation I was doing great, and love. Just love. And nothing. I got nothing. When she said that statement, it validated all my feelings and all that I’d felt over the last few decades of not even being enough. To not be enough, I’d have to be noticed. You can’t be less than, when you’re not even noticed. While I’d like to say that was the end of my relationship with my mom it wasn’t. It went on for another 4 yrs until I was in Texas. Until finally, I was able to say that I deserved better than that.

I just never realized my brother could’ve been feeling the same with my dad. I know he called him Pat (his name’ish) since the divorce, I just figured it was a male dominance, “you’re not my dad” sort of thing. I never knew it was that it was the least aggressive way to address him by also letting him know that “yeah, you’re done here”.

Summary

So, yeah. That’s my story of growing up with my parents and siblings. Rather, that’s one aspect of that whole godawfulness that was my childhood. 😆 I loved my dad, and I’m glad I got to know him and we became such friends and companions and confidants later in life. I’m sad for my brother that he never had that or got to see that side of dad. He was awesome. For me. He was supportive. For me. He was my best friend. For me. I still miss him. A lot.

I hope that my mom is as good as a support that I got from dad to my brother as my dad was for me. My brother and mom are super close. Always have been, and will be until they die. And I’m sad I don’t have that relationship, but I’m ok with it too. I cut my mom out of my life , idk, 5 yrs ago now? It’s been one of the better things for my mental health but it still sucks not having a relationship with a parent. Even when you know it’s toxic to you, it still sucks. Amd knowing how strong my dad’s relationship with me was and how much positivity it added to my life, I hope he’s getting the same from mom.

It’s just amazing to me, how disparate our perspectives are and yet we grew up in the same space, with the same people, and we actually felt supported and disliked/not even acknowledged by the other parent. Just… Wow…

I don’t know what the point of all of this story is other than, be empathetic. When hearing others stories, know there aren’t just 2 sides, there are at least 6 sides whether you recognize the other 4 sides at the time or not. Everything is more complicated than we make it seem to be, whether you acknowledge that it IS or isn’t more complicated. Your validation of a situation doesn’t make it any more or less real. That situation exists whether you decide to validate it or not.

In the end, be nice. Be caring and be open to other views than your own. Just because you also existed in the same time and space as someone else DOES NOT mean you experienced the same thing.

Have you ever experienced this? Do you have a sibling, ex, anything that sees things a totally different way but you both “lived thru the same experience”? Any thoughts on how it was different for them? I’d love to hear about it.