Something uncomfortable and disturbing was taking place within my beautiful childhood home. When I was only three years old, my mom left my dad after a marriage full of abuse and economic struggles. She did anything she had to do to win custody of my sisters and me as we were living poorly with our dad but I never really felt like I was at home. My mom later fell in love with a realtor. Unfortunately, my mom went through years of abuse just to continue going through more in order to give us what she thought was a better life.

Once my mom had finally won custody of my sisters and me, we all moved into a huge house with my mom’s boyfriend at the time. She was being controlled and abused by him but I was too young to realize any of that. Unfortunately, my sisters were the age I am now and had to live every day knowing that our mom was a victim of domestic violence. Apart from my mom being abused, I’d have to watch him mistreat his daughter whom I was closer to than I was with my sisters. Whenever something like that would happen I’d feel the urge to help his daughter since I thought of her as one of my sisters but I was too afraid to ever do it. He once attempted to do the same to my sisters but my mom stood her ground and denied him the possibility of ever harming us. As a seven-year-old, his daughter and I would have to walk through long blocks of neighborhoods putting postcards for the realtor’s business on people’s doors. Most days, I would crave to stay home and play with my toys or watch TV as every other little kid did. I would inform my mom I didn’t want to go but she’d make me do it as she was scared of standing up to him.

As the relationship between my mom and him went on, I would see my mom cry because he was constantly being unfaithful but she never did anything or confronted him about it. For this reason, I was afraid of my family and I needing to start over such as us leaving and having no place to live again since we were never really stable.

I was not allowed to sleep with my sisters in their room and I think that was the main reason why I was never as close to them. At times he would try to make me forget about my dad whom I hadn’t seen. He would attempt to make me call him dad and at one point I tried to call him dad but it never felt normal to me. Being 7 years old, I just wanted a father figure in my life and clung to the idea that we’d be a big happy family. Today, my mom has found someone new who makes us all happy and comfortable, someone I can actually accept to see as my father figure.

To this day, my mom continues to ask if I'm comfortable as this part of my childhood left a negative effect on me. I have learned what an actual father is supposed to be like and I feel at peace knowing that my family and I are safe. I'm the closest I've ever been with my sisters and we continue to spend time with each other. I will forever be grateful and reminded of how much my strong mother went through and did for her family. I finally feel at home.

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