I have never been the type of person to be super open about my emotions. I would much rather deal with things on my own and not open up completely with anyone. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to anyone about my problems, I just can’t do it. Nothing would make me happier than getting everything off my chest so I wouldn’t have to carry such a profound weight all the time. Whenever I attempt to initiate a conversation about how I feel, my palms get really sweaty, my heart rate starts to pick up and I can feel my stomach drop over and over again. I have an immense fear of rejection and this all stems from my relationship or lack thereof with my father.
My parents split up right before I turned four years old. They broke up amicably. My father came over regularly for family dinners, he was invited to all family celebrations such as Christmas dinner at my grandparents’ house and he never missed one of my practices or games. My brother and I looked forward to going to his apartment every other weekend. It wasn’t much, a one bedroom basement apartment with little to no furniture. He had a fold up kitchen table, a pull out couch, a queen size bed and a TV. He only knew how to cook two dishes but looking back on it now, he was trying. The changes came slowly then everything stopped all at once. He met someone. I never had a problem with him moving on but she wasn’t nice to my brother or I. It was obvious she didn’t like us and she never had a problem showing us that. Soon after she moved in with him, he started coming to my brother’s and I’s functions less and less. I remember him telling us he wasn’t coming for Christmas morning for the first time. I remember being confused and extremely hurt by this. We used to live less than five minutes apart and by the time I reached the seventh grade, I rarely saw him. His girlfriend has a child from a previous relationship and he never missed one of her dance recitals but he always missed my hockey games. Flash forward a few more years, he has two children with her. I now have a half brother and a half sister that I will never have the chance of knowing. I know for a fact that he is a great father to those two kids, he is there for them everyday, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted from him. Why couldn’t he do that for me? What did I do to deserve being a second choice? Why am I never enough? Why does my own parent not want me?
Facade is the perfect word to use when it comes to me dealing with my emotions. I usually come across as cold and detached and unbothered. I want people to think that I don’t care so I can distance myself and avoid getting hurt. This year, I am actively trying to change this and I’m trying to open up more and let people in so I don’t feel so alone all the time.
I really liked writing this piece but it didn’t start out that way. I really struggled on what to write about but once I found my letter which is Facade, it really flowed out of me. It was kind of therapeutic to write this piece but if I were to go back, I would take more risks and put myself out there more and dig a little deeper.