life-altering pleasure of growing up
I don’t know if this experience is particularly unique anymore, but I had the life-altering pleasure of growing up knowing my mother did not love my father. I first found out at five when my sister and I snuck downstairs to watch television at the very late hour of 10:00 and heard shouting coming from our parent’s room. At the time, I did not understand what “Really?! Again Cheryl!” meant, but my sister, who is older than I am, helped by explaining to me what cheating is. From that point on, my illusion that perfect people existed crumbled. I started to realize that my Dad always slept on the couch and how my Mom spent as little time as possible at home. I also realized it would destroy my father if he knew that I knew.
I think this is why I have always been so strangely mature for my age. When I was eight, I started saving for my car because I didn’t want to be a “financial burden” and when I was 12 and had a panic attack for the first time, I had an 8-point plan laid out before my parents even knew there was a problem. Because of my maturity, I solve problems, my own and others, quickly and effectively, and I typically act as a voice of reason for peers. I can be a bit boring sometimes, but everyone around me knows I dependable, and I think that’s a beneficial perspective to contribute.