So as I prepared myself for the move in with my father, I had no idea what I had in store. Fast forward a few months, The day had finally arrived when I was going to move in with my father… I was very nervous but very excited to start my relationship building with him finally after all the years of waiting.
Little did I know that as excited as we both were it was not a dream come true and which I had envisioned, The day I moved in and went rather quickly and smoothly at the same time it seemed as though everything was in slow motion, as I unpack my stuff in my now 12-year-old room I quickly began to notice that my “room” was a storage room basically it was an actual bedroom but it was full of his unused furniture.
“No matter” I said to myself that this was the beginning of a great start”.
That night my father and I had a conversation about the “rules of the house” and the agreement in which I had to adhere to to live with him for the next year or two while I went to community college. The following rules were;
1. I could never have anyone over without him present or him knowing who they were.
2. Could never go into his room without his permission.
3. I was to never go in his office under any circumstance without him at the house and giving me permission.
4. I was to never be in his house alone.
5. I was never to come home before him or be with a key to the home ever.
6. I left the house at 6 o’clock in the morning every morning and came back at 8 PM at the earliest every night.
“These are my rules, follow them and we will be just fine.” Those were the only words that he spoke after giving me the house rules.
I quickly realized what was happening and how I was being treated and I was not happy about it, but what was I to do? After all he didn’t even know me hardly but I was his child and that’s why it hurt so much.
This went on for about 6 months we would go our separate ways at 7:30 everyday. As I recall we may have sat for breakfast twice. There was one night we got into an argument and he threw an avocado passed my head and before I gathered my things to leave he came up to me and put his hand around my neck & said those famous words ” I made you, remember that I don’t have to treat you any better than shit.”
This being said, I picked up my things & left. About a half hour into driving my father calls and apologizes for his behavior; explaining he’s never raised me so this parenting thing is ” All new to him” even though he’d raised my step sister in that very home for many a year. He proceeds to ask “So what time are you coming back home?” To which I reply “I don’t know Dad when I feel like it I guess.” He proceeds to say the door is unlocked whenever I come back to just lock the door behind me when I come in. This was just 3 months into living with my dad. I was to start a new semester in university soon.