Ominous Velour

When my dad was my age, I was 10. My parents had been divorced for 6 years and he’d been remarried for 5. He lived in a different city about an hour from me, with my step-mom and my grandma. He worked during the week as a city bus driver, and spent weekends leaving me unattended in public places for several hours while he went on calls as a volunteer firefighter. At least, on the weekends he had to have me for visitation. (That actually only happened twice, but that’s still not exactly a world’s-best-dad-worthy record…)

When my mom was my age, I was 19. She was living with my step-dad 1000 km from me. She’d been there for 3 years, after re-marrying and leaving me on my own right before my 17th birthday. She was working as a clerk for the regional health authority and calling me regularly to explain to me why all of my life choices were mistakes.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love both my parents and I’m very lucky to still have them both alive and well. But suffice it to say I’d probably have a lot of childhood abandonment trauma to work through if I weren’t so skilled at dissociating and repressing. Gen X life skills, amirite?

❤️