Today, I want to talk about something personal. Around this time 6 years ago, my dad broke the news to me and my brother and he and Mom would split up, and that we would have to move house. That’s the worst part!
Anyway, when I was 13, the end of my parents’ marriage practically meant the end of my world. It may sound crazy, but back then, that was what I thought. I felt that Mom was destroying the world I made for myself, by which I mean my personal space.
I never forgave them for it, not even after all the rationalizing everyone around me has given to the ultimately selfish choice that my parents made. I never forgave them because it meant moving house. In the old house, I felt like a king, and that I had my own castle.
Though they never got an official divorce, the whole revelation, and what followed, has negatively impacted my opinion on divorce as a whole. I understand that some people would choose it, but I think it’s an enormously selfish decision, and for two reasons:
- The woman bleeds the man’s money dry (in the form of alimony)
- It damages the children and could lead them to live miserable lives.
How? Well, children want to see their parents happy together, and when they see parents fighting, it affects them emotionally. Beyond that, after the divorce, the parents end up treating the children like property to be moved around at will, as if the parents in question didn’t value their kids little enough.
For those who’d say “a woman should have the right divorce her pig of a husband”, I call bullshit! If divorce was a good thing, then why would we be hearing of something called “Fathers 4 Justice”?
Of course, the other reason for my problem with divorce is because I’m a man. In a divorce, women have the most to gain, due to the system being biased towards women, which is ironic considering the feminists were supposedly fighting for “equality”. My point is, if I go through a divorce (which may not be likely), then I’m royally fucked!
My point is, before parents ever split up, they should think about the children first. If they don’t, then they should carry the inevitable shame of being irrevocably selfish for the rest of their lives.
But now that I think about it, part of this is my fault for not intervening at the first time I saw any sign. It was night-time on Christmas Eve 2006, and I saw my parents arguing over some meaningless shit I can’t remember. Had I known what could have been happening, I could have stopped them.
If I could, I would go back in time to that moment in Christmas Eve 2006, and warn my parents’ past selves about what they’re doing, and the consequences of their continued arguments. If it works, it could save my life.
But wait, there’s no such thing as time travel. Damn those lying “tschhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh….”