Toxic parents
My relationship with my parents was toxic. My father only spoke to me when he was drunk. He would enjoy provoking me with hurtful words, and when he was doing […]
My relationship with my parents was toxic. My father only spoke to me when he was drunk. He would enjoy provoking me with hurtful words, and when he was doing […]
My father often told me when he was drunk that he wanted a boy and was disappointed when we were born. I was relieved I was born a girl because […]
It looked to me that my father had as many friends as his foes. He had known most of them since childhood or high school. Some of them became his […]
I sensed that my father had political enemies. He had a clique of friends, and there was the other clique that didn’t see eye to eye with his. The leader […]
My father almost didn’t go to high school. The family was poor, and my grandfather needed my father to start working in the rice field as early as possible. It […]
Once my sister and I were old enough not to ride on our father’s back, his approach to communication with us was by alcohol, mockery, and provocation. Without alcohol, he […]
My father only looked at his daughters in the eyes when he had enough alcohol in the system. One game he liked to play with us was “a horse.” He […]
When my father came home from work, he’d start drinking immediately—beer with dinner, then sake or whiskey with TV. He liked to watch Hollywood action films on our only TV […]
I had only known my father at home. In the morning, he’d get up 2 hours after my mother, who had already done laundry, mopping, cooking breakfast, and packing bento […]
There is a photo of me, my sister and my father, taken by the lake. I was about two or three years old, my sister six or seven. We were […]