How Divorce Changed Me

How Divorce Changed Me



I cried. All the time. Every day for more than a year. I thought, how could this happen to me? How could my parents put me through emotional hell at only 9 years old.

I was living in Europe when my parents told my sister and I the heart wrenching news — they were getting a divorce. That was the day my life changed forever. A day that turned me into the person I am today.

Before my parents separated and divorced, I was a happy, carefree child. Afterward, I grew into a serious and bitter young woman.

It all started a year before that day, when I started to listen to the screaming of my parents’ voices from downstairs. I guess they thought I didn’t have the hearing capacity to listen to their conversations, but I did. I heard almost every word.

“I hate you.”

“You have ruined my life.”

“I don’t want you around my kids.”

I was just 8 years old. I was so baffled by the constant arguing.

I would fall asleep to the screeching of my parent’s voices. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand why my parents were doing this to me. Every night I cried myself to sleep, praying to God this would stop.

Eventually, it did. My father moved out of the house and my mother acted like he never existed. Until one day, he came by. I knew something was up. They sat my sister and I down and the words still replay in my head like a broken record.

“We have something to tell you. We are getting a divorce.”

I sunk through the brown leather couch cushion, not shocked by the words but incredibly disappointed. There was a small part of me that thought maybe they could be happy again, but that was just the inch of child left in me thinking.

My parents argued for a while about custody, but fortunately, we didn’t have to go to court. My sister and I moved back to Texas with my mom while my dad stayed in Europe for a few more months, then moved back to the States.

I tried, I tried so hard not to be angry, but it was inevitable. I was mad at them for making me move. I was mad at them for arguing. I was mad at them for never considering how this would impact me. I was bitter. I was bitter about marriage. I was bitter about love.

I wasn’t just bitter about marriage and love, I was bitter about moving back to the States. I grew up in Europe. It was my home, and they just took away one of the only things that made me happy. Words can’t describe how furious I was at them for that. The day I left for Texas, was probably one of the worst days of my life. I cried that whole day. On the way to the airport, at the airport and on the plane. I wasn’t ready for a completely new life, but I had no choice.

Throughout the past six plus years, I have felt like their divorce has affected me. I have tried to stray away from relationships in high school because I don’t see the point, the bitter side of me thinks “it won’t work out anyway what’s the point.” I also have a hard time trusting people because I’ve been let down by the two people who weren’t suppose to let me down.

I never got an explanation of exactly why they went from being in love to hating each other, and that bothers me. It scares me how two people can be in love one day, and the next hate each other. I wish my parents just could’ve told me what happen. At the time I was too young to understand, but now I’m old enough. I want an explanation. I know there’s more to the story, I just hope one day they can relinquish the truth to me.

To this day, I’m still struggling with the act of forgiveness, but forgiveness is a powerful thing. I know I need to forgive them — they are my parents. I know they love me, I know one day I will be able to forgive them. I just don’t know when.