It’s Tortilla Time| Hi I’m Tori and this is my Story

This afternoon found me shifting through old boxes, in desperate search of old journals that I have written. You see, I hope to eventually archive old journal entries on this site, too, in addition to my blog entries.

As I began sorting through old boxes, a particular booklet caught my eye. I immediately fished it out and opened it, taken aback when I realized that it was my parents’ divorce agreement. I opened it, perhaps against better judgement, and began reading intently. I knew that reading this booklet would release a flood of emotion, but I found myself unable to refrain from doing so.

My blood began to boil when I read of the vile tactics my father pulled throughout the process of their separation, most of which I was completely ignorant of. My parents decided to separate in October of 2000, my father not moving out until May of 2001. During those seven months, my father removed himself from family life, whilst my mother tried tirelessly to maintain a sense of family and togetherness for the sake of Ben and I.

Ben and I remained blissfully unaware of the tension lingering in our own home, a fact that I am ashamed of to this day. How could I have not have noticed? It wasn’t until April 29, 2001, a whole two days prior to our father’s departure, that we were informed of their intents to separate. Despite the fact that the separation had been planned for months, though unbeknownst to us, Ben and I were struck with a sense of grief and pure and utter shock.

Flipping through the pages, I learnt of several situations that I was previously unaware of. My father is a selfish, emotionless prick that could have cared less about our family. My mother suffered, as her sole concern was the wellbeing of her children. Despite the fact that my father became lazy and unwilling to help contribute to daily household tasks, my mum put on a brave face and sustained it all.

He withdrew himself from routine family activities, my mum was left to tend to it all. She lost a significant amount of weight on account of the sheer stress, and I had always blamed myself for this. Perhaps if I wasn’t such a demanding child my mum wouldn’t have been so stressed. I am irked now to know that I felt guilt for my father’s doings, not mine.

I was captivated by the divorce booklet for hours, and by the last page tears had welled up in my eyes. I looked up and the first thing I saw was an old picture peeking up from a box; it was of my parents together. It was then that I began to sob hysterically. Suppressed emotion had suddenly come rushing back, and I sat and cried to myself for a few moments. It was strangely therapeutic.

My mum had such a shitty time during the entire separation and divorce ordeal, and I was so caught up in my own emotions and heartache that I hadn’t even thought about what she had endured. Throughout the entire divorce, she had somehow fell victim to my blame. I blamed her for kicking dad out, and I wasn’t eager to forgive her, either.

I sit here is sheer amazement of the inner strength and determination of my mother. I am so gratified that she is my mother, as I have a strong, amazing female role model to look up to. She is most deserving of the happiness that she has found now, as she is with an absolutely amazing man. I can’t recall a time that she has been this content since the divorce.

I hope that my father, the vindictive snake that he is, enjoys his life with his new family and realizes what he has sacrificed and is missing out on.