I’ve never been the kind of person that could let go of things. I’ve been known to hold grudges, especially with my father. We are essentially the same person. We scream when we talk, and by scream I mean talk louder than normal, so when we have a conversation about what we don’t like, it seems like an argument. We’ve argued over so many things. We’ve cried and screamed in family therapy, all because neither of us wanted to admit we were wrong. Admitting we were wrong meant that we had this other person was right, and neither of us could accept the fact that we did something wrong. I desperately wanted to think I was right. I think part of me honestly just wanted to believe my dad was a bad man, that he couldn’t do right by me no matter what. I mean, when you grow up hearing stories about the bad things he’s done, and experience a man with such a bad temper that he embarrasses you at Walmart over a pool, you kind of build up a form of resentment toward him.

I very recently learned that most of my resentment towards my father were for things that were very much in the past, and as much as I hate to admit it, things I was wrong about. When I was younger, I never voiced my opinion much, especially with him. If he did something embarrassing, like yell at a waitress, I would sulk to my sister, and we’d hide in the booth together watching it happen. We didn’t tell him it made us uncomfortable, or were embarrassed when he did those things, because why risk getting yelled at for something we didn’t really understand? I didn’t like some, or most of the women he dated, yet when he asked us if we liked one of his girlfriends, we’d both smile and say “Yea dad, she’s fun!.” It was mostly our dishonesty to him that helped the resentment build up.

It wasn’t really until I started to voice my opinion that we started fighting, and I really hated being yelled at. I’d eventually just stop talking to him, and all communication between us would stop. I wouldn’t visit him, let alone talk to him on the phone. I’d try every now and then to go to dinner with him, but I’d always leave with something unsaid. I wasn’t going to budge, we both knew it. So for a while, I didn’t go to his house for holidays. I heard family news through my sister, and I started to really hate him for his lack of trying. Didn’t he want to talk to his daughter? Why didn’t he call? I didn’t call either.

It may have taken a few years of therapy and a lot of thinking, but my senior year of high school I realized there was a big chunk of something missing in my life, this feeling intensified when I learned that my dad would have to have surgery. The thought of not having him in my life tore me to pieces. What if something happened and he didn’t make it? I thought a lot about all the things my father and I had fought about, and about all the things he did, that didn’t ever really involve me in the first place. I went back through everything, all the little details. I analyzed every fight, and began to admit that I was wrong in a lot of places. But so was he. Neither of us was going to admit that to the other though. So when graduation rolled around, and he asked for a ticket, I swallowed all that resentment I had built up through the years, and let it go. Sure, he was more than welcome to come, and I really did want him there. This was such a big part of my life, it was like a milestone, how could I not want him there?

I’ve realized that there are a lot of people who could have it a lot worse than I do. People without dads, whether they chose to be out of their lives or not. I look back on all the things I’ve done with my dad, and while I still think about the times I wanted to hate him, I always come back to the same realization; He’s my dad. We are going to fight, but no matter how much we fight, I know that without him in my life, I wouldn’t be who I am today. He’s taught me that no matter what, if you don’t like something, you have the power to say something, and potentially change it. It may be a hell of a battle trying to get to what you think is right, and sometimes you may be wrong, but as long as you fight for what you believe in, you’re doing something right. I no longer let people push me around, and I thank him for my strong will to dig my feet in the ground and push right back at them. Both my mom and my dad are the reason I am who I am today. My mom’s taught me how to love unconditionally, and my dad has taught me how to fight for what I love, no matter how hard I have to fight.

My advice to you is this: When you’re butting heads with someone, especially someone who is a big part of your life, someone you

care about, take a step back, and really think about what they’re saying. They may be wrong, and you may want to go into your separate corners and ignore them until they admit they were wrong, but corners aren’t going to fix anything. Sometimes you need people to disagree with you, sometimes you need to be pushed in the right direction, even if you think you’re already going the right way. All of the anger you build up is only going to waste your time, and energy. You can spend so much more time making memories with someone than fighting with them, and have so much more to look back on. Once you move past the fighting, once you come out of the corner you put yourself in, you’ll realize how dumb it was to hold on to something for so long that just made you waste energy thinking about it. Don’t waste time being mad at someone that you need in your life, because you never really know what’s going to happen. Life changes so fast that sometimes when you try to hold on, as time goes on, it would hurt a lot less to let go. It’s like playing tug o war. The longer you hold on, the more your hands start to hurt, and you didn’t really care about the game anyway.