We don't all grow up in wonderful households with two perfect parents.

I know I didn't.

Up until I was about nine, I was living with a verbally abusive, manipulative, alcoholic father. He yelled, he woke me up in the middle of the night when I was very young to watch movies even when I screamed that I did not want to, he sometimes spanked me a little harder than he should have - but worst of all, he wasn't a father to me. He cared about alcohol more than he cared about me, and I know it was not my fault in the slightest.

I was one of the lucky ones, and my mom divorced my dad and threw him out. Despite the fact that he had visitation rights, my siblings and I rarely saw him after that. Let's just say that it was a good decision, and for as long as I can remember, I always knew it was for the best.

After a while, he started trying to come in contact with us more regularly. I vividly remember him calling to talk to me, and I was unbelievably anxious because I did not know how to react or even how to talk to him. I was always under the impression that you had to talk to and respect your parents, so I did. I told him I loved him, but that became increasingly more uncomfortable as well. It got to the point where he basically forced me to stay on the phone with him for hours because if I hung up he called back and left voicemails yelling at me for not answering or for hanging up on him.

For a brief period of time, he didn't call. He didn't contact me (except for brief unexpected visits which made me even more uncomfortable) and it felt so good. I, for once in my life, felt free again.

The next time I remember actually making conversation with him was my high school graduation. Honestly, I wasn't expecting him to show up. He was so absent in my life that I could not have guessed that he would show up.

I remember feeling like I was being threatened. The amount of anxiety I had during that time was unlike any other point in my life. Seeing his face was like a trigger to me, and I remembered that even though he seemed more sober than usual, I could still smell that distinct alcoholic smell on him.

I felt cornered. I wanted to be invisible in every way, and I avoided him as much as I could during that weekend. I made small talk but I didn't want to tell him anything about me. I remember some nights - between that night and now - where I legitimately cried thinking about what I would do if he ever tried to find me.

Flash forward to the present day, and I haven't talked to him - actually talked - since that day. I blocked him on social media, and I changed my phone number. My family has had interactions with him, but they were all emotionally manipulative and awful. He called my mom's family crazy and stupid, he tried to con my siblings into loving him solely because "I'm your father and you have to love me," he called me and left vaguely threatening voicemails... but every time, we've come back from it stronger.

Sometimes, an abusive parent can't or won't change. Luckily, my mom is the most supportive woman you could ever meet, and having her raise me made me strong enough to stand up for myself when I am being treated poorly.

I know I'm lucky that I have the option to not talk to my father. But I also want people who are similar situations to know that you do not owe someone respect unless they show you the same respect. Even if it is your parents.

Of course, I do not mean that if your parents yell at you that you should not listen. Your parents discipline you because they love you. But if your parent cares about how they're getting drunk today more than they care about you, you do not owe them your love and respect. If they do not try to change their behaviors no matter how much their doctors, family, and friends ask them to, you do not owe them sympathy for their self-caused problems. If your parent manipulates you physically or emotionally, you do not have to believe or follow them.

You do not owe abusers your loyalty.

When your abuser is someone you live with - someone that is supposed to care about you - you feel like you have to respect them. If you are in danger if you don't respect their wishes, I understand why you might not feel comfortable breaking ties. But when you finally break free from their ties, when you don't have to live at home anymore, you don't owe them.

I don't owe my dad, no matter how much he thinks I do. Just because he contributed to my birth does not mean he was ever really my father. I don't, nor will I ever, give him my love.

I hope that anyone out there in this situation breaks free from their abuser and realizes that they, too, deserve to be loved, and not chained down.