Tamara Afifi is a Professor in the Department of Communication at UCSB. Most of her research focuses on how family members cope communicatively with various ...
My parents always fought, always threw hateful words at each other. For 16 years, I thought that was normal. I thought that when I found my forever in someone, we would be the same as them. That fights would be filled with tears and end when the man's fist went through the wall. I felt so alone and confused, but I had a little brother looking to me. For him, I kept a smile on my face. For him, we ran away to the playground during a fight my parents were having. For him, I was grounded for weeks for doing said act of running away with him. When my mom told me they were getting a divorce, I broke. I honestly didn't know that divorce was an option. It had been 16 years, after all. I blamed myself."I shouldn't have run away, I shouldn't have cried, I shouldn't have...I shouldn't have..." Then I found out that my mom was pregnant. Another little person to protect from the tears, from the words, from the hurt. Again, I put on my mask. I smile when others ask how I'm handling it. I laugh when they say, "It's for the best." When holidays come around, I wear my mask and say thanks when I'm given a gift. Usually a gift that shows exactly how little my own parents know about me. I am thankful, and grateful that they try, but when a nerdy/sports loving tom-boy is given a make-up kit by their dad's new girl friend...it's hard not to throw it. It's hard not to cry and ask why your dad didn't tell them something about you. Yet, because of that mask, that smile, and that false acceptance, the next year she gives you more make-up, scented lotions, things you will never use...and you just take it and shut down a little more. They don't seem to care that the gift from the previous year still sits unopened on your dresser...they don't try to get to know you, because all they see is that mask.
Just know, children of divorced parents, you are not alone. You don't have to wear a mask. At age 25 I am finally taking mine off.
