THE NARRATIVE ARC
Three Weeks After Getting Married, I Wanted to Move Out
Being stuck in the middle sucks
Growing up, I was stuck in the middle of divorced parents. My mom and Dad expressed their frustrations with one another to me. I didn’t want to take sides. They were my parents, and I loved them both.
I dreaded holidays and special occasions. If I spent Christmas morning at Dad’s, Mom was upset. If I celebrated my birthday at Mom’s, Dad was upset. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone, yet there was no solution to make everyone happy.
I felt like a rag doll with Mom and Dad tugging on each arm while I was ready to come apart at the seams.
By the time I turned 18, I was like a tired horse coming around the bend in a race that lasted for 11 years. The finish line was near, but I still had tough choices. Mom moved me into my dorm and my dad and stepmom helped coordinate my wedding since they paid for the reception.
History repeats itself
I got married in my late forties, and neither my husband nor I had children.
When Dad walked me down the aisle to where my husband stood, I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d no longer be the knot on the rope in the tug-of-war between my parents. It was…
