As with yesterday, if this is too painful to answer, ignore it. Go back and write a haiku or scribble a few furious words about this prompt.
But if you fancy digging in, go for it.
My dad is a brilliant mechanic and engineer. Also a wonderful technical artist, but he never draws anymore. He would drop everything and move mountains to help me. He’s been amazing with our house renovations.
His love language is practical help and advice.
He’s frustrating and funny and embarrassing and loving. And I wish I knew more about him.
We disagree on a bunch of stuff and we clashed horribly when I was a teenager. I left home aged 17 because it was too hard to be there.
(Not in a severing of relationships way, in an “I’m going out on my own” way. We didn’t fall out.)
Now I’m older, I understand why. Neurodivergencies are fun for all the family!
As with my mum, I was angry at him for so long for not remaining the dad I had when I was a small child. It took a long time for me to grow up and realise he’s a human in his own right, flawed and complex and with his own baggage.
Set a timer and have a go yourself. I’ll continue this in private because it’s super useful.
For now, though: I am so lucky. I know not everyone has a good relationship with their parents. Some people suffer horribly, and I’m so sorry for that.
I am grateful and thankful for the love in my family.
p.s. Connect with me on Instagram and share your experience with the community. Share your writing if you want to—we'd love to read it! Tag @tinybeetlesteps and follow the hashtags #moxieAPRIL and #tinybeetlesteps
Notes in the Margin
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