dilemmas of living with unhappily united parents

Everybody knows about the hardships of living with divorced parents. Two birthdays, two christmases, and two homes. But living with parents who should be divorced but don't is the long tribulation of what divorced parents’ kids have gone through. It's like one of those trailers that spoils the whole movie. You already know how the movie ends.

What is even worse is being a kid who already chose a side. No matter the argument, you already know who the “right choice” is while deep down knowing who is right. However, some kids also choose a side by looking at the “win chart.” Whoever has the highest rate of victories in altercations also wins the child’s side. Personally, I use the second technique. 

While writing this column, I decided to seek inspiration about the difficulties of living with parents who should be divorced but aren’t. When I looked at the results of my research, I was deeply stunned. Not one article discusses the effects of unhappy marriages on children. I do not want to sound egocentric or attention-seeking, but I believe our issue is highly neglected. For most adults, it is “best for the kids” to stay in an unhappy marriage. There should be more cognition about how absurd this is.

I have this theory that those parents who “stay for the kids” are just cowardly and insecure people hiding under the “devoted” mask. They won’t admit the fact that they failed in their marriage or are just way too lazy to intrude on their comfort. What they don’t see is how they mess up more than their marriage. 

Before finishing my first article, I would like to share a piece of what I wrote after experiencing a major milestone in living with unhappily united parents. I believe there isn’t any better final than sharing my true feelings at that moment, which is why I wrote this article. 

“19th of june

Perhaps as we grow up, tears run dry and start to lose their meaning. There were no traces left of the tears I had shed as a child. I was staring at that dark, lightless road. Nothing was going through my mind. I didn’t care anymore. It has become routine for me. But there was also a bit of joy inside me. The moment I had been waiting for all these years had finally arrived.

I also thought of those other happy families. I was so envious of them. They would never hear the sounds of fighting on an ordinary summer evening and then have to pack their bags minutes later. They would never be caught between their mother and father. And most importantly, they would never have to say ‘I don’t want you’ to either their mother or father. Also, when I walk around the city, I get sore. I wonder how everyone can continue with their lives while I am so sad and broken, struggling to hold back my tears. I don’t think the world revolves around me; I just envy them.

These routines start in infancy. Those moments aren’t remembered, but first, the baby bottles fly through the air. Then the holidays get ruined, pillows get wet at night, and headphones are worn to drown out the noise. You hear your mother’s ring hitting the tray from the next room and lose breath control. Then that ring goes back on. Then it comes off again. Your tears and breath can not catch up every time it comes off. But then, suddenly, those tears stop. You no longer care because, in your mind, that ring is already in the trash.

Maybe I am too dramatic, I don't know. But sometimes, writing like this is comforting. I’d rather spill my tears onto paper than let them fall to the ground.”