I grew up as the middle child of five children. The way I was brought up was pretty normal, going to church every Sunday. I, along with my brother and sisters, went to a private school from pre- school through eighth grade. Going through Catholic school has made me the person I am today, and I wouldn’t change a second of it. My family was sometimes called the supposed “poster family” or referred to as “picture perfect”, but behind closed doors things were not as they seemed.


Last summer on one morning I woke up and went to work with my little sister like I did everyday. Work was pretty boring; nothing out of the ordinary happened to give me the impression my life would never be the same after that night. Later that day I worked out of a little bit, played some basketball, and then just hung out around the house for awhile. The thing is that I can remember exactly everything I did that day down to the minute. My parents both work during the summer so they don’t get home till around four or five. This evening my brother, three sisters and I happen to all be home. I thought this was odd because during the summer rarely everyone was home for dinner, but I thought nothing more of it.


Dinner was as normal talking, laughing, and occasionally something was being spilled. But after dinner when my mom told us we all needed to have a family talk, I knew something was up. We are not the type of family who has meetings once a week in fact, we might only have one maybe once a year at the most. I took a seat with my eldest sister close by, and then it all began. First of all I want to let you know that I don’t cry for any reason when I do it’s something serious like this was. My mom proceeded to tell us that she and my father are separated and have been for awhile now. The first thought that came to mind was how did this happen? How had I not noticed? Can I fix this? Then when they told us that he will be eventually moving out I lost it. I started crying and denying that it was really happening. How could this have happened to my family? I know it happens in other homes but not mine! For a brief moment my world was crushed.

At first I didn’t want anyone to know about it, not even close friends. I kept it all inside. But gradually I began accepting it through talking with my sisters and friends when ever it was necessary. Although these days I’m accepting and handling it quite well, I still struggle from time to time. I find it is better to talk about it more than anything with my siblings or close friends. I have learned to live with what I have. Everything happens for a reason whether good or bad. Lastly, there is always someone there who loves you no matter what you’re dealing with.