Start with a slamming car door.  A ringing doorbell. A suitcase packed near the door next to the backpack and toiletries bag for the upcoming weekend.

It was 5:45 on Friday evening and it was a dad’s weekend. From six pm on Friday to six pm on Sunday was solely dedicated to spending time with my dad.

As a child, I anticipated those all too familiar sounds. As my dad forced my soon-to-be stepmom into my life, the tingly feeling that filled my body with excitement began to slowly fade into a haze.

Instead of that slamming door representing popcorn, rocky road ice cream, and Saturday night movie nights watching The Emperor’s New Groove: it now meant forced sleepovers with future step brothers and sisters and ice cream runs being interrupted by an unexpected and definitely unwanted guest.

That summer, they married and that slamming car door occurred less and less as I distanced myself from the man who used to be the most important in my life. He had chosen the kind of family he wanted to have and he had made it crystal clear by not inviting me to his wedding in St. Thomas that I was not apart of that.

The family dynamic that used to provide a safety net that I craved, was now filled with holes and I was seeping through the cracks. I trudged my way through fifth grade and the summer leading up to sixth trying to make my mind wander to anywhere but my current life situation.

A half-sister, a second divorce, and years of rebuilding trust and breaking down walls, I am on solid ground and look forward to the challenges ahead of me. It took my dad seven years to hurdle over the obstacles that I had put up to protect myself from him hurting me just as he had in the glory days of his state track career. As I walk away from higher school and my adolescent drama, I will always remember the slamming car door and how it made me who I am today. Looking into her little face, I can see the lines and curves about her face. Her bright face innocent of all my struggles. My own fears and memories reflecting off of her glassed over eyes.