Going to sound weird but going to one of my childhood friend’s house
He had a loving family where everyone was happy and helped each other. They communicated with each other happily about things that interested them. They were unafraid to share what was on their minds and what they were passionate about. They asked each other to do things without threatening or screaming. When they did have disagreements they talked them out. They’d say, “I love you,” without a hint of pain or irony.
It was jarring. It threw me off. I went over to his place a lot (like literally almost every day for the time were friends) and it wasn’t until I had been going to his place for a few weeks did it dawn on me that I had never seen his parents argue.
And honestly one of the most eye opening experiences from when I was young about how a family is supposed to function.
I guess you could say it was culture shock because my relatives operated on a culture of fear, hatred, and a lack of love. The phrase, “You have to love me, I’m family,” was uttered entirely too many times. Violence and the threat of violence was the only motivator my relatives used.
I was friends with that guy for 3 years. I’ll never forget his parents telling me that they saw me as family. I’d say those years did more good for shaping who I am today than all the years I spent with my relatives. I look back fondly on the time I spent with them. I wish it didn’t end the way it did though.
Warning: This story is kinda hard to read as it details one of the shittiest moments of my life that ended up being the catalyst for years more of a shitty life. I have gotten back on my feet since but that wasn’t until almost a decade after the fact.
My home life was falling apart around that time and eventually hit the point where we knew we were going to be homeless.
I asked his parents first if it would be ok if I stayed with them while I finished highschool and tried to get on my feet and they said it would be fine. I asked his parents first so he wouldn’t have to be put in a position of having to tell me that I couldn’t stay with them.
I then asked him if he was ok with it and he said that it would be cool and he just had to check with his parents. I told him I had already asked them and told him why I asked them first. He seemed surprised but understanding.
When the day finally came a couple weeks later I called them up and no one answered.
I walked to their house and no one was there.
I eventually left them a message on their answering machine saying that I tried to come by but no one was home and that I’d greatly appreciate a call back as today was the day we had discussed.
I walked to the library to hang out there that afternoon. And to sleep on the bench behind their building that night.
I couch surfed for a couple weeks with acquaintances and was reaching out to other people I knew hoping someone would let me stay with them for awhile and no one would or could.
Eventually he called me and I knew I was on speaker phone and he accused me of stealing from them. I told him that I’d never steel from them as the were more family to me than my actual relatives. He didn’t listen and said that that’s why they hadn’t reached out as they were trying to figure out everything that I had stolen. His parents then said that they were disappointed in me and that they never wanted to see me again.
I ended up being homeless for 8 years after that as no one I knew could or would help me. Not even my relatives would help me.
He was my best friend for 3 years, and his lie made my life that much harder for almost a decade.
Edit: To clarify a point, I asked his parents first because if they said no I wasn’t going to ask him and put him in that position of having the guilt of having to tell me that I couldn’t stay with them. Also in the conversation with his parents I had told them that I had already asked my relatives if I could stay with them while I tried to get on my feet and they had already turned me down. My grandma even said, “God has a plan for everyone, and sometimes that plan can be hard to deal with for a time.”
Going to sound weird but going to one of my childhood friend’s house
He had a loving family where everyone was happy and helped each other. They communicated with each other happily about things that interested them. They were unafraid to share what was on their minds and what they were passionate about. They asked each other to do things without threatening or screaming. When they did have disagreements they talked them out. They’d say, “I love you,” without a hint of pain or irony.
It was jarring. It threw me off. I went over to his place a lot (like literally almost every day for the time were friends) and it wasn’t until I had been going to his place for a few weeks did it dawn on me that I had never seen his parents argue.
And honestly one of the most eye opening experiences from when I was young about how a family is supposed to function.
I guess you could say it was culture shock because my relatives operated on a culture of fear, hatred, and a lack of love. The phrase, “You have to love me, I’m family,” was uttered entirely too many times. Violence and the threat of violence was the only motivator my relatives used.
I was friends with that guy for 3 years. I’ll never forget his parents telling me that they saw me as family. I’d say those years did more good for shaping who I am today than all the years I spent with my relatives. I look back fondly on the time I spent with them. I wish it didn’t end the way it did though.
I hope they’re all doing well.
Sounds pretty similar to how my gf responded to my family. We don’t always realize how lucky (or unlucky) we are.
What happened? Sounds like you guys stopped being friends after 3 years.
Warning: This story is kinda hard to read as it details one of the shittiest moments of my life that ended up being the catalyst for years more of a shitty life. I have gotten back on my feet since but that wasn’t until almost a decade after the fact.
My home life was falling apart around that time and eventually hit the point where we knew we were going to be homeless.
I asked his parents first if it would be ok if I stayed with them while I finished highschool and tried to get on my feet and they said it would be fine. I asked his parents first so he wouldn’t have to be put in a position of having to tell me that I couldn’t stay with them.
I then asked him if he was ok with it and he said that it would be cool and he just had to check with his parents. I told him I had already asked them and told him why I asked them first. He seemed surprised but understanding.
When the day finally came a couple weeks later I called them up and no one answered.
I walked to their house and no one was there.
I eventually left them a message on their answering machine saying that I tried to come by but no one was home and that I’d greatly appreciate a call back as today was the day we had discussed.
I walked to the library to hang out there that afternoon. And to sleep on the bench behind their building that night.
I couch surfed for a couple weeks with acquaintances and was reaching out to other people I knew hoping someone would let me stay with them for awhile and no one would or could.
Eventually he called me and I knew I was on speaker phone and he accused me of stealing from them. I told him that I’d never steel from them as the were more family to me than my actual relatives. He didn’t listen and said that that’s why they hadn’t reached out as they were trying to figure out everything that I had stolen. His parents then said that they were disappointed in me and that they never wanted to see me again.
I ended up being homeless for 8 years after that as no one I knew could or would help me. Not even my relatives would help me.
He was my best friend for 3 years, and his lie made my life that much harder for almost a decade.
Edit: To clarify a point, I asked his parents first because if they said no I wasn’t going to ask him and put him in that position of having the guilt of having to tell me that I couldn’t stay with them. Also in the conversation with his parents I had told them that I had already asked my relatives if I could stay with them while I tried to get on my feet and they had already turned me down. My grandma even said, “God has a plan for everyone, and sometimes that plan can be hard to deal with for a time.”