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Young and Ignorant
The first time you experience something in your life you almost always learn something from that situation. An event that happened in my life that I learned from was when I got into my first big argument with my mother. When this argument took place, I decided to move out and go live with my father in Cato. After living with my father for two years I learned that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.
My parents were divorced. They had been divorced since I was in fifth grade. They didn’t get along at all and spent most of their time bringing each other to court over visitation of my siblings and me. The court had decided that I would spend one week with one parent and the next with the other parent because I wanted to spend equal time with both parents.
The fight all started with me getting my phone taken away. I didn’t get my phone taken away because I was in trouble. I got it taken away because my mother felt like she shouldn’t have to provide me with a phone when I visited my father. The fight had started at my cousins’ birthday party when my mom and I had gotten into it because I wanted my phone. She then started saying things that I didn’t want to hear. At the time I was dramatic and took everything way too seriously. I left the party and went back to my dad’s house and said I wanted to live with him. I explained what had happened and he said I had to tell my mom. She then brought it to court.
When I went to court I had to talk to a law guardian. The court said I could live with my father, but since I wasn’t eighteen years old I still had to go to my mother’s house since they had joint custody. The agreement said that I had to go to my mother’s house every Thursday after school until my father got out of work. I also had to go to my mom’s house every other weekend. For a while this worked, but I always dreaded going to my mothers’. She would always bring up what had happened and I wanted to forget what had happened. The fighting just got worse between my mother and I. It got to the point where I refused to go to my mothers’.
At first I loved living with my father. He didn’t really have many rules. He was also barely home. I had privacy and I was allowed to hang out with anyone I wanted to. His girlfriend at the time, and three of her four kids, lived with us. I got along with two of the three. The one was never really around. As time went on I started to dislike living with my father. Not really because of my father. Mostly just because of the girl that he was dating. My father and her spent many nights fighting. It felt like I was reliving my parents’ divorce all over again, just not as bad.
My father and his girlfriend finally broke up and he kicked his girlfriend out of the house. By this time my dad was losing the house because the girl that he was with quit her job and she was an alcoholic and was constantly using my father’s money to buy cigarettes and alcohol. I loved it when she was gone, but by this time I had made up with my mother. It took two years before I would even talk to her about what had happened.
After two years I realized that being home alone the majority of the time while my dad was working every day to pay for the things he and I needed and to pay for his house wasn’t always the best thing. My parents even started talking again. They got back together for a while so I decided to live with my mother, that way I wouldn’t be home alone all the time. I would also be able to see both of my parents whenever I wanted.
Months later my parents broke up. I slowly lost contact with my father. The only time I see him now is when he brings me money. I miss living with my father, but I don’t miss being home alone all the time. I always think about what things would be like if I stayed at my father’s house, but between him never being home and the situation with his ex-girlfriend, I learned a lot. I learned that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.
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