"Family, for me, is not a bedrock. It’s the hole I’ve crawled out.
When I see Facebook friends in wedding gowns, or cradling their
newborns, I don’t feel wistful; there’s no twinge of envy — only the
breathless pain of a knife driven deep and twisted hard. I imagine it’s
the same pain my father felt when the woman he’d been dating for six
months told him, over dinner, that she was pregnant.
His cohort of
men was raised to believe that doing “the right thing” meant knuckling
under and buying a ring. They were taught that if they put food on the
table, they’d never have to swallow their anger. Providing was enough,
until it wasn’t. And it never is. My father wanted a life bigger than
the yard he mowed. He made us pay for everything our presence cheated
him of." (Salon)
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