Have you ever felt so torn up inside that the words you’re trying to express can’t even find space in your brain to be created? Have you ever felt like you were being pulled in two COMPLETELY opposite directions, unable to find any type of balance between the two?

That’s what being the child of divorced parents feels like, to me at least.

Some divorces end with mutual agreements, but the understanding that at one point, each of the sides loved the other. These typically result in both sides continuing to be cordial with one another, and remaining civil, especially if children are involved.

However, to me, the worst type of divorce is the type where both sides are filled with so much rage and anger, the most logical course of action is for neither side to speak to each other. And yes, that does seem smart. It seems smart that rather than argue every time words are spoken, the chances are just broken off by breaking off any connection at all. But, sometimes things sound smarter than they actually are. Because when you stick your shovel into the ground and get right beneath the topsoil, you uncover a whirlwind of problems. And sometimes, these problems come up when you’re least expecting it.

Take this example; it was my high school graduation day. I was over the moon excited and had been waiting for this moment forever. However, when I was sitting among my friends and classmates, listening to all the speeches being made, part of me couldn’t stop thinking about if my parents were sitting together, and if not, how my dad would tell me how lonely he was after. A huge part of me was trying to figure out who I should see first when graduation ended. Did I try to find my mom and the fanbase of her friends she brought, or did I go to my dad first, much to my mom’s dismay?

And I can’t forget all the times where weekends rolled around, and my dad would tell me how excited he was that I was finally home to keep him company and that we could watch some TV or run errands. But, alas, my mom would ask me what I was up to and if I wanted to spend the day with her. How was I supposed to be in two places at once? I would beat myself up about what the right thing to do was when no right answer ever existed.

And that’s the hardest part.

Right answers don’t exist when you’re forced to pick a side. Because inevitably, sides will be picked. If I had decided to ditch my dad to superfluously shop with my mom, I was choosing her side. But if I left her alone and kept my dad company, it was his side. Small things like these continue to pop up all the time.

And while there are never any right answers, picking the right answer for myself gets a bit easier as time continues to move on.