Page 63 of My Best Friend's Dad

I’ve let my parents have a pass on this since the dawn of fucking time because I know they don’t mean it. I’ve always told myself the same thing. They love me. They care about me. They want what’s best for me.

But is love constantly putting someone down? Making them feel ashamed, belittled, and invalidated? Is love covering up wounds until they scar over, over and over and over again?

“I do have a history of making bad decisions,” I state with more calm than should be possible, given the way the corn I just ate is churning in my belly. Maybe I should have followed my mom’s example and had this conversation on an empty stomach, but I spent hours cooking, so just…nope. “I have a history of not coming to you first because I feel like you don’t really care, and even if you do, you want to just make me a mini copy of you.” Her lips part to defend herself, but I steam on, or I’m not going to be steaming at all. “I’ve always been a great disappointment to you both, and the rest of the time, I haven’t been seen. I’m doingmethe best way I know how, and that’s constantly evolving with every single thing I learn. Yes, it’s messy, and I know you hate that, but I’m not you. I’m never going to be you. I’m my ownperson, and I think you both need to realize that and make your peace with it. If you can’t love me as I am, then I’m not really sure what to even say.”

I didn’t mean to go that far.

It’s eerily silent.

Even the happy flamingos on the wall suddenly look distinctly uncomfortable, like they want to take flight and get the heck out of here.

I’ve never seen my parents look so uncomfortable.

They share a look, a whole silent conversation passing between them.

Dad breaks first. “You’re not invisible. We see you.” At least he manages not to sound insincere.

“I know you do. I just sometimes feel that you don’t.” I drop my eyes to my folded hands. “Almost always.”

“No!” Mom whispers, so horrified that my gaze shoots back up. “No! I never…we never…that’s the last thing we want you to feel. We see you, and we love you. We’ve just always wanted what was best for you.”

“I know. But the amount of pressure you’ve put on me to be the best version of both of you versus the best version of who I am is insane. I can’t live up to that.”

Mom blinks quickly. I’ve never seen her even borderline close to tears before, and the shock reverberates through me like stubbing your toe judders all the way up your leg. “We were just trying to keep you safe. You’re our only child. I can see you’ve felt pressured, but we want to protect you. We know what’s out there in the world. We want to see you succeed, not be hurt repeatedly or have to struggle because you’re not financially secure or because you’re with someone who doesn’t value your worth.”

Even now, at the height of struggling to control her emotions, she’s so elegant and eloquent. Dad nods, agreeing silently but genuinely.

“I understand.” That’s true. I do. “I think we just need to learn how to talk to each other. It’s half my fault for never saying anything before. I’ve just taken it and internalized it and either tried to do better or just moved on. I don’t mean to say you’ve never been supportive. I know you didn’t want me to be an event planner or work in the hospitality industry, but you still paid for my school. You didn’t want me to get a music degree, not because you didn’t think I was talented, but because you didn’t want me to struggle. You worried I wouldn’t be able to own my own home, so you helped me find this place, and you made sure I had the money for a down payment.

“You’re both busy, both with demanding careers, but you made sure I went to a great daycare, that I had friends growing up, and was involved with school and community, even if you couldn’t be because you didn’t have the time. I shouldn’t say that I’ve been invisible to you. I just sometimes feel you don’t see what I truly want or that it doesn’t matter. I know you’re both busy, and you’re both trying your best, but at the same time, I did feel lonely as a kid, and I still do. That’s all contradictory, I know.” I hang my head despite wanting to get this out and stand strong. “I don’t know. It’s hard to try to voice everything I’m thinking and feeling.”

Dad rises immediately. He rounds the table, bends down, and takes my hands. He doesn’t say anything, but he does pull me into his arms.

Mom joins in, hugging me right where I’m sitting. She wraps me up from behind while my dad holds me from the front. This is crazy because they are not huggy people.

I take a chance and spill the rest. It’s easier to deliver news I know they won’t like while they’re hugging me, supporting me, andseeingme, all while giving me room to keep telling them what I need to tell them. “The boyfriend who offered me the job is a new boyfriend. We…uh…just decided we were going to date.I know you’re going to lose your minds, and it sounds bad, but believe me, I’ve already been down that road mentally, and so has he. He’s older. Like, way older. Hemightbe Mika’s dad.”

I glance over Dad’s head, and right now, those flamingos with their wide eyes look absolutely scandalized. Theyreallywant to escape.

“A sugar daddy?” Dad looks at me, so hopeful that this isn’t the case. He takes my hands, holding them tightly.

“No! Not a sugar daddy. When I met him, I didn’t know he was Mika’s dad. I figured it out pretty darn fast and told her about it, and she thought we’d be a good match. She’s been all for it even when we were cautious and careful. We still will be. We would never want to hurt anyone or each other. He’s a good man. Maybe I’m a weirdo for freaking liking older men, but that’s where I’m at. I swear he’s not taking advantage of me, and it’s nothing freaky for the…for the sake of being freaky.”Wow. I was doing okay up until the end.

Mom caresses my hair. She hasn’t done that ever, not unless she was combing it back to rake it into a tight ponytail or scrape it into a tidy bun for my piano recitals. “We’re bad communicators. All of us. We never meant to hurt you. We’ll work on it.”

“We don’t want you to feel alone,” Dad agrees. “You’re our daughter, and we love you so much. We’ll find ways to make that clear.”

I feel bad that I’m this surprised at my parents listening to me, hugging me, and supporting me. I know a lot of families don’t do this. I had a great childhood compared to what some kids go through. I know how lucky I am, and I want to keep that in mind. I know my parents don’t mean to be insensitive. They’re flawed people, just like me, and they always have been. Moms and dads don’t have all the answers. But I never expected this. As I said, itwas my fault for not being willing or able to talk about it before now.

I didn’t want to hold a grudge or keep this festering. That was the point of talking tonight.

“I know,” I whisper. “I love you guys. And we’ll be okay. You can worry because you’re my parents, and it’s natural, but don’t worry about this. We’ll figure it out.”

“I’m just so glad you still have fucks left to give.” Dad doesn’t swear.Ever. I look at him with a whole different set of eyes. “If you didn’t care, that would be terrible. This wouldn’t be fixable then.”

“I have…umm…cares to give,” I tell him, my eyes stinging. “So many cares.”

“I’m sorry that I hate your wallpaper,” Mom sniffs.