When I was born, my father left us. My mum raised me on her own. Looking back, I cant honestly say she was much of a parent. For as long as I can remember, she was either under the influence, disappearing for days on end, or bringing home her so-called friends.
Until I turned about ten, I truly believed it was normal for kids to grow up like that.
When I was in secondary school, I started working odd jobs. I wanted something to eat, and there were all sorts of things to do around the village. I got paid a bit, or sometimes just given food for my efforts.
After school, I tried to find a decent job, but a child from a poor family, with no connections or money to speak of… I just had to get by however I could. Just like Mum before me.
I never really knew where she got her money from. Whatever scraps I managed to earn, I used to buy food. She must have liked it that way, because she never seemed interested in changing a thing.
Then, about three years ago, a man started coming to my mums house more and more often.
He looked down on his luck, but not quite the sort youd call a proper drunk. For the most part, he was polite to me, though usually he just didnt acknowledge me at all. I found myself hoping he might have a good influence on Mum maybe we could start fresh somewhere and leave this bleak life behind.
My hopes actually came true. After a few months of seeing each other nearly every day, he moved in with us. I never felt any hostility from him, but I always sensed he went out of his way not to notice me. The real trouble hit me out of the blue.
After about half a year of living together, I came home late one day. I brought back the pounds Id worked so hard to earn, thinking maybe it might cheer up Mum a bitshed seemed out of sorts lately.
But the moment I stepped inside, she started shouting that I wasnt welcome there anymore and that I needed to leave at once. At first, I was confused. I hadnt done anything to deserve this from her. Still, there was no point trying to reason with her in that state. I stayed with a mate that night, hoping she would calm down after a day or two, as she often did.
But noshe kicked me out again the very next day. Turned out, the man had disliked me from the start and persuaded Mum to get rid of me. And shed agreed.
So I found myself homeless at the age of 21. Ive been relying on the kindness of friendsthankfully, theyve taken me in as family. I earn a living the best way I can, just as before.
So when I see people complain about children not respecting their parents, I want to saysometimes, people have good reasons for feeling that way. Not every parent deserves that respect, and sometimes a persons real family are the people who stand by you when lifes at its toughest.
