Seven.

This post will come as a surprise to most of you. Heck, it'll be a surprise for ME, given I ACTUALLY post it. I don't normally do things like this, but I felt like it was time to share a bit of my story with my world... I understand I may receive criticism following the posting of this. It's meant to empower, not condemn or libel (especially on account of its truth.) It's definitely not my whole story, and there are several chunks missing (for a little more see my Father's Day post from 2 years ago.) Anyway, here goes nothing...


Seven.
That might not seem like a big number, but when you consider it's the equivalent of 2,557 days, it doesn't seem so small.
2,557 days.
7 years ago today, my life changed in a way not many people even understand. Even I don't always understand it. Let me back up a little bit...

My parents have been divorced since I was eight. More than half my life, this is my normal. My parents had a parenting plan, and in it, every summer, I would spend every other week with my dad. The summer I turned 13, camp happened to fall on my mom's week, so I got to go, but the last full day was a Friday - trade-off day. That meant I had to leave camp a day early so my dad could pick me up at my mom's house. Coincidentally, I got sick that day. My mom came to take me home, and shortly thereafter, I called my dad to tell him I wanted to stay with my mom and rest. My dad wasn't a fan of that idea, and fearing what would happen to me otherwise, I laid down on my mom's couch and refused to move when he came to pick us up.

Now, my history with my dad has always been, shall I say, rocky.

My decision to legal action. After taking my mom to court, the judge declared that I could either resume visitation or go to parent/child counseling with my dad on the stipulation that he would choose the counselor. There was a reason I had left, so I wasn't just going to go back. I chose the latter route. I wanted a say in my life where no one had heard me before, and this was a solution... so I thought.

For years, I had always felt like I had made a mistake, because what was to come was nothing short of traumatizing and painful. But, in all actuality, it was the better of the two decisions. You see, if I had chosen to give in and simply return things back to how they were, I would not be where I am today. Yes, I struggle daily with my past, but I've also been more successful and happier than I ever could have been. Victory is WON - not handed over.

After the counselor was chosen, we spent three months every Thursday morning together for an hour in that office. Being 13 years old and having to defend yourself against not just one, but two adults - and both were supposed to be protecting you - you learn to become strong and suppress emotions quite readily. At the end of that three month period, the counselor told me I should resume visitation and "ease" back into it. Little was I aware that "ease" meant going back to how things were right away. Two months later, my dad and I hit another road block. I was over it by the next week. He, apparently, wasn't. The day my older sister turned 16 (7 years ago today, for those keeping track), my mother was with her at the DMV for her written driving test. What would be my last conversation with my dad went like this:
"Rachel, do you have your house keys?"
"No..."
"Okay... (upon arriving at the DMV) Rachel, grab your stuff. Everyone else, stay here."

Not really a conversation, but I like to hold onto it as such.
He walked me in and had me sit down next to my mother. He told her I could not go back with him "until the air is cleared." Because I was supposed to know what that meant? It wasn't until a few WEEKS later that the parent/child counselor called my mother and I in to explain what had initiated my abandonment. I could only sit there listening to the things I was being accused of. The air didn't need to be cleared from my end.

I've reached out and asked for forgiveness, invited him to events and hoped and prayed that one day, he might do the same. But in the last seven years, the favor hasn't been returned. In the last seven years, I've had to re-learn my worth. And I'm still learning. The scars will forever remain and make me who I am, but the wounds are being healed. Slowly, but surely. I am worth it and have to remind myself every day. Even if it takes me another 2,557 days...