© Copyright 2018 Giselle Melendres - Mad Sounds Magazine

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Between Homes

January 14, 2017

Photo by Brandon Sapp featuring Drumaq for Mad Sounds Magazine Issue 20

 

Moving between homes has always been a normal thing for me. Mom’s on the weekends, dad’s during the week. My parents separated when I was younger than two-years-old, so the back and forth driving and twice as many Christmas gatherings has been the ordinary way of living for my siblings and me.

 

Something I haven’t grown accustomed to through the years, though, is people thinking I come from a broken home or expressing pity because my parents aren’t together anymore. Sure, bouncing between homes is difficult because it’s time consuming and you have to haul two or three bags around to carry all of your stuff, but this doesn’t mean I need sympathy or remorse. I’d even go so far to say that I am who I am because my parents are divorced. 

 

Because my parents are separated, I am more considerate of other people’s lifestyles and backgrounds. Because my parents chose to end their relationship, I understand that not every guy I date is necessarily right for me and that’s OK. Because I have two separate homes doesn’t mean I have less love; my parents love me just as much as they would if they were still together. And because I have to travel a little further to visit my other parent, I have more time to think about how thankful I am to have two parents who support me and want to be involved in my life. Because I have two homes instead of one, I have an extra safe place. 

 

Having separated parents isn’t a burden, unlike what many people may think. It has been a learning experience and a curve, and although everyone’s experience is different (for some it may be a bit more complicated), there’s no reason to be quick to judge someone who has separated parents. It’s never a reflection of the person, but rather the choices made by their parents. Choices they made for their own reasons. Not for anybody else’s.

 

My home is not broken because my parents are no longer together. My heart is not broken because my parents don’t love each other anymore. And my faith is not broken because I grew up with “less”. There are simply more pieces to the puzzle, and it takes a bit longer to put it all together, but by no means is the puzzle broken.

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