Content Warning: child abuse, domestic abuse

I don’t know why I remember feeling afraid of my dad. He was the life of any party with a wicked sense of humor and a fondness for sweets outmatched by no one. He was a servant-hearted firefighter until he got injured on the job, leaving him as my primary caretaker at home while my mom worked. We spent our summers at the neighborhood pool, swimming, splashing, and smiling to our heart’s content and our bellies emptied. We’d go home to have dad’s famous “peanut butter, butter, cinnamon-sugar, honey” sandwich – which was quite the mouthful for a four-year-old! 

I remember being too nervous to tell dad that I needed to go potty as we were rushing out the door for Tae-kwon-do lessons. I was anxious about his reaction to me delaying us leaving, so I stood in front of the fireplace and pooped my pants, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Apparently, poopy pants are an easy thing to notice! He smelled me as he was putting me into the car, yelled at me for pooping my pants, then took me inside to change me.

I remember my dad’s homemade chicken and dumplings. Man, was he a good cook! Every meal left me saying “Mmm Mmm MMMMMMM Mmm Mmm.” Even his adult coffees looked good as I watched the milk swirl with other ingredients. I wish I could remember, though, why I sometimes had to choose between getting a spanking or going to bed without eating dad’s delicious dinner.

I remember my first lie. When my classmates asked me why I was crying on the first day of Kindergarten, I told them it was because I missed my mom. Something inside me told me that the real reason I was crying wasn’t normal, it was shameful, and I should hide it. Earlier that morning at the breakfast table, I wish I could remember why my dad flipped me and my chair over. My chin smacked against the floor, and I started crying. He told me to go to my room before he “gave me something to cry about.”

I don’t know why I remember the biggest sense of relief as a five-year-old to learn that my parents were getting divorced and I would be living with my mom from then on.