Was I ever enough?

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Michelle

TW. light mention of physical abuse

As I lay on the couch of my parents' apartment, I started wondering, was I ever enough for them?

To my mother, I'm her perfect daughter. But to my father, I'm just a disappointment.

My father had never been the caring type, but he could be in public to convince people that he was the man with the perfect life. To others, my life was perfect. My father is a Rich French businessman who lives in Monaco with his Stunning Italian wife, who also happens to be from a wealthy family of bankers.

 My father is a Rich French businessman who lives in Monaco with his Stunning Italian wife, who also happens to be from a wealthy family of bankers

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What people don't know is that my life isn't perfect, It never was. My father was Abusive. Verbally, mentally, and physically. I don't think that anyone with a perfect life has seen their father hit their mother over 15 times in their life, or been slapped so hard as a 6-year-old because they talked "too much" about their first day at school.

All those memories rushed to my mind again, and I started inhaling as I closed my eyes. "acknowledge these memories, but never let them control you" Claudia said. Claudia is my rescuer, or more professionally my therapist.

"Linda, it's 7:30, start setting the table", my mom said to the housekeeper. Growing up, we had a strict eating schedule. Breakfast at 7:30 AM, Lunch at 4:00 PM, and Dinner at 8:00 PM, and obviously my father enforced this schedule. Even now, at the age of 25, I still go by this schedule for some reason.

I got up and walked to the balcony to get some fresh air, My parents' apartment looked down on Monte Carlo, my hometown. I remember that whenever my father got angry, I would come to sit here, The hustle and the bustle of the city somewhat drowned out my father's shouts and my mother's screams for help, making me feel a temporary sense of safety.

There is only one thing that my father is proud of, or at least liked about me, which is Charles. My father forbade me from bringing anyone to our house without permission, but Charles was the only one who could visit anytime. I met Charles at a very young age because our mothers were friends. We grew up together and went to the same schools, I considered him and his brothers my brothers because unfortunately, I don't have any siblings.

It's been a while since I've seen Charles though, with our busy schedules it's hard for us to meet up frequently, but my birthday is in 2 days so we're going to meet up then.

My mom's voice calling me to dinner cut my train of thought. Fuck, now I have to see my dad.

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