At the same time, my usual view of the world in general, and particularly of my own family, was quickly disintegrating under the pressure of my father's lies.
I learned that there is evil, vice, and hypocrisy in life.
As reported: Fakta.today
I began to perceive them not as abstract phenomena, but as real threats, as problems that could easily affect me and my loved ones.
For ten years, I pretended not to know about my father's infidelity. It took a lot of effort on my part. But even at times when I had a strong conviction that I had to tell my mother, I had doubts in my heart.
Would I be doing the right thing, and what if I ruined everything, and they hated me? On the other hand, the impact of my grandparents' upbringing, who instilled in me from birth that I should always speak the truth, no matter how bitter it was. That is what poisoned my childhood and youth.
And it all started when I went to the cinema with friends in 8th grade. It happened that we arrived a little early for the show. We decided to visit the café in the same building as the cinema and have ice cream. At a nearby table, I saw my father with a young, beautiful lady. They hugged and kissed.
My father didn't notice me. When we entered the auditorium, I saw my father and the woman again. They sat four rows from us. Throughout the show, I watched them and hid behind the backs of the seats. Then I had a real shock. I cried every night, but I never told anyone my secret.
Then I found unequivocal love letters, gifts (lipsticks, perfumes, earrings, etc.) in my father's coat pockets that were clearly not intended for my mother. Over the course of ten years, I saw my father several times with different young women.
Now I fully realize that what prevented me from telling my mother about my father's many intrigues and affairs was my fear for the integrity of the family.
Even as a little girl, I subconsciously understood that revealing this fact would most likely lead to the separation of my parents and the breakdown of the family. That was the last thing I wanted.
I was also haunted by the fear that I didn't trust my mother. If she knew that I had kept silent for so long, she might think that I was deliberately covering up for my father. As a result, she might not love me anymore or think that I was not honest. Sometimes I felt like my mother was guessing about my father's infidelity. The thought comforted me for a moment.
I convinced myself that if my mother knew everything and kept silent, it was the right thing to do. With this conclusion, it was as if I had partially relieved myself of responsibility for the situation.
But the conflicting behavior of my parents and certain moral values (never lying) in my mind seriously disturbed me, and I felt a psychological dissonance.
When I grew up and got married, I could never tell my mother that I knew about my father's affairs since I was 10 years old. I couldn't even find the strength to talk about it. The unbearable, long-lasting situation that weighed me down morally resolved itself.
One summer day, my father announced that he had a second family and wanted to divorce my mother.
On the one hand, I was bitter when I heard the news, but on the other hand, a burden was lifted from my soul: I no longer had to keep quiet, because I suffered from the "toxic" idea that his silence was a lie. Surprisingly, my mother accepted the news calmly. I still think that she guessed.
As we wrote earlier: "Requested that his appendix be returned to its place. Asked the doctors to drive the mermaids out of the blanket": what people say under anaesthesia
