Life Parenting

Wednesday 14 November 2018

What I'm Really Thinking... dad hates my friends

My dad hasn't a clue who I am
My dad hasn't a clue who I am

When I turned 15 last month, I thought things might get a little bit better at home. I thought maybe they'd ease off on me and maybe I'd get more freedom to do stuff. But nothing has changed. My parents are still freaks who are just out to ruin my life.

All they ever do is moan at me about what I do and where I go. They hate my friends. There are two girls that I am really close to. We've been friends since first year. But their big problem is with our other friend, who is a guy in fifth year. When my dad realised that he was hanging out with us he properly freaked.

"He's too old to be your friend. What's he doing hanging out with young girls?" That's how it started, but by the end he had basically called my friend a paedophile. He's convinced my friend is only hanging out with us so that he can have sex with us. Like what kind of planet is my dad on? Who does he even think I am that I'd do that? He must think so low of me.

He just goes on about how "they're all just drinking and smoking weed." He knows nothing about us and yet he makes all these assumptions.

If I hear him say "I was a teenager once. I know what lads want. I know what he's thinking", one more time I may actually scream in his face. My friend is nothing like my dad. My dad treats me like I'm five, not 15.

My friend respects me. He's just a friend who likes to have a laugh, just like us. He doesn't even talk to his dad anymore or visit him. His parents are separated and his dad threw him out one weekend after a big fight, so he just lives with his mam all the time. He understands where I'm coming from, with my dad, because of that. There was one time we were out, just hanging around, having a laugh. I was supposed to be back in at 8pm. Seriously. 8pm. Who is even going to be going home at 8pm? But that's what my dad insisted. I didn't want to be back in at 8pm, and I knew my dad would just be thick. So, once 8 o'clock passed I reckoned "what's the point? Why go home just to be given out to?".

Then my dad turned up in the car. It was probably about 10 o'clock by then. He pulled up right beside me and just roared at me "Get in the car, now!" I was so embarrassed. I just froze. I couldn't actually believe he was there. It was mortifying. He said it again and I just ran in the opposite direction. We all did. Now you can see why my dad is such a freak.

They've tried to stop me even going out. But that doesn't work. I said to him one time, "what are you going to do, lock me up?. I thought he'd hit me then. He was so furious. Mam managed to put her hand on his arm. He got thick with her then. Saying she was just "colluding" with me, whatever that means. I hate him sometimes. He thinks he's always right. He thinks he knows my friends better than I do.

He knows nothing.

He certainly doesn't know me. And I think he doesn't even care. All he cares about is "how do you think this looks to other people, with you out until all hours just loitering with delinquents and druggies?" Why does he think I'd make such bad choices about who I'd pick as friends? Anyway, I'm always going to pick them over him. That's for sure.

As imagined by David Coleman

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