I have read and used psychology throughout my life. Next month I begin my journey towards my Ph.D. in Psychology. Unfortunately, people won’t take me seriously without that paper that says, Desiree Sharon Haros, is certifiably able to say, “blah, blah, blah.” Listen to her because she has a Ph.D.
I have already joined the ranks of the overeducated with a Master’s in English and Creative Writing. I’m a better writer because of that degree. I wouldn’t have done it any other way.
I should have a Ph.D. in Ultra Running and Living if you know what I mean. This is the part where my husband comes in and uses his best Will Smith impression of, “You know what I’m sayin’.”
People hate/love relationships with honesty. When my husband is being honest, I tell him he needs to be less forthcoming. He replies, “So I can’t be honest.” He throws his hands up in the air (not to show that he just doesn’t care) but says, “I can’t win for losing.” He says something to that effect and I instantly know where that comes from. His father sees the glass as half empty.
Anthony was told he couldn’t show sensitivity, because that would make him appear weak. Instead, he’s now having to work through feeling his feelings rather than bottle it all up inside.
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My mom bottled her anger up for years when she was with my stepfather, who for all intents and purposes is the person I still call dad.
My dad passed away in December 2019 and I’m just beginning to unpack it all.
Unfortunately, because of a financial loss to the tune of $60K, my dad and I stopped talking. My mother kept the lines of communication open.
During one conversation with my mother, my father grabbed the phone and yelled into the receiver, “Where the hell is our money?” I told him that we didn’t have it. As far as I knew, we didn’t have anything near the amount he wanted…and he wanted to be paid back in full.
He couldn’t understand how a person could lose thousands of dollars. It was 2009, the economy had crashed and the real estate bubble exploded.
“Yes!” Money cannot replace a life.
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Throughout my childhood and as an adult, I thought he was an arsehole. Strangers, family friends, and even my friends saw a side of him that wasn’t always apparent to me. When he let his guard down, he acted in childlike wonderment when it came to Halloween candy distribution, Christmas lights, taffy, Disneyland, and car shows.
What I didn’t understand was that he was the best dad he could be for me because of his life experience. He and I didn’t understand what it meant to love unconditionally.
I never got the chance to tell him I loved him.
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There were times throughout my life he was extremely mean to people, so much so he could make cashiers and waitresses cry. I call it the Bonaparte/ Short man Syndrome, but what it really was about, went back to abandonment issues he experienced from not having his mother in his life from the beginning of his life. get. He was born on January 27, 1942, in Lancaster, NY.
He lived in two different foster homes. One of them was in Machias, NY, another small town outside of Ashford, not too far away from West Valley.
When he was 16 years old he found out where she lived and came knocking on her door. It was a shock to his mother. Her husband and two young sons soon found out she had a baby at 14 years of age.
He didn’t stay long. He thought she was overprotective and made his way to the West Coast. The twists and turns don’t end there.
Join me next week, when I talk about my sister, Penny. Bet you didn’t know I had a sister.
Forgive your loved ones and tell them you love them. Do not let the pettiness of material things thwart familial relationships.
Disclaimer: I understand some relationships are toxic, as my husband likes to say, “Babe, be the bigger person.” Tell them you love them anyway. Smother them with kindness…from a distance and pray for them always.