When I was in the third grade, my parents sat my brother and I down and announced that they were getting a divorce. Most children would have been shocked or devastated by the news, but I wasn 't; I was actually excited. Sadly, I was unaware of the trials and tribulations a divorce entails, especially one that last 8 years.
When I was growing up, I never truly witnessed a “functional” marriage like that of one you might see in movie. I never saw my parents hug, kiss, hold hands, or say “I love you” to one another.
However, I do not want to give the impression that my parents did not provide an exceptional upbringing for me and my brother. We had home cooked meals every night, my father read to me before bed when he was home, and we celebrated every holiday with the whole family at our house. Up until the thick of the divorce, I would say I lived a privileged and loving life style.
That being said, I pointed out the dysfunctionality of my parents marriage prior to the divorce because it explains my
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In 7th grade, my attitude was terrible. I would talk back to teachers, yell at other students and not do my homework. My mother tried to get my brother and I to go to therapy but it never actually happened. My similarities to Hamlet 's emotions occured in middle school when I saw my father 's true colors. My mother had recently lost her job and consequently it became tight financially. Rather than trying to help, my father made things worse. Since technically he still was an owner of our house but did not live there anymore, he had control of the utilities and bills. He would cut off our electricity and heat knowing my mother could not afford to turn it back on. This is when I began to pick sides. Similar to Antigone in the sense that she had to choose between following the state, Creon 's rules, and obeying the gods; I had to choose whether to align myself with my mother or