A family was supposed to be people who would love you unconditionally, accept you for who you are, never judge you and always want the best for you. They always forgave you for your wrongdoings and tried to improve themselves for you. This had been my naive belief growing up, but it was challenged when I discovered my parents’ affairs.
When two people become bored with each other, they start to forget what had united them in the first place; my mother was the first to forget. Her dissatisfying marriage bore the fruit toof an affair that resulted in my father avenging his masculinity through more cheating. Their displays of domination over the household became tiresome as quickly as it became a nuisance. The senseless arguing became the music of our home, my. My father became another one of my mother’s pillows on the living room couch, and my siblings and I transformed into useless decorations that no one cared about. Misery is a disease that spreads swiftly, but no one takes notice until they have been infected.
The day I discovered about their infidelities was the day I realized that the people I loved most were capable of breaking my heart. My parents cracked the image I had held forof a normal family, and I quickly abandoned my beliefs by going against them. The pain and resentment I had allowedcaused me to become bitter and judge my parents for their transgressions. Although cheating is never justified, I had assumed that it was unforgivable. What I hadn’t realized yet was that forgiveness was not a merciful act that only saints can accomplish, but a process that all people must execute in order to move on and grow.