Tag: father

When I was 6, my dad cheated on my mom.

I will never forget my sister’s arms covering mine like a seatbelt as we watched Mom chase Dad out of the house. I didn’t understand what was going on back then and was way too young to grasp the concept of cheating. It just seemed like Mom and Dad had a fight about something.

Inevitably, that led to a divide in the family, and we pretty much lived without my dad for a few years.

There’s No Place Like Home

Dad came home when I was about 10 to 12. Although, his presence was always fleeting. I’d see him around at home on some days and then for long periods after, he would go missing again.

It didn’t feel right, but nobody said anything. Nothing about the affair (which I came to understand much later on), nothing about this unusual arrangement, or what was happening between Mom and Dad. There was no “our Dad is an idiot” uttered among my siblings, no “your Mom and Dad are separating” from the elders, nothing.

As much as I thought things were odd, I learnt not to question anything and to just accept the way things were. Over time, what is supposedly a broken family developed into a norm for me.

However, I also believe that a bad husband doesn’t necessarily make for a bad father.

Every Parent Loves Their Kid

In fact, he played a crucial role in my childhood and through all the times I’ve spent with him, he had ingrained in me many inherent attributes, albeit a mixture of good and bad ones.

Ever since I could walk, my dad was training me to kick a ball, and kick a ball I sure did. Like his father, he was a semi-pro footballer in the past, and I am very grateful that he had put me into an academy school for football at a very young age, for football has become a huge part of my life, even after 20 years on.

On the days where nobody was sporting enough to bring me out, Dad would whisk me off for some entertainment, taking me out for meals and spoiling me at arcades.

On other days, however, he would bring me out bar-hopping. Not the hipster bars that our millennial friends would chill and have deep conversations at either, but the shady ones with the flirty bargirls, heavy cigarette smoke, and sometimes god-awful karaoke.

Looking back, these bars were extremely inappropriate places for a father to bring his twelve-year-old son. But this was (in his own words) his way of ‘opening my eyes’ and ‘broadening my horizons’.

“If I can’t teach you good, I can at least teach you the bad.”

I was just twelve when I saw the world of bar girls taking orders from men who would eye them up. And when my dad flirting with different women became normalised behaviour, masked under the guise of ’friendly conversations’. Conversations that my dad would say, “talking cock” and “all in good fun.”

As a quiet kid by nature, I mostly observed those chummy interactions and minded my own business.

My dad introduced me to pool, and I’d always look forward to being back at the pool table—that became part of the only reason why I looked forward to going out with him later on.

Over time, I started to notice that there was this one lady who would approach my father on many days. As a kid, I didn’t really think too much into what that meant, except that she was my father’s companion for the night.

Then one day, my father asked me to call this lady Mom.

I cannot even begin to explain the mix of confusion and perturbation that put me in.

I know my mom, and she’s the woman who has been taking care of me since young, and whom loves me with all that she has. This lady, on the other hand, was someone who gets chummy with Dad on certain nights at the bar. How am I to call her Mom?

At the same time, I had no idea what it meant for my dad to do that.

It messed my mind up about what love is, how relationships work and what is morally right. It messed me up knowing that I had been practically watching my dad spending time with his mistress(es) thinking that it was no big deal. And to realise this whole other world that my dad had been living while my mom was back at home, slogging to look after her three children by herself. Are relationships like that? I didn’t remember it being like that in shows or anywhere else.

Looking back, I definitely I would have stood up to him if only I knew.

If only I knew.

You Can’t Choose Your Family

Since young, the phrase “no matter what, he is still your father” has been reiterated to me by my aunts, my uncles, and even my mom. And for the entirety of my childhood, I truly believed that my father was my father no matter what.

Despite all the shady activities and mistresses, I still saw him as a father. I appreciated having him around and genuinely believe that in his mind, this (bringing me into his world of bars and girls) was his way of getting closer to me.

The fact that we share quite a few similarities and him having imparted various skills that turned into personal passions of mine helped maintain that somewhat positive image I had of him.

As the only person that he let in on a side of him that no one else knew, I also saw myself as the potential bridge to making my family whole again (once again, because family should stay together right?).

I had even rationalised that perhaps, all the time he had spent with me was a cry for help. As the only family member who was close to him, I felt like I was able to break him out of his unhealthy habits at some point.

Unfortunately, it was all wishful thinking because what was a father-son relationship to me was to my dad, something that he could exploit. At least, that was what it seems when I picked up a call in late 2016.

Children Are A Poor Man’s Riches

“Where the f**k is your father?! Owe money don’t need to pay ah? If don’t pay back by 5pm, I’ll burn your house down!”

After the initial state of confusion, it hit me that my dad had given his son’s (my) personal details to a loan shark.

The most wrong I’ve done to him was probably stealing from his piggy bank (maybe it’s karma), but there I was as the guarantor for him to loan sharks. It was one of the worst feelings in the world, and I felt absolutely betrayed.

Soon enough, my family learnt that Dad had owed 21 loan sharks a total sum of $35,000.

Besides the loan sharks, he had also sold my insurance for money, and used my name for a telco plan, which racked up a debt of $900. When my family confronted him about it, his response was, “let them sue, they wouldn’t dare.”

With the help of my relatives, my family eventually paid off all the debts in hopes of closing this chapter, as my dad promised to do. And for a moment, I really thought that that was it for drama.

Then, just last month, I received a series of messages looking for my father. Again. From loan sharks.

It was barely three years ago that we paid off all his debts, but my father had let us relive all of those feelings of confusion, fear, worry, and heartbreak all over again. All for money which we have no idea what he needed for.

“Blood Is Thicker Than Water”

I used to love my father for the moments that he had brought to my life. For the times that he taught me football (even though the methods aren’t the best), how he introduced me to playing pool, which I’m good at now, and for just being around in his own, unorthodox way.

These skills and moments, however, do not even come close to justifying what he has done to my mom, my family, and me.

Not only has he broken our heart so many times, he had, through exposing me to the world of bargirls and flirting in my formative years, given me a warped belief system. I’ve had to relearn what it is like to love and to learn how to differentiate the ‘rights’ and ‘wrongs’ in relationships—not just romantic ones. I've hurt many people because of that and I beat myself over it.

For a long time, I struggled with coming to terms with having him as my father, and I cannot deny the many times I blamed him and wondered what I did to deserve a father like him.

I believe there are many things that contributed to how he turned out. Maybe it was his upbringing, or something that messed him up when he was young, but something should have contributed to him being this way. But for the most part, this man did not treat me like his son and I cannot possibly blindly accept that blood is thicker than water like I have been brought up to believe.

Learning to accept that has given me peace that I did not have for a long time. Lacking a ‘proper’ fatherly figure definitely affected my life but I’m thankful to have moved on mentally.

The whole concept of a traditionally-complete family is lost to me, but I’m happy to say that my family is as complete as it needs to be now. I have my mom and my siblings who love every bit of me, and whom I love as dearly. That is all I need from a family.

Also read: We Live Under One Roof, But We Don’t Feel Like Family At All.

(Header Image Credit: Ian Tormo on Unsplash)

I’m a lot closer to my friends than my family. There’s so much more that my friends see and know about me. It isn’t because I grew up being looked after by my grandparents, relatives, or helper. I was never sent to child care centres either. My parents brought my brother and me up all by themselves. It wasn’t that I grew up in a broken family either. My parents were always loving to each other and to us. Our middle-income family lifestyle also meant a high regard for simplicity, humility, and maintaining family ties. We appreciate what we have and we appreciate each other, yet I feel a disconnect with the very people I’m supposed to be closest to – and it’s not because we don’t spend time together. Occasionally, my father will drive us across the causeway for cheap eats, shopping, or a massage. My mother’s regular home cooking is also a reason for us to huddle together for dinner every day after work. We spend a lot of time together but there’s hardly any conversation aside from my mum’s gripe about the market prices of meat and vegetables. I don't share about my day and I don't ask them about theirs. It just feels weird, unnatural. When I see social media posts of my friends enjoying movie nights, ice skating, or trips to USS together with their family, I wished my family was like that too. It isn’t where they went that I am envious of, it is the laughter and light banter in the background. It is the quality time together that I long for. Was there something we could have done in the past that would have made us closer now? Why don’t we do fun family activities together? Is it because all of us grew up too quickly? I know, it’s already a privilege to have a family. An unexciting family of four, stable and boring, but safe. Some people don’t even have anyone to call ‘family’. I appreciate what I have but if only I could draw close to my supposed nearest and dearest without feeling so awkward.

My parents’ love for my sibling and I is undeniable, but so is the ever-growing gap between us.

When I had trouble catching up on my studies, I hid it from my parents. When it came to matters of the heart and having my heart broken by the guys I dated, I turned to friends instead. When I was lost and confused about life after graduation, I turned to Google for advice. My parents didn’t deserve to be disappointed, and I never felt comfortable to share. Call it pride, call it fear but it was never a natural way of my life to talk about my feelings and emotions with my parents so openly. And now that I’m a working adult with my own social circles and partner, there are more distractions and lesser reasons for me to talk with my parents. Perhaps we were just that stereotypical Asian family who avoided complicated topics and shunned from anything related to sex. When I asked why I was growing hair at my nether regions, my mother would tell me that it is because I didn’t wash my vagina clean enough. When I had my first period and asked why we (girls) had periods, my dad said it’s just something that makes you an ‘official woman’. They never elaborated more than that and I never probed. Sometimes I wonder if this is why I’m so gullible today. However, the ‘Asian culture’ was stronger during my parents’ days and yet they still remain close to their siblings. Even though we all live separate lives, every family gathering filled our home with warmth and energy, there was always laughter and chatter. Perhaps this is the legendary kampong spirit that everyone talks about. What happened with my generation then? Perhaps it’s because life was much simpler then. In place of movies or video games, entertainment was playing marbles or fives stones with siblings or the neighbours’ kids. Social gatherings meant you had to interact with people instead of being on your phone.

Stevecutts GIF by Moby

As much as it feels distant, the thought of losing my parents still scares me. Besides the pain of never seeing them again, I worry that losing them would also mean losing the only thing that holds my brother and I together. We were raised by the same parents and only two years apart, but we couldn’t be more different. We have led two very separate lives and we barely look alike – we were never close, not when we were young and not now. I knew a girl in my secondary school who had a brother I wished I had. He was a senior in our school and he’d always walk her home. Even when my friend stayed back for CCAs or simply to hang out with her friends, her brother would wait in school until she was done. I wanted that protective and cool brother who would not only be my guardian angel if someone shoots rubber bands at me but would also teach me how to fire these rubber bands back with twice the power. Instead, most of the interactions I had with my brother involved us fighting between ourselves. Now that we’re older, my brother makes an effort to communicate and connect with me despite working and living in another country most of the year, but it never feels right. We speak in different languages and our conversations lack depth but I still hope that eventually my brother and I will find a connection we never had. I just hope my brother believes it, too. After all, blood is always thicker than water. Also read, 12 S’poreans Reveal The Most Endearingly Embarrassing Habits Of Their Mums.
As we edge into our twenties, we begin to accept the fact that we are really no longer kids. Most of us would be either completing our studies or building up a career. It’s scary to even think of having a baby ourselves. Being a parent is no easy feat. It's even tougher when you're young and hadn't planned to be one yet. We often hear about the trials and tribulations from girls who went through teenage pregnancy, or from being a young mother. However, rarely do we get to hear from the dads who’ve stuck by the ladies through such situations. This Father’s Day, we reached out to 29-year-old Charles John (CJ). This is his story of being a young father to a child out of wedlock.

Getting 'Caught In A Situation'

CJ and Mieko when they were dating
Back then, I had been dating my girlfriend, Mieko, for 2 years. We both used to smoke and drink a lot, but one day she just couldn’t stand the smell of smoke anymore. That was when we suspected that she could be pregnant. Furthermore, she had missed her period for one and a half months. It was only after a pregnancy test kit from 7-11 and a visit to polyclinic later that our suspicions were confirmed. Mieko was pregnant. I was going to be a father.

Her Parents Gave An Ultimatum

I was shocked, of course. A part of me was in panic mode because we were young and not married. But at the same time, I was happy and excited that we were going to have our own flesh and blood. We didn't have big doubts on keeping the baby because we felt it was only right to, but our parents didn’t take it very well. When Mieko told her parents, they gave her an ultimatum to abort the baby or be thrown out of the house. We both struggled with the decision to abort after that. But after seeing the first ultrasound at the hospital – we just couldn’t bear to abort. Even after Mieko told her parents, I struggled to break the news to mine. Mieko eventually texted my mother about it and my mother was shocked. She reasoned that life would be difficult as we were financially very unstable. To add on to the stress we were facing, she is also a practicing Catholic so she wanted Mieko and I to get married before our baby was born. However, Mieko was only 18 and considered a minor so she needed consent from her parents for marriage. Her parents did not approve since Mieko was still very young. We eventually waited till she was 21 and got married.
CJ and Mieko getting married

Harsh Realities

Mieko was only 18 then and working part-time while doing her diploma. I was 22 and just started my first full-time job at Keppel shipyard. Reality hit that we weren’t financially stable to support ourselves, much less bring a child up. My worries were mainly the financial aspects, but this can be worked on. On the negative thoughts people may have of me, I think nobody dared to say negative things to me directly. But I can’t deny that there were sentiments that bothered me slightly. I just ignored it and concentrated on our happiness.

Making The Decision

CJ with his family
Despite everything, Mieko and I decided to keep the baby. We are Roman Catholics and it is against our religion to abort a baby because we believe that every child is a gift from God. We also felt that this would be a new and interesting chapter of our lives together that will better us in our lifestyles, making us more responsible adults.

No Longer Young And Wild

There were definitely many things that we had to change. Before, we would spend freely without thinking. I’d spend a lot on things like cigarettes and alcohol, and go clubbing every week. When Dayna happened, I stayed home more often so I could save more money. I told myself that I’d never allow myself to go ‘bankrupt’ ever again. We've been thriftier. We don’t go clubbing often anymore. Even when we do, it’s probably once in a few months. Our entire paycheck now goes towards daily necessities, bills, and our kids. Compared to our younger, wilder days, we now meet up with friends over meals or they would come over to our place. We’d just chill at night after the girls have gone to sleep and maybe have a few drinks to relax. As a person, I became much more patient. Instead of letting my temper get the better of me, I’ve learnt to take a breath and keep my cool.

Being A Father Is Rewarding

CJ and his family today
Becoming a father in an unplanned pregnancy and before marriage has its challenges. There were many things that I had to change – it’s no longer a care-free lifestyle where I can do whatever I wanted. If my baby girls cried for food in the middle of the night, I'd wake up to feed them. My priority is now my girls. And it’s all worth it when I see them smiling and laughing back at me. As a father, that’s also the most rewarding part – to see your children happy.

Don’t Regret Your Decisions

If there are friends who find themselves in the same position as I was, I’d say, “Whatever it is, if you have a strong feeling on a decision and feel that it’s right, just go for it. Don’t follow people’s decisions and regret on it later.” Also read These 14 Heartwarming Stories Show That A Mother’s Love Is Like No Other.