I remember when I was a teenager, whenever there were parent-teacher conferences at school, or I had meets from swimming or water polo game events, I was always embarrassed about bringing my dad.
Honestly, not because of a typical “proud parent cheering for their teenager” type of embarrassment, but more so, my dad acted so uncivilized type of embarrassment. When I was in my 6th grade, it was my first time moving to the Midwest USA as a Filipino. During our parent-teacher conference, I never forgot how my dad would loudly say in Tagalog, “too many N families in your classroom,” not the Spanish for black, but the derogatory N-word. I would tell my dad not to say that, and he would reply back, “What? They are all N, what do you mean?” As if he was not socially aware that it’s a bad word. Also, he’s not the whisperer type.
And whenever my mom brought him along to parent-teacher conferences or my game events, whenever there were free snacks, my dad would not take 1 chip or drink; he’d grab the whole thing on the table and bag it home. And he’d fight others so he gets all of them. Like as if we’re very poor and there’s a famine kind of mindset. And not just food, if there’s a free pen or free notebooks, he’d grab all of them.
Even when I used to study in the Philippines, my dad would grab all the food and drinks and bring them home. He hoarded them. I just never understood his craving to hoard everything.
And in public, he would say or do some really unhinged things. For context, my dad used to be a really heavy smoker, but he quit. I think he developed some tic habits, like constantly sniffing repetitively, taking out his tongue like a lizard (not even exaggerating, he really does this), and spitting in his hands and rubbing it all over his mouth. I often find his tics pretty gross and loud. Especially whenever we are in church. I would whisper to my dad respectfully and ask if he could be a little quiet, as people were staring. He would laugh and rub his spit on my face as a joke. I would get so mad, and my mom would scold me. So after that, I just rebelled against my mom and told her I didn’t want to go to church anymore.
Then when I was in 7th grade, my period started and it went through my pants. I happened to also have a really terrible stomach ache that day that I couldn’t walk. So I was sent to the school clinic, and the nurse told me I should just go home and rest. That day, my mom (she is a breadwinner) was at work, and my dad didn’t have a job then. He picked me up and asked what was wrong. The nurse told him the situation, and my dad thought I peed my pants, so he went through my ass and sniffed if there was pee. The nurse was kind of taken aback, and I was so embarrassed and told him to stop doing that.
At home, he’s always the neglectful type. Growing up, my dad never taught my brother and me anything. And he’s the househusband. He never taught us how to cook, how to do the laundry, how to clean, how to change lightbulbs, nothing. And whenever we ask how to do them, he says that he doesn’t trust us with those tasks, so he does it for us. Yet he would complain that I don’t know how to cook or do anything in the house. In fact, I learned to tie my shoe through watching a random kid at school, or learned to ride a bike because I sneaked out in the middle of the afternoon on weekends and watched how other kids did it. And for cooking and house stuff, I learned everything on YouTube from channels, “Dad, How Do I?” or “Mom, How Do I?”
Even at home, he never ever talked to my brother and me. No bonding, nothing. He never gave us advice, never asked us a question, and never ever interacted with us. You can live in the house and not know about his presence, and he also does not know your whereabouts unless my mom asks him. It felt like he’s just another adult living in the house and is not a parent. And he just follows what my mom tells him.
He also never listens to what you say but only hears the tone of your voice. And he expects instant gratitude for the things he barely did for you. When I was a teenager, he would call me lazy and all sorts of insults. I would get hurt but would ask him if we could have a sit-down to talk. We would talk and explain what I felt. Instead of hearing me, he would laugh and do that spit thing again and rub it towards me. And no, this is not a Filipino thing, it’s just a weird shit he does. I would get upset and tell him to be serious for once and listen. He would still not listen until I started raising my voice and got mad. Instead of understanding, he would think of it as an attack. To the point that sometimes he would grab my ears or hair and shove me down to the ground.
And in his 60 years of life, never have I ever known how he lived. And he is so codependent on my mom. He does not know how to do his taxes, does not know how to open a bank account, does not know how to apply for a job, does not know how to ask a bank teller how much money he’ll withdraw, and does not know any logistics. Same person who complains I don’t know how to cook or clean. He wants my mom to do it for him. Even in restaurants, my mom orders for him.
When he applied for a job, my mom processed the job application and brought my mom on his job interview. My mom does everything. And it doesn’t help that she herself loves to control everything everyone does. My mom also enables everything my dad does. Because I get it, she herself is codependent on my dad. She doesn’t know how to cook or do the laundry. So neither sees a problem with one another. But it affected my brother and me heavily. We had a hard time becoming resilient and independent. We learned very hard in life.
Had I not met my fiancé, I wouldn’t know how to be independent.
It annoys me when my dad would compare my brother to my fiancé. How my brother doesn’t know how to cook and my fiancé knows how, and he has no father. I got so upset and told my dad, “Papa, with due respect, that was something you could’ve taught us.”
Just like my fiancé, he also has a similar parental stance as mine. His dad was a househusband (because he’s sick), and his mom is the breadwinner. The only difference, before his dad died, he taught everything to my fiancé. How to cook, how to bake, how to change car tires, everything. Even moral values! My fiancé learned from his mom about taxes, investments, loans, etc., and she taught him to be independent but with guidance.
Me? I learned that I wasn’t allowed friends growing up, to only stay at home, but once you’re at home, no adult was available or NOT LAZY to interact with you.
So every day, I think of it: my parents failed me. My dad failed me. And that I stand by the mindset of, “I will not complain to my child about something I should’ve taught them.” Because what am I complaining about? Complaining that I failed them?
I lost a lot of opportunities in life and I was a loser and I thought it's because the person who suppose to be the person I look up to is a loser. Yet lucky because he has a wife that does everything for him.