What is wrong with parents these days!

Remember hearing your parents saying a version of this while we were going up? What is wrong with kids these days, followed by a list of all the things we were doing wrong.

What does every kid need from a parent? Love for a child is automatic right? That is what most people say about their children. Kids need this...but it isn't the most important thing at least from my perspective. It is necessary due to what it breeds...the emotions that stem from it....

I think kids, no matter the age, need acceptance, understanding, and praise from their parents. My brother doesn't talk to my parents anymore. He may tell me I'm wrong but I think it is because they didn't give him these three things. He may say it is because they kicked him out of the house, but that would just be an extension of the three things above. I'm envious of him sometimes because he got a break...he got away. He doesn't talk to me much anymore. I have taken mom and dad's side....I didn't. I just tried to survive. I couldn't even drive when he left home. My big brother seven years older than me had always been my hero. And over the next few years, lines would be drawn on an invisible battleground because of our parents.

I learned from him though. I went away from college. I didn't stay at home, because I knew I would not survive like he didn't. Trying to spread wings, trying to be independent within the confines of another adult's house, doesn't work. I learned that the hard way by watching him. He doesn't know how painful it was to watch my family ripped apart.

We moved a lot after he was out of the house. There wasn't much fun about growing up in the house after that. There was always a cloud - a fog. I did my best to survive and tread lightly.

His grief came from my mom. Mine comes from my dad. What do little girls do when they aren't the apple of their daddy's eye? I have spent years trying to please him. I have focused so much energy on it sometimes it sickens me.

Before I went to work for JD, things were fine. I hadn't succeeded in pleasing him but I was on the right path. But about the time things started going well for me, things stopped going so well for him. I had to stop telling him about promotions or raises, because it would make me feel guilty or make me cry when he wasn't proud of me. I knew he was frustrated with his own career derailment, so I stopped sharing those things with him.

When I got into Chicago GSB, I thought he would be proud. He seemed like it at first, until he started saying things like, "I'm surprised you got in", "I didn't think you would get in.", or my personal favorite, "You probably got in because of who you work for."

One or two of these things you can blow off, they build up in a little girl's mind, even if she is 35. Since mom has been in the hospital, I think he has all these emotions built up inside and they keep seeping out as daggers aimed at me. He has told me that I am mean, harsh, and other things I can't even bear to put into writing.

I got a really horrid score on my corporate finance midterm that I took a week after my mom went into the hospital. I hadn't studied, I was a little preoccupied. I knew that if I didn't ace the final there was a really good chance I was not going to pass the class. The final was a massacre. Really smart guys were saying, "I'm not sure why I sat there that long." I prepared myself to fail the class. Prepare for the worst expect the best mind set. Even told my dad there was a chance I failed the class. That was my mistake to say that to him. Since I got my grade, which turned out to be a C. A grade I am damn proud of to be honest even if it does suck. Now he says things to me like, "The professor knew what was going on with your mother and probably just gave you the grade.", "He (the prof) was just being nice." or again my personal favorite, "I'd still like to know what kind of deal you made with that professor that got you a C." I almost told him that I had slept with the prof just for the sheer shock value of it. For the record, I didn't sleep with the prof. I did however, study my booty off for that final.

I was supposed to go see my parents this last weekend because it was my last weekend before classes start again. I was going to go Saturday morning and return on Sunday. Dad threw that last zinger in there on Friday night. Maybe I was having an emotional day, maybe it was just the straw that broke the camel's back, but I ended up in tears. This wasn't the first time he had broke me down to tears on this subject. And it wasn't that he didn't know he had me in tears the first time.

I didn't go see my parents this past weekend. I stayed at home, in the safety of a house that they can't kick me out of, where I could quietly lick my wounds from years of being the only punching bag available.

A daughter needs for her dad to believe in her. To think that every accomplishment big or small is amazing. To love her despite her imperfections. To always stand by her....to be in her cheering section.

During the month of July, my friends would laugh when I said God hated me as I pointed out all the signs of Murphy in my life. They would tell me from what they knew they were certain that wasn't true. Those weren't the real reason I thought God hated me...my empty cheering section is the reason I think God hates me.

I don't want to diminish the fact that I have amazing and wonderful friends who definitely cheer me on. Its just that inside this 35 year old, there's still a little girl...who is exhausted from trying to keep her family together for the last 21 years.

I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I'm not asking for pity. I'm just wondering when the bell is going to ring, and we get to go back to our corners, or when the ref is going to call the knock out official. Because I still feel like I am struggling to get off the mat from Friday night's blow.