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    15 Divorced Parents Left a Lasting Harmful Impact on Their Children.

    As a child of divorced parents who spent my childhood between two different houses, I often wonder about the experiences of others who have shared this unique upbringing. Recently, Reddit user u/hopelessmoderate posed the question to the community, asking for firsthand anecdotes about what it was like to grow up straddling two households. So, tell us, what was your experience like navigating the differing cultures, routines, and dynamics of your dual households?
    People didn’t hold anything back, and revealed how deeply their divorced parents affected their childhood. I commend them for their honesty because it definitely sounded pretty gruesome and heavy on them.
    During my parents’ divorce, I found myself caught in the crosshairs of relentless bullying. It was a situation that left me feeling helpless and alone, but I chose to suffer in silence in order to spare my already-struggling parents from any added burden. At the tender age of 11, I was forced to confront the harsh reality that kids of divorce are often forced to mature beyond their years amidst the chaos and turmoil of separation.
    Growing up in the UK, I vividly recall the overwhelming sense of shame, disappointment, and unworthiness that came with my non-custodial parent’s persistent attempts to minimize their child maintenance contributions. The mere thought of not being able to partake in extracurricular activities or receive music lessons and school trips caused immense distress. My dad’s refusal to pay for these basic necessities truly resonated with me, creating an environment where asking for even the bare minimum transformed you into the antagonist. What a frustrating and disheartening ordeal, all because of my dad’s incessant resentment towards the lack of control over my mum’s spending patterns.
    The most distressing aspect of being the child of divorced parents was the constant apprehension of their interaction. A decade may have elapsed, yet I cannot refer to my mother in the presence of my father without feeling uncertain about his anticipated reaction. On one occasion, while he was dropping us off, he chanced upon my mother’s new partner and attempted to instigate a physical altercation. This ultimately gives rise to an idiosyncrasy in which you feel like two dissimilar individuals. I had possessions at one residence but not the other, and so my day-to-day routine and lifestyle varied significantly between each house. The moment I arrived at one home, it was akin to a metamorphosis, whereby I would completely forget everything related to the other house. Refraining from mentioning anything that transpired at the other residence became the norm, creating a sense of detachment between the two halves of my life. Though it didn’t seem too distressing at the time, upon reflection, I realize how much it has impacted me.
    As a young adult, I embarked on a new independent chapter in my life and left the nest. However, whenever I returned to my childhood home, I never quite felt like I belonged as a permanent resident. Although I spent my formative years in the space, even after moving out, I was always treated as a guest. To make matters worse, my former bedroom was quickly occupied by my step-sibling.
    As I grew up with separated parents, I found myself adapting to their conflicting ways of living and expectations, ultimately leading to a split personality. Their inability to get along spilled over into their households and affected how I was supposed to behave in each. I became a chameleon, altering my behavior to please each parent during visitation times. However, as an adult, I still find myself struggling with conflicting behaviors, such as how I maintain my home, my political views, and my religion.

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