What do I know about my father?
Honestly, it’s a question I just considered because, in some ways, I don’t know him as well as one might think.
He was born in Curacao. Although he spent the first ten years speaking Dutch, he cannot speak it today. I find that fascinating.
He has ADHD and dyslexia, like me. I got mine from him.
He was depressed. Never satisfied with anything. A philanderer — but I don’t know much about that. I wish I did.
His version of reality—which he imposed on everyone else—sucks.
He has low self-esteem.
He’s very insecure.
He’s very worried about what other people think about him.
He’s riddled with shame.
My father is a coward—violent to his very core—with low empathy. He has no idea what real love is all about and thinks of himself as a failure. Yet, lots of people like him and look up to him.
He inherited land and owns a few apartments.
He’s a little bit racist. Perhaps he’s a lot racist, and I’m underestimating that. He once told my sister not to marry anyone “too…
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