‘This Does Not Define Me” essay wins second place in ‘This I Believe’ contest

Brynn Tatar, 16, and a student at Stockbridge High School, earned second place for her ‘This I Believe’ essay. The semi-annual contest, offered in collaboration between the school and Stockbridge CADL library, recognizes outstanding works of local students. Below, Tatar’s words speak for themselves.

Brynn Tatar, 16, earns Second Place in ‘This I Believe’ competition for her essay, ‘This Does not Define Me.”

This does not define me

by Brynn Tatar

I have always known more than I should have. I always heard things and observed the way people interacted, and I understood the adult mindset very early on in life. From a young age, I could tell my family situation was off. My parents are split up, they’ve been split up since I’ve been 5 years old. I don’t live with either of my parents now, and I haven’t lived with either of them in about 8 years.

My mother was addicted to opiates, and very distant. She worked two jobs and had three kids. I don’t ever remember a, lovey, mother-daughter moment with her. I don’t think I ever truly bonded with my mother or my father for that matter.

It was a rather confusing situation actually, my dad was distant and uninterested in being a family man, but he was around every day. He was dependent on my mother and mooched off her income. My father would try anything to get a high. All the way from smoking crack to taking mass amounts of Benadryl medication. He was and continues to be an alcoholic. The sad truth is I don’t think he loves me like a father should love his only daughter, and that hurts most because I just want that feeling. In actuality, I’d rather have a deadbeat dad, than one I have to sit and stare at every day, wishing and hoping that he’d wake up one day and love me.

When my mom was 38 she got her head on straight and went to a clinic. She received help and treatment that she needed for the next 4 years. She was clean. Around this time my father was so broke, he couldn’t even afford drugs. He lived off of leftover pizza and bud light. I suppose my relationship with them was sort of there. My mom and I joked around a lot, we talked but not about anything serious or important. As for my dad, we had brief conversations, short and vague.

It wasn’t until recently that my mom went off the rails and started abusing drugs again. She left the state with a random guy. Although I didn’t know him, I could read him. I knew he was trouble. I didn’t hear from her for 4 months, and that hurt more than any pain I’ve ever felt. She had abandoned us, once again. When things went sour for my mother like I warned her it would, she showed up, and the funny thing about that is my emotions didn’t. Walking into the room and seeing her bruised up and all teary-eyed didn’t have the same effect on me. Instead I just froze up and felt nothing but sickness. She started bawling and grasping my shirt. I stayed quiet, feeling nauseated and angry. It was different now. I felt no pity nor sadness. No disappointment like I had in the past. Just emptiness.

I had an epiphany: I realized I had finally overcome the need for a love that my mother was incapable of giving me. I stepped away from her and the havoc she wrecked on me. Having been dealt this hand in life has taught me well, and I don’t let it define me. I have a job, good grades, and some wonderful friends. My success in life will be determined by my tenacity and determination, and my ability to rise above my raising. This I Believe.