I hate my mother. My dad was the nicest man you'd ever meet. He was a blue collar guy who owed an appliance repair service who worked his butt off to provide a great life for my mother, my sister and me. My mother came from a wealthy family who always made my dad feel inadequate. Her spending sprees and her forcing him to buy her furs and jewelry meant there was little left for my sister and me. The worst thing was that my mother was the most glamorous woman in our neighborhood. She was always dressed way above everyone else and she was a very attractive woman. Men flocked to her.

To my father's never ending humiliation, my mother went through men like most people go through a sleeve of chip's ahoys. One man after another their entire married life and she never made much of an effort to hide it. Guys would be at the house when my sister and I got home from school, my mother would always be telling my dad she was going out with "a friend." He'd sit home depressed all the time when she was out fucking around. Men would send her flowers, buy her gifts, say disparaging things in front of us, my mom was always verbally abusing my dad where we could hear. he didn't provide, he was low class, he was too small, couldn't pleasure her, the sexual humiliation was terrible. I hated her growing up and still do. I hate that my dad stayed with her through all the abuse and all of the men who must number in the hundreds. And I'm hating myself at the moment because after all that, I broke down and had an affair of my own that just ended after two years. I feel like I'm no different than my mom always was right now.