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I blame my parents
From the moment I was born, my family and the people around me have been molding me into the person I have become. It may have been the way that they dealt with punishment, the way that they held me as I fell asleep, or it very easily could have of been the sound of their voice when they told me that they loved me. Apart from the lighthearted times, the hostility seems to have molded my present self, and it stands out as the most distinct form of socialization. But, no matter what it was, there is no denying that it fashioned nearly all of my characteristic traits.
At an early age, I was brought up in a slightly rough atmosphere. My parents loved my brother and I unconditionally, however, the love they had towards one another was buried behind egocentric love affairs and alcohol rampages. As much as I told myself my parents loved each other, I knew that love was not enough to keep this family together. I quickly developed a mind set in which fairytale endings only existed in movies and mixed families were a present day happening. I came to find out that trust was nonexistent in my relationships and there was nothing I could do to alter my opinion.
Cheating was acceptable as long as they seemed sincerely sorry, as long as they could put food on the table and support the family. I based my relationships on everything I picked up from my family and at times I struggled from the unconscious decisions I made. But as my family grew into stronger Christians and better examples, I began to adapt to the positive changes they started to make. My mother resolved her problems through prayer instead of resulting to the bottle, and my father married a very religious woman whom he could remain loyal to.
Although the events thrown in my direction have been a mix of good and evil, one thing is certain: I have incoherently adapted to the socializations around me, and there is no one else to blame for my obscene behavior but my...