Parent’s Are Always Right…Right?

My dad and I have an unbreakable bond, I have always been a daddy’s girl and even when I got in trouble and yelled at I still looked up to him and admired him. I always appreciated my dad messing with my friendships, it never affected me one bit. My dad was raised in the time where blacks were in one area by themselves and white people were everywhere else. And he tried to raise me in that same way. It all started out when he found out about my first black boyfriend, he was extremely happy for me, to the point of tears. It wasn’t the first black man that I had been in relations with, but it was the first one that I was serious about and felt the need to tell my dad. He hugged me and told me he was happy for me. Then one day he looked at me and smiled and said “I have an idea” My father, the one who always told me he wanted the best for me had made an application for future suitors. If the man went against one of the criteria, just one they were not allowed to even be a consideration. He made me make the decisions, and if I didn’t pick the right one, I was taken to the basement and was beaten, electrocuted, or waterboarded. It was like he was trying to train me to find only rich white men. If you didn’t check white on the application or did not have any sort of plan for your future, then do not even try and talk to me.
It honestly was not that bad, I did not mind on missing out on our opportunities for friendships. I loved my parents so much for just controlling and stabilizing my life. I did not have to worry about the drama of finding a guy, because obviously if he was applying to be my boyfriend he was working to get me and not me working to get him. It also allowed me to miss out on numerous opportunities. I never got to go to the mall, or do any of those fun friendship adventures. It was just me and my parents for the rest of my life. The application for a “man” to be my boyfriend was very detailed and time consuming. The man must fill out his race, which was the most important part. Secondly his background, like his deep roots, then what type of sports he played, what grade he was in, age, height, stuff like that. If my parents did not like one certain thing about you then you were not allowed to even talk to me. Which I did not mind even if you were cute. It is not like my feelings mattered. Especially when the boy I was dating was taken out of my life, I loved him but you know my parents were just doing what was best for me. I appreciated that and I could never tell them no, because they were right. They were older than me therefore they were always right no matter what. They could hit someone with a car and still be right, because it did not matter what happened or what the situation was, they were one hundred percent right all of the time. I cannot wait, until I finally meet the right man that my parents have picked for me, even if I find him absolutely disgusting as long as my parents like him that is all that matters.

Parent’s Are Always Right…Right?

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