So Be It

I try to distance myself from toxic people as much as possible because they negatively affect my mental health. Unfortunately, this includes someone very close to me—my Dad. During most of my childhood, I spent more time with my Mom, who was always present and supportive. My Dad, on the other hand, was a workaholic and often away on business. We rarely talked or spent time together until after he retired, by which time I was already an adult. Even then, our conversations often left me feeling distressed. His energy and presence can be overwhelming and emotionally draining.

To be clear, my Dad is a responsible father, and I respect him for that. But our relationship has always been challenging. He's an extrovert, while I’m an introvert, and this clash of personalities has made it difficult for us to connect. Despite my elder sister’s efforts to explain my nature to him, he has never really understood how I prefer solitude and find peace in being alone. Whether it's because of his traditional values or just a lack of understanding, he can't grasp how I live my life without constantly being around people. This gap in understanding has strained our relationship to the point where I felt the need to distance myself from both of my parents after college, even though I love my Mom dearly. She’s a devoted wife and wouldn’t leave my Dad’s side, so I made the difficult choice to move away.

Over the years, my Dad would visit me, but those visits were often filled with negativity—rants and complaints that seemed endless. My twin sister eventually invited me to live abroad with her, and I eagerly accepted, hoping to escape our Dad’s toxic influence. Life overseas was good, but homesickness set in, and we decided to return home when our Mom begged us to come back. Looking back, I’m grateful we did because two years later, she passed away. It felt like fate had given us the opportunity to spend her final years close to her.

As for my Dad, I haven’t spoken to him much since our return. It's not that I hate him—I don’t. But every time I try to check in and ask how he’s doing, our conversation quickly spirals into negativity, with him lamenting about the difficulties of life or fixating on morbid topics like death. It’s heartbreaking because he’s retired now and should be enjoying life, focusing on the positives rather than the negatives. I’ve reached a point where I just want to be around happy, uplifting people. If that’s too much to ask of him, then so be it. I need to protect my peace.