Dad admitted that he had waited for years, hoping David would mature, but he was slowly realizing that David was becoming a big bully. Hearing this from my dad was incredibly validating, and I almost broke down in tears. I confessed everything David had done to me over the years and even mentioned the bullying at school.
My dad was shocked at how much I had endured. The next day, he spoke to the principal to ensure the bullies were warned about severe consequences if they continued. Later that evening, dad enrolled me in MMA at our local gym, telling me I needed to man up and stand up to bullies in my life.
I admit that a nerdy kid like me trying to learn to fight might have seemed laughable, but I was very focused. I managed my time well to balance my studies and daily workouts, and the MMA classes completely changed my life and physique. One day, David was up to his antics again.
He stole my pocket money, which we received for helping with chores. I had been saving it for a while. David sneaked into my room and took it.
I caught him just as he was about to cycle off with his friends. I demanded he return my money but David mocked me, saying all I could do was run to daddy for help. I don’t know what came over me, but I punched him in the face.
He was stunned, fell backward, and I retrieved my money from his pocket before throwing him back down. David started crying loudly, which was quite comical. However, my mother rushed out to help him and find out what happened.
When she learned I had fought him, she was surprised and reprimanded me, saying I should be a better role model for David, who seemed to enjoy seeing me scolded. My mother also complained to my dad about my behavior, saying I needed to be controlled. My dad grimly asked both of us to explain ourselves.
I told him how David had stolen the money I had worked hard for and saved, while David tried to justify it by saying he needed the money for a date, and that as his brother, I should help him. However, dad told David he was lucky I only punched him for stealing because anyone else would have called the police. He continued to tell David that he had no right to take others’ things without their consent.
David didn’t like that and threw a tantrum, likely hoping our mother would side with him, but dad remained firm. When David realized he wasn’t going to be punished for being hit, he screamed how much he hated me and ran back to his room, locking himself in. Following that incident, David began to distance himself from me.
He had finally understood that he couldn’t bully me anymore, and that even dad had stopped supporting his antics. For the first time in a long while, I felt like we were equals. Though he could no longer physically harm me, he resorted to verbal insults when our parents weren’t around.
His behavior worsened with age, becoming angrier and more short-tempered each year. When I approached him with a question, he would ignore me and walk away, muttering insults like nerd or loser under his breath. If he needed to communicate something, he would relay it through our mother instead of speaking to me directly.
When I questioned her about why David couldn’t just talk to me, she would urge me to be more understanding. I couldn’t tell if it was just puberty or genuine hatred. Over time, dealing with his comments became unbearable, and I longed to move out and get away from him.
I repeatedly asked my mother to mediate a sit-down conversation for us to resolve our issues, but she always refused, saying she didn’t want to get involved. When I asked her opinion on why David treated me this way, she would brush off the question. Eventually, I left for my dream university, having earned a scholarship as a top student.
My dad threw a party for me, and even my mom seemed proud. However, David remained aloof and distant, barely acknowledging my achievements. The day I left for university was a mix of excitement for the future and relief to escape the toxic home environment.
The first few months at university were liberating. I made new friends, enjoyed my classes, and started to build a life separate from the oppressive atmosphere of my childhood. The constant fear of David’s verbal attacks lifted, giving me a newfound sense of peace.
During my second year, I met my wife, Karen, at a frat party through a friend, and we immediately clicked. Coming from a religious background, having kids outside of marriage was frowned upon. However, when we discovered she was pregnant in our final year, we decided to marry right after graduation.
Our wedding was a small but joyful ceremony. Our parents were happy for us, and we enjoyed the celebration. At that moment, I believed Karen was the love of my life.
I had always envisioned a monogamous relationship, one woman to come home to and share my life with. Despite other women showing interest over the years, I never pursued anything because I was genuinely content in my marriage. Karen was my dreamgirl, and I never wanted to hurt her.
However, I later uncovered two incidents of infidelity in our marriage. One was an intermittent affair with her married co-worker that spanned several years, and the other was a brief fling with an ex-boyfriend during a visit to her family. Some might think I was naive, and looking back, I can’t completely disagree.