I am the first born in my nuclear family. A daughter. Some of my strong personality and leadership is natural, I guess. But I’d say most of it was learned. Out of fear, out of survival. Out of wanting to be just fucking normal like I saw on TV, really.
Today I woke up thinking about my former boss. I can’t describe her face or her mechanisms because words fail me — but she is ethereal. Not from anything material. Don’t get me wrong. She checks every single American Dream Box. Stunning, married to her college sweetheart, well put together and just happens to exceed in her field across many disciplines. I miss her terribly…
This literal saint of a woman always said that I am a natural born leader. I was maybe 37 or 38 when she said this to me for the first time. When I first started working for her, I had a 1.5 year old and 3.5 year old and left a previous employer, taking a step down from management due to “work life balance”.
I was uncomfortable at the time, when she said it. I felt embarrassed, I remember turning so red, struggling to see her comment as a good thing. She wanted me to lead a project and I had reservations because I was newer than my two existing counterparts and coworkers (my friends!). Although on paper, you’d call me successful — I have RAGING imposter syndrome. But of course, I said yes anyways.
Despite my feelings inside and accepting the work, the words “born leader” sat in my heart like a hot brick. My life changed that day — and I had no idea why this very insignificant conversation would plant a seed. One that would grow wild and unruly, extending to every single facet of my life — well beyond work.
I don’t remember a lot of my childhood. I remember certain things from when I was very young — Kindergarten or about there. One of my earliest memories is of my father, sitting in a chair with a very dim light on. It maybe goes dark. I think he is only in his underwear, and he’s saying he is going to kill himself. I remember the gun going off. My mom is inconsolable, crying. Wailing. The noise was horrific, she did this often. (Spoiler alert, he’s still alive.)
I can’t remember if this event is before or after my dad got wasted and destroyed our home. A home that was given to us for a better start, moving from Detroit to the suburbs. He fucked it up in under five years, I think. I lived from about 3rd grade on, inside a house without walls, no proper guard rails from where he’d ripped things down, nothing but subfloor in most of the house, with exposed electrical wires and things like insulation. The upper floor, where my room used to be, now completely unusable. My brother and I slept in various places in the house, on our beds – but never in a bedroom. I finally got my own room when I was a junior in high school. That is the year we got carpet.
I’ll save all the drama for what comes next: I ended up leaving the state after I turned 18 (shortly after turning 19).I wasn’t able to really get through college in my home state, and lacked support or real emotional intelligence and stability from any adult in my immediate life. I wasn’t sure what I went out to find, except I knew that like every other time in my life, if I wanted to succeed at something…It would be up to me.
It’s complicated talking about this. I’d love to tell you I went out into the world and just NAILED LIFE WITHOUT INSTRUCTIONS. I wasn’t any different than the other young adults I’d met in my early 20s — just trying to make a life for themselves. What I was doing for a first job, across the landscape we found ourselves in at the time, is a story for another day.
My parents, for the most part, remained absent in my life. Occasionally in adulthood, my dad would cosplay my successes and sort of show up, despite not really being there for me at all, ever. He always needed me more than I needed him. Same for my mom.
They’d divorced and both remarried, and both of their partners were fitting for them. My dad’s wife was a child to his 40 something years, my mom married another lowlife looking for the easiest, laziest way to live. I’m not sure either of them would ever attract a sane, loving partner, I see that now. And I see now that I envied my former boss because yes – she had material things and outward success. But she also had a dedicated, devoted, loving father. A caring and involved mother. Present and sober family, in a warm safe home. She wasn’t given the world, but she was given this freely without having to beg for it. To be seen.
It has taken me many, many, many years, therapists, tears, trial and error…to see what I know now. And I just find these people so fucking foolish and they should feel more shame about their behavior. I grew up like a caged fucking animal. My dad drunk constantly, would beat me pants down and naked, in this dirty house, using his anger and fear to rule the entire atmosphere. This guy had enough nerve to ridicule me over elementary report cards when he couldn’t even get to his job and back each day or maintain a house.
I have accepted the things I cannot change. And part of that acceptance is knowing that my own silence over this has contributed to what I feel inside. For the amount of blame and shame my parents wanted to put on me (a child) — there have been so many others — that have gotten to see me as I am.
I realize that their constant need to invalidate me, make me out to be the “bad guy” and difficult daughter, was only a series of maladjusted attempts to keep their hillbilly bullshit going. These are men and women with minds so small, they stopped growing and changing almost to a fault. Some of them reach out to me — very randomly — to gossip. Small, stupid minds, that will fight harder to keep their trauma and ill behaviors intact than they will for their own kids.
My kids will never know this family. And I am grateful for that. So I guess here’s to leading the way in 2026…and beyond. I hope to spend more time in this space. There’s a lot to say.
Black Sheep Memoirs 
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