You'll look great on my Christmas cards

My dad was a big handsome, high school football star and officer in the air force. He'd been stationed in Pakistan and he'd jumped out of a plane. He looked really great in the wedding photos. He looked really great on paper. He was any mother's dream for her daughter. Until you get to the part where he was mean and selfish, lacking in compassion and warmth.

The physical abuse was one thing, the constant criticism and not being able to do anything good enough for him, was another.

Problem was, the whole relationship was built on the outside. She wanted 6 kids, he wanted to explore the world in his Austin Healy Sprite. He resented having to sell his cute little sports car when I was born but he finally traded it in for something more practical. She tried to mold him to fit into her picture of the world while he took extended hunting trips to get away. As the pain escalated, we learned to look good, to smile pretty, to project the image of the perfect and beautiful family.

There's this funny cultural competition in Dallas where families get together and have their annual photos. They all dress the same, smile pretty and project that super sweet image to "out perfect" the neighbors. Families that are not talking, that have raging alcoholism and abuse, cover the bruises and smile pretty so they can show the world that they've done well. It's all built on the outside.

Matthew 7:[26] And every one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand: [27] And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell: and great was the fall of it.

When I started dating, I chose the ones that looked good. My first boyfriend had blonde feathered hair and the handle to his comb looked really great in his back pocket. He was also dumber than a hammer and couldn't keep a job. He brought nothing to the table except that he looked great on my arm and I kept him there longer than I should because the girls at school thought he was a fox.

Even now, 32 years later, I can feel the hollow emptiness of that relationship. We used each other to feel better about ourselves and it still hurts. It was the same empty loneliness I learned from my family. It was pain but it was familiar and I called it love.

When I look back on the photos of my life I can still feel the pain. I look great. The man next to me is handsome. We are smiling pretty.