It is Rocket Science Anonymous

My father is a rocket scientist. Literally. He and my mother met while working as engineers at NASA. Brilliant, logical, extremely analytical, and with a PhD in Biomechanical Engineering, he is the most overqualified stay-at-home dad, completely devoted to raising my brother and me by his idea of perfection. With all these academic credentials, one would think he would be an inspirational role model, but even I’m unsure.

See, my father is a man who would rather spend his time alone, researching and reading articles rather than joining his family dinner parties or social events. My brother and I see a man who is tremendously obsessive, exceedingly controlling, overly critical, hurtfully sarcastic, and continuously condescending. In spite of my good relationship with my mother, who does her best to lighten the mood around the house, my father still torments me.

From early on, it became increasingly clear that he had higher expectations for me than I thought realistic, not only academically, but also in music and sports. He constantly reminded me of this with every insult, put-down, and heavy sigh of disappointment, I felt smaller and smaller. He was supposed to be my number one fan, but instead was impossible to please and...