When I was 5 years old, my dad was using hard drugs and my mom was cheating on him. I don’t know who earned the title of chicken and who of egg, or which came first, but the end result was the same. I grew up in a pretty dysfunctional household where everyone was walking on eggshells. It was clearly an environment ill-suited to the healthy development of young kids.

Thankfully, I was too young to remember a lot of it or I blocked it out. Relatives tell me that I didn’t talk for months at a time as a kid (something that’s hard to believe, since my verbosity has more than made up for it since).

My parents eventually had a reckoning, pledged to clean up their act, and decided to try to save their marriage. While they did, in fact, stay together — and as far as I know, got sober and honest — they continued to fight like cats and dogs. The water under the bridge was at constant high tide, sloshing with resentment and distrust. And my brother and I were the innocent fish caught in the fury. I remember having to put on my headphones and blast Gloria Estefan cassette tapes on my boom box just to stay sane and drown out my parents’ constant bickering.

Growing up, there was not a night that went by in my house without raised voices, tear-stained cheeks, and all-around bad feelings. In fact, after more than three decades of nearly constant battling, it’s almost a miracle that my parents are still together. I say "almost," because it’s possible it would have been better for everyone if they had split.

I know my story isn’t unique. In fact, I personally don’t know anyone who had a "normal" household growing up. Regardless, like many of my peers who survived dysfunctional childhoods, I made a conscious decision the moment I set foot into the adult world at age 18 that I wasn’t going to make the same mistakes my parents made. Of course, like many others, I also went on to make a lot of the same mistakes my parents made. I watched the patterns of dysfunction play out in my dating life throughout my late teens and early 20s, as I picked partners who familiarly reeked of high drama. I set myself up for failure without even realizing I had a choice in the matter.

When I reached my mid-20s and narrowly squeezed out of yet another relationship earmarked by substance abuse and infidelity, I finally caught my breath long enough to realize that I could take control of the situation and shape my own future. I think a part of me knew I had to get these bad experiences under my belt before I could clear the cobwebs enough to realize functionality and happiness were my actual desires for long-term commitment.

Then, I met my now-wife.