Recently I read a beautiful piece on Thought Catalog. Please read it (see the link below)
It's about the hatred parents sometimes grow for their kids after they (the parents) get a divorce. It's not something I could identify strongly with, and hadn't really even thought about that idea until recently.
For me, the hatred (or dislike, at least) was self-inflicted. When I was a teenager and started to look more like the person I would end up looking like now, I always had a general disdain for the fact that I look more like my father than I do my mother. The oval face (with the slightly square jaw). The furry eyebrows. The frizzy hair. All completely different from my mother and her side of the family. My sisters look like my mom. My brother is a mix of the two parents (he looks a bit like our grandpa on our mother's side). I, however, look entirely like my father's side of the family.
I used to wonder if my mom looked at me every now and then and saw my father. I wondered if this bothered her. I wondered if she looked at me and saw a glimpse of the person she created me with at seventeen, and if she regretted it.
I wonder if my father looks at me now and sees himself somehow. I wonder if he knows how wrong that would be.
In the end, I'm like my mom (smart and quick-witted). I'm like my mother's mother (shrewd and occasionally temperamental). I'm like my mother's father (tenacious and adventurous). I'm not who I look like, and because of this I can rest easy and know I don't have to hate myself over DNA.