my dad was a horrible person. racist, sexist, homophobic, spiteful, manipulative, the whole lot.
I stopped having anything to do with him when I was 14, because of what a horrible person he was.
some of his gems. if when I went round there, in my jodhpurs, after looking after the horses, or if I wore jeans, he would accuse me of cross dressing.
I had this bag I kept my littlest pet shop horses and dogs in to take them round, and he said I should have make up in my bag and be trying to get a boyfriend, not playing with toys. I was 12.
if I pointed out he was being racist he said that "you might not be racist now, but when you're a grown up, you'll be at a job interview, and they'll give it to the black person instead of you, or they'll play the "race card", and then you'll learn why it's right to be racist"
I'm glad I cut him out of my life, and I'm glad he's dead now.