One of the reasons, I find my father so evil is that, from a very young age, he wanted me to be convinced I was. He was relentlessly giving me character flaws I did not have and, in perspective, were pretty bold. He was a bigamist, who told me by age 4, I did nothing but lie. He was drug addict, who would joke that by birth I was an over-consumer, over-eater. He had a weird Jabba the Hut laugh and verbiage, but, somehow, it was me that was loud and incommunicative. Sometimes, I wonder if being villainized all my life is why I always like the movie villains.

When I watch Little Mermaid, I was 100% team Ursula, and Scar had my support throughout the Lion King. Growing up with telenovelas, there is always a character that is a prodigal son of sorts: an ambitious cretin that does not fully realize his poor family adores him. I always like that character. Yet, it is not because of their malice as much as my wonder if they are just misunderstood or have been so isolated and beaten by being told they are ¨bad¨ and cannot have that they became maniacal. After all, if you spend your whole life being told your horrible, what is so bad about finally owning the term? It is a creepy, intrusive thought that picks at my brain when I look at all the times my ¨niceness¨¨ ended with me under the sea. 

When I think of Ursula or Telenovelas Villains with a familial bent, they always end up badly. They either tragically die begging for forgiveness, or end up quadriplegic or in a psych ward spending the rest of their days bound and yelling how much they hate their family. It sucks because I get how they got there. Something happens to you when your parent hates you. When he or she does everything for you to be small. Ever since my father committed his last cruelty towards me, there is not one day, I do not think of just how much harm and malice he, purposefully, committed against me. It is the very reason I could be EVIL, but in avoiding the chance to become as poisonous as him, I think I have opted for something much sadder: to become numb. 

You may look at Ursula and her big, boisterous laugh or telenovela villains, especially the EVIL brother, have the tendency to wear loud, lavish suits, but, again, I get it. To grow up so ignored and told you have to hide yourself, can turn you into an adult where you demand to be seen and take all or, like me, staying in hermit mode not daring to even fathom you could get better. With those two options, it is hard for me not to get them, even though I would never want to be them because the truth is I am a hurt person that does not want to hurt people. Yet, that does not, necessarily, mean I am not hurting me.