I have forgiven him but I have not forgotten turmoil, terror and abuse that I went through.

My father was working away most of time when I was growing up. But when he was home, he was violent.

I remembered crying in middle of night listening to him beating up my mother. I could hear her sobs. And I wept because I could not do anything about it.

I was terrified of him. We were not supposed to do any thing wrong according to his terms. When I was six years old he pushed my head so hard onto floor. I still have scar on my forehead.

When my mother was diagnosed with depression, four of us siblings had to move and we lived with him. He hired someone to take care of us while he was away at work.

There was so much fear in us when he was back. My father was so angry with one of my brother’s one day that he turned him upside down and wanted to throw him off. I watched that episode with horror.

From then on, I tried not to make any mistake. I wept inside because he did not want to hear any whimper. And I continued watching him vent his anger on rest of my siblings.

When my father divorced my mother, I did not know how to feel or react. My mother was back with us but her depression kept relapsing. We were neglected.

I found solace from friends at school. I enjoyed reading stories and literature. I spent my time in school library. There was no home sweet home.

My mother could not take care of me. My father took me away to live with his new family. It did not work out. I was sent to a welfare home.

I did not deserve to be abandoned but I was helpless. I was mad with my father. I was not angry with my mother but I just did not understand why she had to be sick.

Our mindset and attitude make a lot of difference in how we perceive life. If we have decided that something is going to be awful, then we subconsciously look for proof that it is. And we usually find it. Conversely, if we are convinced something is going to be fun, we look for that instead. That’s why two people sitting side by side each other at same event can have two totally different experiences.

Let me tell on myself. I hate cooked carrots with a passion, almost as much as I love chocolate. (For me, eating cooked carrots is more than just a chore I hate–it’s cruel and unusual punishment.) This is not something new; my father tells me that first time he fed me strained carrots I spit orange goop right back out in his face. Anyway, a couple of years ago, I was eating at a restaurant in Vermont, run by students from Culinary Institute of America. My plate came out with some orange puree on it, and I cautiously tasted it, quite prepared, if necessary, to re-enact scene with my father. It was delicious. It didn’t taste like squash, or rutabaga, or sweet potato, all of which are orange vegetables that I like. I finally asked our server. “Carrots,” he said. Since I didn’t know they were carrots, I hadn’t decided that I didn’t like them. Since I ate orange stuff without a preconceived idea, I actually enjoyed them. All it took was changing my mindset.

(By way, I still don’t like cooked carrots. I don’t know if it’s because I know what they are and have made up my mind already, or if carrots at that restaurant were just exceptional. I suspect it’s a bit of both.)

So when it comes to taxes, and other chores we hate, way we approach them can change our experience of them. Here are a few different things to try.

• Find a way to be grateful for chore. Yes, it sounds Pollyanna-ish, but in some ways, she’s gotten a bum rap. Thank goodness you have a job so you have taxes to pay. Be happy you have a refrigerator to store your food in, even though you have to clean it out once in a while. Heating bills? Hey, you were warm last month when thermometer took that plunge.