My parents were together until I was 8. My father wasn't the best on looks, overweight, but he had this aura of someone you simply can't mess up with. He cheated on my mom multiple times over the course of their 20 years of marriage. In the end, she found out (for the first time), but it was too late to save the marriage. My father himself didn't want to get back (my mother was willing to forgive him).
So I went to live with my mother. I remember being used as ammo for her to attack him in any way she could possibly do. I don't really remember my father using me to attack my mother in any way (if he did, he problably threatened HER, not used me to say the word), I actually remember him telling me to respect her, and if he catch me mistreating her he'd beat my ass.
I honestly didn't grow up in a "female environment" because my mother had two jobs to raise me. I was always outside, playing football, or in school. I was a good kid, but looking back it's always because I wanted to be the extreme opposite of my brother (who was a troublemaker).
I grew up having no confidence because I was fat (I still am, in some way, but with way more muscles and confidence). My mother is this ultra-protective kind. She did her best to raise me (besides the awful **** she did that I already mentioned) and is still always trying to take control of my life in some way. After I got 18, I just started ignoring.
The first thing I did when I turned 18 was buying a tent, sleeping bag, a plane ticket to the south and do my backpacking trip, taking rides with truck drivers, sleeping in gas stations. Never felt so good. I think that after that point she realized that I was following my own way, no matter what she thinks. Then I joined the Army, once again against her approval (it can sound like a "rebel" thing to do, but both of these were things that I was always dreaming about doing, I just waited until I could legally respond for myself to do them).
If I can summarize, my childhood was ok. I had excellent grades at school, wasn't a bad kid. The bad part was the divorce and being used as ammo by my mother to hurt my father in any way she could. Because I that I remember growing up hating my mother most times, especially when I was 10-15. After my father died, when I was 16, I just became indifferent. Started doing my things, not paying much attention to her, and in response she did the same, became more docile.