So I have daddy issues. I'll say it. I've mentioned it a few times in my blog. I have terrible scarring daddy issues, so bad in fact that I'm now 23 and I still cry, I still get that ache in heart, I still look at other girls and get jealous. I'm married and a mum, I am a grown woman but I still wish I had a dad. In the media we see daddy issue as something funny, something that girls can blame their "sluttiness" on. You'll hear to show characters say things like "I like my girls with low self esteem and daddy issues" but I'm calling bullshit. I'm mean it is obviously fucking hilarious to mock someone for having an absent parent or in some cases a very present yet abusive parent. It's just so funny to think that a child's emotional growth would have been stunted and scarred by a parent - one of the people on this planet who are meant to be self-sacrificing and protective of you. Omg, I'm aching from the laughter. It's just so fucking funny. I can totally see why people give it them same level of courtesy as they do star signs.
No, fuck off. Having daddy issues isn't a cop out reasons for poor choices, it's not the same and saying "I'm a Gemini so I'm totes indecisive". It's not. Fight me.
For every kid that had their heart ripped out and shredded by the one man in their life who was meant to protect others from doing exactly that I would like to pass on a verbal throat punch because honestly, it's agony sometimes. That heart shattering ache in your chest is so painful. I would happily throat punch every parent that has let their child down so much it has been detrimental to their emotional stability.
You know what is funny though? I can bet my life on the fact the old man has no clue what it is that he did. I would happily bet my life on it. If you were to sit him down and ask him what happened he would have so many gripes with people, he would tell you how people turned me against him, poisoned my mind. He could give you story, after story about how much he missed me or how much it affected him that he didn't get to see me. He would probably tell you how hard he worked to make sure he could visit me and make sure that he had the cash to take me out. He would tell you how happy he was to see me when it was time to pick me up and how hard it was to give me back. I'm sure he would describe the guilt he felt every birthday or when how when he found out o was getting married how he wished he could give me away. He would tell you how he is so hurt that he's never met his only grandchild. He would tell you that all he ever wanted to do was love me and be a good dad, that he knows he isn't the best but he tried his best.
But you know what's wrong with all of that? It's all about him. It always has been. Do you know what? He has no one but himself to blame. Honestly, lots of people may have an issue with the sod but I don't give a fuck about them, his actions towards me are what made me cut him out.
From the moment he walked out on me. He wasn't just divorcing my mom... He was abandoning me. The day he left was the day he gave up the ability to protect me.
And for that I suffered.
I thought I deserved nothing more than to be walked out on, that everyone would because he did. If someone who was meant to be by my side could do that to me why would anyone else bother being different. If before I was even born, before I had even come into the word I was unwanted, why would any one ever want me? I thought I deserve to be abused and hurt by the men I came into contact with because I had been treated with undeserved indifference from my conception. I was an inconvenience then and I always would be. I wasn't allowed to have a say because my voice didn't matter. The guilt trips, the fear, the mind games. I thought it was all I was worth. A father is meant to be a girls first love, if you can't trust the first man in your life you'll never trust another. When I was left a door was opened and it meant I was allowed to be damaged time and time again until the little that was left was only made of hate and hurt. People used my insecurities to control me, hurt me and then make me think it's okay because that's all I'm good for.
The first time I stood up and made a choice it was big. I was about nine or ten and was so tired of being ill. I was fed up of my skin always playing up because my routine wasn't taken seriously when I was away. I was fed up with being behind at school. I was done with being a no where child. I was done with having no roots anywhere, no friends, hobbies. I was finished with being pass the parcel. I was done. For a normally shy, quite meek child I suddenly had a lot to say.
I didn't want to go this time, I didn't want to be covered in sick and blood like I had been so many time. I could take it anymore. I couldn't take feeling so weak after the journey from the nosebleeds and motion sickness. I just couldn't. I had been doing since I was three, I couldn't do it anymore. So when he was belting me into the car I said, very calmly , "I will scream if you take me".
The response I'm pretty sure was "What will those ladies think?" in reference to passersby. I didn't care. Why should I?
I remember running, I don't recall getting out of the car but I remember running back to school, to the reception greeted by my headmaster and the school receptionist. I remember both their names and faces but my head master, he told me I didn't have to go anywhere if I didn't to. He put that power back into my little hands. He told me that what I wanted was the most important thing in this situation and nothing else. Not my parents, not the courts, not the CAFCAS officers. Me. He gave me chocolate, let me cry and made me feel safe. If I remember rightly he didn't even let my father in the school, he spoke to him outside. I think it was to make sure I felt safe and not pressured to go, I'm not sure. But what his main goal was on that situation was to make sure I was heard. I spoke to my old headmaster today and it was honestly one of the most lovely phone conversations I have ever had. I will never be able to thank him enough. He will never understand the difference he made.
I wanted to be me and he helped to to chose that path. That concept has been something that I haven't been willing to debate or give up for a long time now. I am unapologetically me. Like it or not I don't care.
I was three when I decided I wanted to be called "Monica" my dad never accepted it, even after I grew up we met once, he still tried to call me by the name he gave me. He could see the hurt and anguish on my face and in my voice when it came out of his mouth. His utter refusal reinforced my decision, even after all those years he hadn't changed but I had. I screamed my piece and it hurt him. I wasn't about to be daddy's little girl and run into his arms. I didn't need him now. I didn't need anymore pain.
I could never put my child through such pain.
But I guess that's the point, isn't it...? For me to be the parent I am, I had to have the parents I did.
I am a ferociously protective parent. I am self-sacrificing. But the thing I am most proud of is the fact I give my child choice. I had made it my mission to understand him and his whole little life. I am firm and loving. I am patient and understanding of his needs. Because of the failings in my childhood I am desperate to make sure I never inflict them onto my son. It's why I demand the most from my husband when it comes to parenting our child. We may have off days as people or a couple but we never allow our son to have anything but loving parents. My son is the luckiest person I know. His sole purpose in life is to be loved and be happy.
I'm so happy I met my husband. He found me and took the time to make me believe that I'm allowed to be loved, that he won't leave, that I'm worth more than being hurt. He never stops showing me how loved I am, he takes every chance he gets to make me laugh and smile. My husband is one of the most amazing men I've ever met. His devotion to protecting me, making me happy is so intense. He has taken on and fought so much just to be by my side. At times he has even fought me, my anxiety, my fears. He has never given up on me.
To be honest, my father is lucky my husband came along. My husband made me know what unconditional love is, he made me work hard to love myself, to know myself, he made me challenge what I was. He rebuilt me bit by bit. All the pain and harm that my father failed to protect me from due to his absence my husband slowly wiped away.
He changed every cruel word to words of love and happiness. He gave me laughter, where I knew tears. He found my worth and gave it back to me. He replaced every slap, punch and kick I had endured with kisses and hugs. He gave me my son and made sure I was never alone. If anyone ever wanted to know why I dote on my husband so much just read that, how can you not want to love and care for someone who saved you from yourself and the sadness you carried in your heart.
My mom always tells me it wasn't my dads fault bad stuff happened to me but she doesn't see it from where I'm stood. How could she? She always tell me to let go and not blame him. But she doesn't understand that he was just the start. His actions caused a ripple effect and my life was what felt it. He was the cause, I was the result.
I should really thank him now I think about it.... I mean because of his poor decisions and mistakes I ended up with the life I did and by extension the person I am.
So... I guess- thanks, man. Thanks for being such a godawful parent to me because it showed me how not to parent my own child. Thanks for letting me down and abandoning me because it meant my husband had to be someone fucking special and stubborn to prove himself to me. Thanks for not accepting me because it meant I fought for my right to be me and value the traits I have. Thanks, man and I guess, Happy Father's Day - I hope one of your kids did something nice because it sure as shit wasn't me... But I forgive you. I'm sure you're not a bad person, you're probably just an idiotic and selfish one, however that's not the kind of people I need around me or my family. I forgive you not because you deserve it or I want you as a part of my life but because I need to. For me to move on with my life I need to forgive you. I can't keep expending energy blaming you and hurting. So you're off the hook, dude. I doubt you'll ever see this but if you do, I'm not sorry I wrote this and frankly, I don't give a fuck if it hurts you because I needed to write this. I needed to get all of this out of my head, a real parent would understand.
I'll give you something though, a kind-of gift. This is my gift to you:
I didn't take this specifically for this blog. I actually just took it because I wanted a new profile picture for my Facebook page. This is me sitting on my sofa, after a great nights sleep snuggled up to my loving husband; following a week of undivided attention and spoiling because of my birthday. This is me now. I'm a happy, grown woman with her whole life filled with care and warmth. I love rainy days, writing and Adventire Time. I spend my days cooking, playing and cleaning. I still hate Sharon fruit, I still love J20 and I'm a better person without you. I give you this because if it were me and my child was estranged from me, I wouldwant to know that they were happy, my child could hate my guts or wish me dead but as long as they were happy I wouldn't care. So if you ever see this or it comes to a day where you're old and on your own and thinking about me don't wish it were different. Just be happy that I turned out fine, don't worry about me because I'm happy. You and me, we're square. You got no ill wishing from me, man. Guys, I know this is really personal but I'm going to put this out there because I'm not ashamed of what wasn't my fault, what was and who I am. The best thing you can do is work through that shit.
The first time I wrote this blog it was 4000 words long and full of venom but I accidentally deleted in a way that I couldn't get it back and I kind of think that it was God way of saying "are you really sure that's what you want to put out into the world?". The past few months I've been having terrible panic and anxiety attacks, I've been edgy and tearful but right now in this moment my heart feels like a little pebble. All smooth and round. I haven't felt like that in a while.
I'm watching my little guy eat his lunch and play with his turtle sippy cup, my best friend will be home soon and I'm going to go to bed tonight, a lighter version of me.
If any of you are feeling what I felt, I'm sorry. But I can tell you one day it stops hurting, you just have to keep working on you. Fill all the little gaps in your heart that hurt with things and people you love and I promise it will get better eventually. You don't need them. You got your back and so do those who love you.
You can do it.
With every bit of love in my heart, to every kid that was hurt by a parent, as always,
Monica xxx
